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looked horrified at the thought of delaying such important news.
    Hiro accepted that actors didn’t behave like normal people. “How old is your son?”
    â€œHaru?” Satsu asked. “He is eight, sir.”
    The answer eliminated the boy as a suspect. A child that age could not subdue and strangle a woman of Emi’s size.
    â€œVery well. We have what we came for.” Hiro glared at Yuji. “Clear the way!”
    The young man scuttled sideways, like a crab, and Hiro left the house with Father Mateo following in his wake.

    When they reached the bridge at Shijō Road, Hiro started across the river.
    â€œWhere are we going?” Father Mateo asked.
    Hiro didn’t answer. The samurai guarding the bridge had already started in their direction.
    â€œGood morning,” the samurai said.
    Hiro bowed. “Good morning. I believe I dropped my dagger on the other side of the river.”
    â€œYou were the ones who spoke with the yoriki earlier,” the samurai said.
    Hiro nodded. “I just noticed the dagger missing, so we returned. It’s a family heirloom.”
    The samurai looked over his shoulder. “The priests haven’t come to cleanse the ground. You might still find your dagger there, assuming a beggar hasn’t found it first.” He stepped away. “I hope you find it.”
    â€œThank you.” Hiro continued across the bridge with Father Mateo.
    When they reached the western bank of the river, Hiro walked off the path and past the place where they had first seen Emi’s body.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Father Mateo asked.
    Hiro frowned at the grass. “Trying to see where the murder happened, and failing.” He shook his head. “It’s useless. There’s broken grass near where she lay, but the trail fades away too quickly. I cannot tell how far the killer dragged her.”
    Father Mateo looked at the river. “Why would the killer risk moving her back to Jiro?”
    â€œYour question assumes Jiro isn’t the killer,” Hiro replied without looking up.
    â€œWhy do you doubt his story?” Father Mateo asked. “I think Satsu lied to us. He may be your uncle, but I don’t trust him.”
    â€œI already told you, I don’t trust him either,” Hiro said.
    â€œWhy help him, then?” the Jesuit asked.
    â€œThree reasons.” Hiro held up a matching number of fingers. “First, because the code of the ryu requires it. Second, because he is my uncle, which also makes his daughter my cousin. And, finally, because someone may have identified Satsu as a shinobi from the Iga ryu. If one of us is compromised, the rest could be in danger.”
    â€œThat’s an assumption,” Father Mateo said.
    â€œPerhaps you cannot understand, but I have an obligation,” Hiro said. “Why do you object to helping Satsu?”
    â€œBecause I think he killed the girl himself.” Father Mateo crossed his arms. “I think he learned about Jiro, and he couldn’t allow his daughter to love a merchant.”
    â€œIf that’s the case, he wouldn’t ask for help.” Hiro palmed his dagger and pretended to pick it up from the ground, in case the guard was watching. “What’s truly the problem? You’ve never reacted this way to a murder before.”
    Father Mateo shook his head and ran a hand through his hair again.
    Normally, Hiro disapproved of the Jesuit’s nervous gesture, which samurai would consider a sign of weakness. Now, however, it revealed that something about the crime was unusually troubling to the priest. Hiro didn’t press the issue. He could bring it up again when time had given the Jesuit some distance.
    â€œI can hunt for Emi’s killer alone,” Hiro said, “if you would rather not participate.”
    Father Mateo turned away from the river, but didn’t answer.

CHAPTER 10
    Hiro matched Father Mateo’s pace as they followed