Above him, Hirata’s face was an image of troubled uncertainty, though his hand maintained a steady pressure against Sano’s shoulder. “I—please understand, but—I must …”

While he blushed and stammered, Sano waited, hoping to hear why he was so persistent in his disobedience. But Hirata, not given to personal revelations, finally shook his head and blurted, “It’s my duty to face danger with you, or die in your place. If I don’t, then I’m already in disgrace. I might as well be dead. A detective who doesn’t detect is worthless.” This obviously wasn’t what he’d started to say, but he just as obviously meant every word. “And a samurai who doesn’t serve and protect is no samurai at all.”

Pinned under Hirata’s hand, Sano stifled a sigh. Here in Nagasaki, all the buried tensions of the past year had surfaced. Hirata had placed him in an untenable position. He didn’t want to deny another samurai the right to follow Bushido, but now his own role of master was at stake: He couldn’t back down without losing face. Yet if he didn’t offer a compromise, he would alienate Hirata even if they both survived this investigation. The dependable Hirata wouldn’t leave him, but would serve without the spirit that made him a valuable second-in-command.

“Tomorrow you can verify Abbot Liu Yun’s whereabouts the night of Spaen’s murder,” Sano said after telling Hirata about his interview with the Chinese man, “and also where he was tonight. Find out if he has, or ever had, a gun.” He paused, then added with quiet emphasis, “And don’t even think about going to Deshima, because if I catch you there, you leave Nagasaki.”

“Yes, sōsakan-sama.” Bitterness shaded Hirata’s voice and expression: He recognized Sano’s ploy to shield him by assigning him a suspect who was neither Dutch nor Japanese.

Old Carp returned, applied several more onion treatments to Sano’s wound, then nodded in approval. “It should heal perfectly,” he said, binding Sano’s shoulder with white cotton pads and strips. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you,” Sano answered.

And for this he was glad. Because now he must deliver to Governor Nagai the news of the Dutch military threat. And tomorrow he must hurry to solve the murder case in time to save the city and his life, and prevent the rift between him and Hirata from becoming permanent.

15

十五

As night crept past the hour of the boar, Nagasaki’s pleasure quarter sparkled with its usual gaiety. Parties adorned terraces and balconies; music and laughter floated from doorways. Through streets bright with lanterns, samurai, peasants, and merchants strolled past the window cages from which gaudily dressed women called and flirted. Boisterous drinkers filled every teahouse.