by Susan Spann
“Nobuhide saw you throw the knife?” Hiro asked.
Hidetaro nodded. “He came into the room to ridicule me about my choice of wife. He must have overheard.”
The conversation lagged for a moment. Hiro waited for the samurai to continue, but decided not to prompt. He wanted to know where Hidetaro would pick up the tale.
“On the way home I thought about killing Yoshi. I wanted to, and almost decided to, but then I had a better idea, one that would give me Sayuri and revenge on Yoshi too.” He smiled. “I would persuade Sayuri to run away with me.”
“With no money?” Hiro asked.
Hidetaro shrugged. “I have a shogunate travel pass, a permanent one from my courier days. There are plenty of daimyo in need of retainers, and I suspect you already know how easily a ronin can find work if his pride doesn’t get in the way.
“No offense intended.”
Hiro nodded. “None taken. Please continue.”
“I waited at home until dark and went to the teahouse. I sneaked around the veranda to Sayuri’s room, but Hideyoshi had already arrived. I listened to them from the shadows and waited for an opportunity.
“Twice I had to hide around the corner while Hideyoshi went to the latrine. I considered approaching Sayuri then, but I couldn’t risk Yoshi catching us before we could get away.
“As the evening grew late, Hideyoshi got drunk and tried to persuade Sayuri to undress. It didn’t take her long to understand what he had in mind. She sounded frightened—I almost ran into the room and killed him after all.
“If he had forced himself on her I would have.”
Hidetaro fell silent. Father Mateo opened his mouth to speak but caught himself and said nothing.
A moment later Hidetaro continued. “I heard Sayuri mention the latrine, so I ran into the yard and hid behind the latrine to wait, but she didn’t come outside for several minutes.”
That matched Hiro’s understanding of the events. Sayuri spoke with Mayuri before visiting the latrine.
“When she finally arrived, I revealed myself and asked her to run away with me.”
“But she refused to go,” Hiro said.
“Actually, she said she would, but she was afraid of Yoshi. She was terrified that he would follow us and kill us. She also said that Yoshi claimed to own her contract already. I told her that wasn’t true, and a magistrate would uphold my claim because I had been making payments for several months. I told her I would see Mayuri immediately and force her to accept my claim.”
“You knew she wouldn’t,” Hiro said.
“It was late. Sayuri was crying. I had to do something. Sayuri wouldn’t let me talk with Mayuri. She said she had already tried, to no avail. But then she said something very strange. She said that Yoshi claimed he could have any girl in the Sakura, any time, and as often as he wanted.”
“If Sayuri was so scared, why didn’t she leave with you?” Hiro asked.
“She was afraid Yoshi would sound the alarm and catch us. Also, her kimono belonged to the teahouse, and Mayuri could have her arrested as a thief if she ran away wearing it.
“We decided Sayuri would hide in the latrine until Yoshi fell asleep and then run away with me in the morning, after he left.”
“Where did you go after that?” Hiro asked.
“I walked home. It took over an hour. The rainstorm started shortly after I left the Sakura, so I took shelter under a tree and waited it out.”
“Can anyone confirm your story?” Hiro asked.
“Actually, yes,” Hidetaro said. “Just before the rain started I noticed a samurai following me. The figure stayed in the shadows, trying to avoid notice, which of course made his efforts that much more obvious. I pretended to turn a corner and ducked behind a wall. When the figure passed, I jumped out and grabbed him. Or, more properly, her—it was Yoshiko.”
“Yoshiko?” Hiro asked.
“She overheard me arguing with her father and followed me to ensure I didn’t harm him.”
“Did she hear you talking with Sayuri?” Hiro asked.
“I worried about that at first,” Hidetaro admitted, “but she said she didn’t. She apparently hid just inside the garden wall. She saw me waiting outside the room and going to the latrine, but she didn’t even know I had talked with Sayuri.”
“How can that be?” Hiro asked.
Hidetaro thought aloud. “The latrine is partly hidden behind the teahouse, and Sayuri approached it from that side—she left the teahouse through the back door, not the veranda door that led directly to her room. I was hiding behind the latrine, and Sayuri joined me there for our conversation, so a person standing at the garden gate would not have seen us.”
“But that person would have seen any shadows on the wall of Sayuri’s room, or a killer on the veranda after the murder,” Father Mateo offered.
Hidetaro shook his head. “Only if the murder occurred while Sayuri and I were talking. I left as soon as Sayuri entered the latrine, and Yoshiko followed.”
Hiro stood up and bowed. “Thank you for your time and your honesty.”
“When I thought Sayuri and I might escape together, I was prepared to say anything to convince you of our innocence,” Hidetaro said as he walked them to the door. “If we cannot both escape Nobuhide’s anger, I will say what I must to save her.”
Chapter 35
Hiro and Father Mateo walked back through the city as the sky turned pale and the clouds glowed orange with sunset.
“Well, I guess Hidetaro wasn’t disguised as the rice merchant after all,” Father Mateo said, then added, “We can’t let him take the blame if he isn’t guilty.”
“Don’t worry,” Hiro replied, “Nobuhide won’t let him. Hidetaro wants to save Sayuri’s life, but Nobuhide will see through his story at once. Only the real killer will divert his sword.”
They crossed the Kamo River at Shijō Road, but Hiro did not turn north toward the church.
“Why are we going back to the teahouse?” Father Mateo asked. “Mayuri won’t like it.”
Hiro smiled. “I know.”
When Mayuri answered the door she didn’t even try to hide her irritation. “This is a place of business, not a Tokaido way station! How can I earn a living with you barging in and out?”
“This will all be over tomorrow, one way or another,” Hiro said, “but we need to speak with Sayuri one more time.”
“One time,” Mayuri said, “and then no more.”
She led them into the house.
A delicate smell of steaming rice and grilling meat lingered in Hiro’s nostrils, where it mingled with the fainter scents of flowers and perfume—the smell of a teahouse preparing to welcome its guests.
Shamisen music floated through the air. Each note rose, wavered, and died away like a blossom blooming and falling from a tree. Hiro recognized this song too. It told of loss and death and endings, and the melody evoked those thoughts so perfectly that he didn’t need to guess who played it or what inspired the choice.
Sayuri sat with her back to the door. She cradled her shamisen lovingly in her arms and did not bother to turn or look behind her when the door rustled open. Hiro and Father Mateo waited until she finished her song and laid the shamisen carefully on the floor.
Then she turned and her mouth fell open in surprise.
Mayuri closed the door with a gentle rattle, leaving them alone.
“Akechi Hidetaro sends his regards,” Hiro said, “and best wishes for a happy future.”
Sayuri scowled. “Why do you mock me?”
“I am not mocking,” Hiro said. “His death will save you. You no longer have reason to fear.”
“Death?” The word came out as a strangled whisper. “No. He didn’t kill anyone.”
“I doubt Nobuhide will find your words persuasive,” Hiro lied, “particularly when he hears Hidetaro’s confession.”
“How could he confess? He didn’t kill Hideyoshi.”
“He claims he did, and his story sounds persuasive.
He hated Hideyoshi, and Nobuhide knows they argued about you.”
Sayuri raised her hand to her throat. “He didn’t do it. I can prove his innocence.”
“I do not believe you,” Hiro said. “A woman’s lies will not keep Hidetaro alive.”
Sayuri looked down at her lap. When she looked up again, her eyes were full of tears. Her forehead wrinkled and her nose turned red in a futile effort to hold them back, but they ran down her cheeks as she spoke.
“Hideyoshi didn’t just want me to sing the night he died. He wanted … everything. A patron’s rights, even though he was not my patron. I didn’t want to. I told him no, but he was so drunk and so strong. I knew I couldn’t stop him. That’s why I asked Mayuri to intervene.”
“But she refused,” Hiro said.
Sayuri raised a hand and wiped her cheek. “I was afraid, if Hideyoshi had his way, Hidetaro wouldn’t want me anymore.
“When Mayuri wouldn’t help I decided I would hide in the latrine until Hideyoshi fell asleep, but when I got there I found Hidetaro waiting. He wanted me to run away with him, but I was too scared to go. I thought Hideyoshi would follow us and kill Hidetaro. I couldn’t let that happen. In the end, we decided that I would hide for the rest of the night and we would run away in the morning.”
“How long did you hide in the latrine?” Hiro asked.
“I don’t really know.” Sayuri shook her head and wiped her cheek to stop a tear. Her crying had stopped except for a few stray droplets. “I stayed there as long as it took the moon to move a handsbreadth in the sky. I watched until it rose above the top of the slatted window, and then I waited a few more minutes.”
She took a deep breath. “When I returned to the room, Hideyoshi was dead. His legs were still kneeling but his head and shoulders had fallen back onto the floor.
“There was so much blood…”
She paused and then continued. “I couldn’t stand looking at his contorted body so I pulled it to the mattress. That’s how the blood got on my kimono.
“I was frightened. I assumed Hidetaro killed Hideyoshi while I hid in the latrine. I went to the veranda, but no one was there. As I shut the door I realized I had Hideyoshi’s blood all over my socks. I took them off and hid them in my kimono. I don’t know why. I wasn’t thinking very clearly.”
“What did you do then?” Hiro asked.
“I sat in the corner, as far away from the body as I could get, and waited for morning. I made up the story about falling asleep to explain why I didn’t call for help as soon as I found the body.”
“Why didn’t you call out?”
“I wanted to give Hidetaro time to get away.”
“Yet now you claim he is innocent,” Hiro said.
“I had time to think while I sat with Hideyoshi’s body,” Sayuri said. “I realized Hidetaro could not have done it. Well, wouldn’t have anyway. Why would he murder his brother and risk someone blaming me when we intended to run away the following morning?”
Before Hiro could reply the door slid open.
“My guests are arriving,” Mayuri said, “and I must ask you to leave. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
Her smile negated the apology, but Hiro had finished questioning Sayuri anyway.
The men walked home in silence as the sky grew black and the stars appeared. As they approached the church Father Mateo asked, “Shouldn’t we talk with Yoshiko? To see if she will confirm Hidetaro’s story?”
“Not yet,” Hiro said. “She had several chances to offer that information, but didn’t, which suggests she has something to hide.”
Before the priest could respond, the door to the church swung open. A backlit figure in a Portuguese doublet and leggings stood silhouetted in the entrance. The figure laid its hands on its hips in a show of exasperation.
“It’s about time you got here,” Luis fumed. “I found your missing spy.”
Chapter 36
Luis led them into the house and pointed to the hearth.
A bald man with a long mustache sat cross-legged on the tatami, drinking tea from a porcelain cup. He wore no visible sword and his padded kimono was cut in provincial lines. A thin growth of stubble covered the back and sides of his head, but the new growth on his pate was slightly longer, suggesting more frequent shaving of that area over time.
The stranger didn’t look up as Hiro and Father Mateo entered and said nothing as the other men joined him around the hearth.
Hiro arranged his kimono carefully to ensure it would not interfere if he had to jump to his feet. Lord Oda’s spies had no reason to return to Kyoto unless they wanted to eliminate witnesses. Luis had made a colossally stupid decision in bringing the stranger home.
Hiro actually would have preferred it if the merchant ran away after all.
“May I introduce the missing spy from the teahouse,” Luis said with a flamboyant gesture.
The bald stranger looked up. “I am Akechi Mitsuhide.”
Hiro was stunned.
Father Mateo’s mouth fell open. His lips flapped like a fish tossed on a riverbank.
Hiro recovered first. “How can this be?”
Luis waggled his shoulders and preened with a self-satisfaction that Hiro would find unbearable on any other day.
“I went after him, of course. There’s only one major road between here and Nagoya, and he had four carts full of rice and weapons. It was easy to overtake him.”
“How did you know who he was?” Father Mateo asked.
At the same time, Hiro said, “You actually went after a murderer?”
“Well, I didn’t know he was a murderer,” Luis said. “But if so, I could hardly let him get away, especially since it meant Mateo’s life.”
After a short, uncomfortable silence in which Luis seemed to realize he had done something more valiant than he intended, the merchant added, “It also would have ruined my business.”
“How did you convince him to return?” Hiro asked.
“I offered,” Mitsuhide said. “I owe my cousin that much at least.”
“You didn’t murder him,” Hiro said. “If you had, you wouldn’t be here.”
“True, but I may have seen his killer. I will tell you what I know, on two conditions.”
He paused. Father Mateo started to agree at once, but Hiro silenced the priest with a look and gave a noncommittal nod instead.
Mitsuhide apparently found that acceptable.
“I left Kyoto several months ago to join another daimyo,” he said. “Men may call me a traitor for that, but my reasons are my own and not relevant to this discussion. I will say no more about it, and you will not ask. That is my first condition.”
Mitsuhide’s eyes held a challenge. Hiro gave a miniscule nod of assent.
“Second,” Mitsuhide said, “I will not remain to speak with my brother’s family. I will tell you what I know and leave at once. What you do with my information is your business, but I warn you that my name will earn you no friends, even among the Akechi clan. You will not follow me or try to stop me.
“That is the second condition.”
“Assuming you tell the truth and do no harm to anyone in this house, those conditions are acceptable,” Hiro said.
Mitsuhide nodded. “I returned to Kyoto two days ago to obtain additional weapons for Lord Oda. I shaved my head and disguised myself as a merchant to avoid discovery, but I decided to risk a meeting with Hideyoshi on the night before I left. It was foolish, but blood is blood.” He paused. “Perhaps that was not the best choice of expression.
“I made an appointment at the Sakura Teahouse because I knew Hideyoshi spent his evenings there. I requested a girl whose name I did not recognize and gave her a gold koban, hoping the wealth would dazzle her so she wouldn’t remember me well.”
“It worked,” Hiro said with a smile. “She found you boring.”
Mitsuhide laughed. “As I intended. Boring men are difficult to remember.
“The girl entertained me in the front room on the w
est side of the teahouse. It shared a wall with Hideyoshi’s room.”
“Did you speak with him?” Hiro asked.
“Yes,” Mitsuhide said, “in the latrine, after dinner. He was not pleased to see me. He told me to do what I had to do and go, and not to contact him or his family again.”
“Not surprising,” Father Mateo said.
“He understood my reasons for joining Lord Oda,” Mitsuhide countered. “He only objected because I asked to take Nobuhide with me. The boy is wasted as a yoriki. I could have made him a real samurai. But Hideyoshi refused to let Nobuhide go, and I accepted his decision. I told him I would not ask again.
“I returned to my room and finished my sake. I intended to leave fairly early but the girl was attractive and sang moderately well, so I stayed later than intended. I left the teahouse shortly after midnight and headed for Pontocho, to find a sake shop where I could pass the hours until my meeting with the Portuguese merchant.”
“Luis,” Luis corrected. “Luis Álvares.”
“As I left the Sakura, I noticed someone hiding in the shadows by the garden gate.”
“In front of the gate or behind it?” Father Mateo asked.
Hiro approved of the question.
“In front,” Mitsuhide said. “I pretended not to notice because I didn’t want a fight.”
Merchants didn’t carry swords, but Hiro suspected Mitsuhide had other weapons concealed beneath his padded robe. Hiro would have too, in his place. He also would have been loathe to expose them or attract attention if he didn’t have to.
“I walked a little way down the road,” Mitsuhide said, “keeping my eye on the shadows in case I was followed, but as soon as I passed the woman went into the teahouse instead.”
“Woman?” Father Mateo asked. “The person hiding in the bushes was a woman?”
“I only saw her from behind,” Mitsuhide said, “and most of the lanterns were already out so I couldn’t see her in detail, but she was wearing her kimono with the obi tied in front.”