Free Dragon's King Palace by Laura Joh Rowland

of the kidnapping spread. Nothing remained secret in Edo for long.
    At Magistrate Ueda’s estate, sentries at the portals admitted Sano and his men to a courtyard, where citizens gathered to bring disputes before the magistrate and police guarded shackled prisoners due for trial. Sano instructed his men to wait, then entered the mansion, a long, low structure with projecting eaves and latticed windows. Inside, he met Magistrate Ueda at the carved door to the Court of Justice.
    “Greetings, Sano- san ,” Magistrate Ueda said. He was a middle-aged samurai with a stout build, gray hair tied in a thick topknot, and broad features. He wore black robes decorated with gold crests. After he and Sano exchanged bows, he said, “What a pleasure to see you, but I have a trial to conduct.”
    “Please excuse the interruption. We must talk,” Sano said.
    The magistrate frowned, perceiving that something was amiss. Concern sharpened his intelligent, heavy-lidded eyes. “What is it?”
    Sano glanced at the guards by the courtroom door, and the clerks busy in their chambers. “May we go to your office?”
    There, Magistrate Ueda seated himself behind his desk. Sano knelt opposite him and said, “I regret to tell you that your daughter has been kidnapped.”
    Magistrate Ueda’s face went expressionless as Sano related the circumstances of the crime. Anyone not well acquainted with him might have thought him indifferent to his daughter’s plight. But Sano knew what shock and alarm the man was experiencing. Magistrate Ueda loved his only child and valued her as all that remained of his beloved wife, who’d died when Reiko was a baby. He’d lavished upon her the education and martial arts lessons normally reserved for a son. Only a lifetime of samurai discipline enabled him to hide his emotions.
    “If there is anything I can do to help you save the women and capture whoever took them, just ask,” he said.
    “Thank you, Honorable Father-in-law.” Sano bowed, then explained that he suspected the Black Lotus. “I need to know if any outlaws are in custody.” While Sano, the police, and other officials hunted sect members, the magistrate kept track of those apprehended.
    “Two men arrested by the police yesterday are in my courtroom awaiting trial now,” Magistrate Ueda said.
    “May I question them afterward?” Sano said.
    “By all means,” said Magistrate Ueda.
    They entered the Court of Justice, a long hall where guards stood inside the doors and rows of people knelt on the floor. Dusty sunlight beamed through open windows. Men fanned themselves with paper fans. Two defendants knelt on the shirasu , an area of floor directly below the dais, covered with white sand, symbol of truth. They wore gray prison robes; their wrists and ankles were shackled. Sano knelt near the back of the room. Magistrate Ueda seated himself on the dais, between the court secretaries. Everyone in the room bowed to him.
    A secretary announced, “The defendants are Jun and Goza of Honjo district. They are accused of arson, murder, and belonging to an illegal religious sect.”
    Both men were muscular commoners in their late twenties. Jun had cropped hair and a face that might have been handsome if not for thick lips held in a surly pout. Goza’s head was shaved bald; his small, angry eyes, upturned nose, and bristled jowls gave him the look of a wild pig.
    “The court shall now hear the evidence,” said the secretary.
    He called the first witnesses—a sandal maker and his wife. They came forward and knelt near the shirasu . “A Black Lotus nun came to our shop and begged for alms,” said the man. “When we refused to give her money, she put a curse on us.”
    The Black Lotus often extorted money from citizens, and used physical force to back up their magic spells, Sano knew.
    “That night, the police caught those men setting the building on fire,” said the wife.
    A police officer testified that Jun and Goza had killed one of his civilian