The Ninja's Daughter

by Susan Spann

  “We have not returned the coin,” the priest confirmed.

  “But we don’t have it,” Hiro added quickly.

  Yoriki Hosokawa turned on Hiro. “Where is the coin?”

  “I dropped it in the river.” Hiro gestured toward the bridge. “A most regrettable accident.”

  “Then give me something else,” the yoriki said, “or I will arrest the priest.”

  “You have no grounds to arrest me,” Father Mateo protested.

  “I saw you investigating a crime, against the magistrate’s orders.” Yoriki Hosokawa turned to the dōshin. “You saw him, didn’t you?”

  The dōshin nodded.

  Father Mateo opened his mouth to object—as an explosion rocked the bridge at Shijō Road.

  CHAPTER 42

  The explosion sent a plume of thick, dark smoke into the air. It seemed to originate under the pilings close to the eastern bank. Fortunately, the bridge did not collapse.

  The samurai guarding the structure ran away up the opposite bank with a cry of terror.

  Yoriki Hosokawa turned to the dōshin. “Go investigate!”

  As the underling ran for the bridge, the yoriki glared at Hiro. “I expect a payment, if you want your foreign friend to avoid arrest.”

  He hurried after the dōshin without awaiting a response.

  Hiro started up the path toward home. “Let’s go—and hurry.”

  “Shouldn’t we get to shelter?” Father Mateo looked back at the bridge. “The city is under attack.”

  “Home is safer than sheltering here,” Hiro said. “That explosion was a distraction. Whatever it’s trying to cover may not be over.”

  “How do you know?” Father Mateo matched Hiro’s rapid pace.

  “Do you see any enemy soldiers?” Hiro gestured along the river. “Any fighting? Any other sign of an attack?”

  Father Mateo looked around. “Now that you mention it, no.”

  “A thin young man walked past us while we talked with Yoriki Hosokawa. He seemed familiar, though I couldn’t place him.”

  “I remember,” Father Mateo said. “The yoriki’s presence seemed to make him nervous.”

  “As it would, if he was planning an explosion. The bridge didn’t burn, or collapse, which indicates a shinobi charge designed to create a distraction.”

  “You think that young man set the charge?”

  “He disappeared under the bridge a couple of minutes before the explosion,” Hiro said. “He set the charge. The question is why. He’s also too young to be working alone, which means there’s another shinobi in the area—possibly more than one.”

  “Is that why we’re leaving in such a hurry?” Father Mateo asked.

  Hiro nodded. “I have no intention of getting us involved in whatever they’re planning. Also, when the enemy gets distracted at an opportune moment, wise men do not wait to leave the scene.”

  Hiro didn’t slow his pace until they turned onto Marutamachi Road.

  “We’re going home?” Father Mateo sounded disappointed.

  “I told you home was the safest place, at least until we know for sure the explosion wasn’t the start of a larger attack.”

  “You said it was just a distraction,” the priest objected.

  “I didn’t want you panicking and running into danger,” Hiro said.

  “I wouldn’t have panicked.” Father Mateo turned petulant. “I don’t want to go home. We only have one more day to find the killer.”

  At least he seemed to have accepted the need to leave the city.

  “We’ve made good progress,” Hiro said. “We identified the samurai who bribed the Yutoku-za.”

  “The one who demanded money from Botan?” The Jesuit seemed confused, but then a realization lit his features. “Yoriki Hosokawa! But wouldn’t Botan have recognized his voice?”

  “He could have disguised it,” Hiro said. “Before, that seemed unlikely, but now that we know his family hired the troupe to perform in Hisahide’s honor . . . space at Fushimi Inari does not come cheap. The yoriki would know how much his father paid Botan, though he could not have known the guild had debts.”

  “So he assumed they would have the money to pay him, because of the gold they received from his father,” the Jesuit said.

  “We still need evidence to prove it, but yes, the pieces fell into place when he threatened us a few minutes ago.”

  Father Mateo stopped walking. “Something else—Emi would have left Jiro to follow a yoriki. She had no legal right to refuse his order.”

  Hiro nodded. “Keep moving. We need to get inside.”

  Father Mateo shook his head. “And here I’d been thinking Yuji did it.”

  “He easily could have,” Hiro said. “We cannot rule him out without more evidence. Satsu remains a suspect also. Walk.”

  Father Mateo raised a placating hand and continued walking. “What about Botan? He seems less likely than the others, given the evidence.”

  “True.” Hiro nodded agreement and glanced over his shoulder. The road was empty.

  Father Mateo sighed with exasperation. “We’re out of time. We need more evidence, and quickly.”

  Hiro shared the priest’s frustration. He hated the thought of the killer getting away. “We’ll have to risk a talk with Botan. If he identifies Yoriki Hosokawa as the samurai, at least we can tell the magistrate that truth before we go.”

  “We should report Hosokawa-san anyway,” Father Mateo said. “He tried to steal from us just now.”

  Hiro shook his head. “Without a neutral witness, or real proof, he’ll claim we only accused him to avoid arrest or that we offered him a bribe. We would end up in prison, or worse, and he would suffer no consequence.”

  “I wish we knew what happened to that mask. If we could prove that Botan gave it to the yoriki, or sold it to pay him, we would have the proof we needed.”

  “That only solves the extortion, not the murder,” Hiro said. “Unless we can find a critical clue, we may fail to find the real killer.”

  When they reached the Jesuit’s yard, Hiro paused. “We’re going in through the garden gate, and I want you to wait outside while I check the house.”

  They entered the yard and closed the gate behind them.

  Hiro lowered his voice. “Wait here. If you hear me yell, walk straight to the city gates and do not stop for anyone. Proceed to the inn at Ōtsu and wait for me there.”

  “I will not run away.” Father Mateo frowned. “I do not fear death, if I die in the service of God.”

  “If foolish bravery serves your god, then he is no different from Japanese kami, who care nothing for the lives of men.”

  “That is not true,” the Jesuit said.

  “No?” Hiro asked. “Because you sound exactly like a Buddhist samurai.”

  “Fine, I will go,” Father Mateo said, “but only if you promise to save Ana and Luis as well.”

  Hiro nodded. “If I can.” He started toward the house.

  CHAPTER 43

  To Hiro’s relief, the house was empty except for Ana and Gato, and the housekeeper reported no visitors since Father Vilela left.

  Hiro retrieved the priest from the yard, and they entered the house together.

  “Why make me wait outside?” the Jesuit asked.

  “Shinobi don’t blow up bridges without a reason,” Hiro said. “I had to make sure whatever they’re doing didn’t include an attack on the foreign priests.”

  Father Mateo nodded. “That makes sense. Do you think it’s safe to visit Botan this evening?”

  “No,” Hiro said, “but we have to risk it if we want to solve the crime. Between now and then, I suggest you start packing for tomorrow’s trip.”

  Father Mateo sighed. “I suppose I should, though I won’t take much. I don’t intend to stay away for long. Which raises another question—where will we go?”

  “Father Vilela suggested Iga.” Hiro smiled. “Home is pleasant in the autumn, if a little cold.”

  Someone pounde
d on the priest’s front door.

  The pounding continued as Father Mateo hurried through the common room, into the entry. Hiro followed.

  Ana’s footsteps entered the common room behind them, but stopped as the housekeeper realized Father Mateo had reached the door. She often reminded the priest that men of rank did not open the door themselves, but also wouldn’t embarrass him in front of a guest by following him to the entry.

  Father Mateo opened the door. “May I help . . .”

  He trailed off at the sight of Yoriki Hosokawa.

  Hiro glanced up the street but saw no sign of the scruffy dōshin. The yoriki must have ordered him to continue investigating near the bridge, or created another excuse to leave him behind. Either way, it did not bode well that Yoriki Hosokawa came alone.

  “I want my money,” the yoriki said.

  “I’m sorry?” Father Mateo looked confused. “I do not understand.”

  The yoriki looked at Hiro. “Translate. Either the foreigner gives me gold or I will tell the magistrate that he—and you—are the ones who killed the girl by the river. I’ll claim that you faked the investigation in order to blame the crime on someone else.”

  Hiro translated the threat into Portuguese to stall for time. At the end he added, “Pretend you’re angry, so we can discuss this further without him understanding what we say.”

  “I don’t have to pretend,” Father Mateo replied in Portuguese. “Why didn’t he do this when we investigated the brewery murder?”

  “What’s the problem?” the yoriki snapped.

  Hiro bowed. “I apologize. The foreigner does not understand. In his country, the police are honest men.”

  “You lie.” Yoriki Hosokawa looked at Father Mateo and shifted to simple Japanese. “You give me money or I hurt you badly.”

  Father Mateo feigned surprise. “Why would you hurt me? What have I done?”

  “You see?” Hiro said. “He doesn’t understand.”

  “He understands, and your lies will get you nowhere,” the yoriki growled. “I need gold, for armor and weapons, to enlist in the shogun’s army, and this foreigner is going to make that happen.”

  “I will try to explain.” Hiro shifted to Portuguese. “Now I know why he didn’t try this during the other investigation. The shogun recently offered honor and status to any man who volunteers for the army before the war begins.”

  “But he already has a government position,” Father Mateo replied.

  “A dead-end post in a low-ranking part of the government,” Hiro said. “This is his chance to elevate his status.”

  “If he took money from the actors—and, presumably, from others too—why doesn’t he have the gold he needs already?” Father Mateo asked.

  “Armor and weapons are expensive,” Hiro said. “With the shogun raising taxes, people haven’t much gold to give. He probably believes you’re wealthy.”

  “He’s got a rude surprise in store.” Father Mateo switched to Japanese. “I have no gold. In my religion, priests must live in poverty. We take a vow.”

  “Again, you lie.” The yoriki glanced at the roof above the veranda. “You own a house, and there’s a stable around the back.”

  Father Mateo made an expansive gesture. “These things belong to the church and to the merchant who shares this house, not me.”

  “It would be most unfortunate if this lovely dwelling burned to the ground while you were in prison awaiting execution,” the yoriki said.

  Hiro had an idea. “We’ll get the gold, but we need time—a couple of days, at least.”

  “You have until tomorrow at sunset, not a minute longer.” The yoriki paused. “And in return for my generosity, I want twenty golden coins. If you do not pay, I’ll arrest you both for killing the girl. If you run, I will hunt you down and kill you.”

  Father Mateo drew a breath, but the yoriki barked, “No argument! I have spoken. And I warn you, my dōshin will swear they saw the priest attack the girl.”

  “Both of them?” Father Mateo asked.

  “Both of them,” Yoriki Hosokawa affirmed. A moment later he narrowed his eyes. “Why do you ask that question?”

  “I merely wondered if all policemen were as corrupt as you,” the Jesuit said.

  “I could kill you right now!” the yoriki yelled. “Do not disrespect me again!”

  “If you kill me, you will get nothing,” the priest said calmly. “And calling you corrupt is a statement of fact, not disrespect. A man who steals from the poor does not deserve to be called a samurai.”

  “You know nothing of samurai,” Yoriki Hosokawa hissed. “Get the gold, or your life is forfeit—and I will take pleasure in killing you.” He turned and walked away.

  Father Mateo stood in the doorway and watched the yoriki stride away up the street. “Did he really just extort us—and threaten to kill me?”

  “Desperate men resort to desperate measures,” Hiro said as they went inside. “It was foolish of you to mention the missing dōshin.”

  “I was trying to find out if they had found him.”

  “By asking a question that suggests he’s missing?” Hiro asked. “He could have killed you—would have killed you—if the body had been found.”

  “But he didn’t,” Father Mateo said, “so now we know they haven’t found the body.”

  “What body?” Ana emerged from the kitchen. “Are you investigating another murder?”

  “No,” the two men said together.

  “Hm.” Ana turned and went back into the kitchen.

  Father Mateo drew the golden coin from his purse and examined it. “Why would he ask for gold? Most people in Kyoto trade in silver.”

  “Gold has higher value,” Hiro said. “It’s easier to carry and conceal.”

  Father Mateo returned the coin to his purse. “I hope Luis has the coins we need, or sufficient silver to trade for them.”

  “Don’t worry about the gold,” Hiro said. “By the time the yoriki comes for it, we’ll be out of Kyoto and far beyond his reach.”

  “What about Ana and Luis?” Father Mateo frowned. “He threatened to burn the house—”

  “He will not bother Ana. She has no gold. The part about the house was an empty threat.”

  At least, he hoped so.

  “Maybe,” Father Mateo said, “but we need to be certain. Later tonight, we’re going to see Botan. And now we don’t need to worry about the yoriki. He won’t arrest us before he gets his money.”

  “Not unless he connects us with the missing dōshin.”

  “Even then, he won’t arrest us,” Father Mateo said. “He’ll kill us.”

  “Yes, but, as you already noted, not until he gets his gold.”

  CHAPTER 44

  After leaving Father Mateo to sort through his few belongings, Hiro went to the Jesuit’s garden and meditated. The yoriki’s threats had left him unsettled and angry. Worse, Hiro detested failure, and leaving the mystery unresolved felt like letting Emi’s killer win.

  He pushed his frustrations away and closed his eyes. His breathing stilled, and his heartbeat slowed. He listened to the breeze in the branches, the water in Father Mateo’s pond, and the myriad other sounds that floated through the Jesuit’s garden.

  Something rustled the trees by the garden wall.

  Hiro opened his eyes as a large black crow peered down from its perch in a cherry tree. The glossy corvid cocked its head and looked at Hiro without a trace of fear.

  “If you’ve come from the kami,” Hiro said, “go back and tell them I didn’t need an omen.”

  The crow tipped its head in the other direction, as if listening to the words.

  “Go on.” Hiro waved his hand. “I’m not superstitious.”

  The bird just stared.

  A black-and-orange shadow wiggled through the grass at the base of the tree. Gato’s tail flicked with anticipation as she stalked the crow. She made a chittering noise, and the bird looked down.

  Gato leaped for the trunk and climbed the t
ree in a series of scrabbling jumps. Before she reached the lowest branch, the crow extended its wings and flew away. Gato looked at Hiro and mewed.

  “You couldn’t have fought him anyway,” Hiro said.

  Gato leaped to the ground and walked away, tail lashing in frustration.

  Hiro looked at the leaves on the tree the cat and crow had vacated. Some were green, but many had taken on the gold-and-orange hues of autumn.

  Summer had passed, and the weather was turning.

  Time to leave Kyoto.

  Hiro had known this day would come from the night Hisahide claimed control of Kyoto. A hundred years of Ashikaga rule had come to an end, and the Japanese soil would drink of samurai blood before the land saw peace again.

  They needed to find a way to leave the city without attracting attention. Since Father Mateo shared a travel pass with Luis Álvares, they had to leave together or one’s departure would trap the other within the capital. Hiro didn’t like Luis, but he had no intention of leaving the Portuguese merchant at Hisahide’s mercy.

  The door to the Jesuit’s room rattled open. Father Mateo stepped outside and knelt beside Hiro on the porch. He smiled, but his eyes held only sorrow.

  “I will miss this house,” the Jesuit said, “especially the koi. I still wish we could find some way to stay.”

  “Only a fool attempts to fight a battle he cannot win.”

  “Only a coward flees from those who need him,” the Jesuit countered.

  Hiro watched as another breeze fluttered the trees by the garden wall. “A man cannot help anyone from a grave.”

  “We have to take Ana with us. And Luis.” The Jesuit spoke with quiet determination.

  “A group attracts more attention than a pair of pilgrims on the road.”

  “I will not leave without them,” Father Mateo said.

  Hiro nodded. “Then we will find a way.”

  “And I want to solve Emi’s murder before we go,” the Jesuit added.

  Knocking echoed through the house.

  Father Mateo looked over his shoulder. “Again? Could Yoriki Hosokawa have returned?”

  Hiro was already on his feet. “Stay here,” he said, though he knew the Jesuit wouldn’t.