Hirata met him outside the mansion. Last night Sano had sent a message telling Hirata about the assassin’s attack, and Hirata looked devastated by the news. “Sano-san. I—” Emotion choked off whatever he’d meant to say. He dropped to his knees before Sano and bowed his head.
Sano was moved that Hirata could grieve for him even though he’d been the cause of Hirata’s terrible injury. He said in a falsely cheerful voice, “Get up, HiratSL-san. I’m not dead yet. Save your mourning for my funeral. We have work to do.”
Hirata rose, visibly braced by Sano’s attitude. “Do you still want me to track down the priest and the water-seller and whoever might have been stalking Colonel Ibe?”
“Yes,” Sano said. “And we’ll proceed with the other plans we made yesterday.”
“Marume and I have already organized the hunt for the priest Ozuno,” said Fukida.
“I’ll do everything in my power to catch the assassin,” Hirata declared. “This is personal now.”
“If you avenge your master’s murder before he’s dead, you’ll win yourself a place in history,” Sano said.
Hirata and the detectives laughed dutifully at the joke. Sano felt the strain of keeping up their spirits as well as his own. “Let’s look on the bright side. Every misfortune brings unexpected benefits. What happened last night has provided new clues that I’m about to follow up on.”
The Tokugawa Army’s central headquarters was located within Edo Castle, in a turret that rose up from a wall high on the hill. The turret was a tall, square structure faced with white plaster. Tiled roofs protruded above each of its three stories. General Isogai, supreme commander of the military forces, had an office at the top. Sano and Detectives Marume and Fukida reached the turret via a covered corridor that ran along the wall. As they walked, they glanced through the barred windows, into the passages under them. Sano was surprised to see only the patrol guards and checkpoint sentries. The officials who usually thronged the passages were absent.
“This place is as deserted as your compound,” Marume said.
“Somehow I can’t believe Police Commissioner Hoshina is responsible for this, too,” said Fukida.
Nor could Sano, who had an uneasy feeling about it. They entered the turret and climbed the stairs, passing soldiers who bowed to them. Sano stood at the threshold of General Isogai’s office, where the general presided over a conference of army officers. Smoke from their pipes clouded the air and drifted out windows into the mist. General Isogai spied Sano, nodded in acknowledgment, and dismissed his men.
“Greetings, Honorable Chamberlain. Please come in.” Sano told Marume and Fukida to wait outside, then joined General Isogai. Swords, spears, and guns hung mounted in racks on the walls, alongside maps of Japan that showed army garrisons.
“May I be of service to you?” General Isogai said.
“You may,” said Sano, “but first, please accept my condolences on the death of Colonel Ibe.”
The general’s jovial expression turned bleak. “Ibe was a good soldier. A good friend, too. Came up through the ranks with me. I’ll miss him.” General Isogai uttered a humorless laugh. “Remember our last meeting? We were pretty smug because we had things under control. Now one of my top men has been assassinated, and you’re on Lord Matsudaira’s bad side because you haven’t managed to catch whoever did it.”
He walked to the window. “Notice how empty the castle is?” When Sano nodded, he said, “Everyone’s heard that the assassin got to you last night. Here, in the one place we all thought was safe. People are afraid to go out. They don’t want to be next to die. They’re hiding at home, surrounded by bodyguards. Whole bakufu’s ground to a halt.”
Sano imagined communication cut off between Edo and the rest of Japan, and the Tokugawa regime losing its grip on the provinces. Anarchy would spawn rebellion. Not only would the remnants of Yanagisawa’s faction seize the chance to regain power, but the daimyo might rise up against Tokugawa rule. “This could be disastrous. Assign soldiers to escort officials on their business and protect them,” Sano said.
The general frowned, dubious. “The army’s stretched too thin already.” “Then borrow some troops from the daimyo. Bring in more from the provinces.”
“As you wish,” General Isogai said, although still reluctant. “By the way, have you heard that the assassin has a nickname? People are calling him ’the Ghost,’ because he stalks his victims and kills them without being seen.”
He gestured out the window. “Give me an enemy I can see, and I’ll send all my gunners, archers, and swordsmen after him. But my army can’t fight a ghost.” His cunning eyes glittered with desperation as he faced Sano. “You’re the detective. How do we find him and put him out of action?”
“By the same strategy that you would use to defeat any other enemy,” Sano said. “We analyze the information we have on him. Then we run him to ground.”
General Isogai looked skeptical. “What do we know about him except that he must be a madman?”
“His attack on me has taught me two things,” Sano said. “First, his motive is to destroy Lord Matsudaira’s regime by killing its key officials.”
“Haven’t you suspected as much since the metsuke chief died at the horse races?”
“Yes, but now it’s a certainty. I didn’t know any of the victims well; we didn’t have the same friends, associates, family ties, or personal enemies. We had nothing in common except that we were all appointed to Lord Matsudaira’s new regime.”
General Isogai nodded. “Then the assassin must be a holdout from the opposition. But you don’t think he’s in league with Senior Elders Kato and Ihara and their gang, do you?” Incredulity came over his face. “They’re big on playing politics, but I can’t believe they have the stomach for something as risky as multiple assassination.”
“Kato and Ihara aren’t in the clear yet,” Sano said, “but I have another theory, which I’ll get to in a moment. The second thing I’ve learned about the assassin is that he’s an expert not only at the mystic martial arts, but also at stealth.”
“He had to be, to sneak inside your compound and get right next to you,” General Isogai agreed.
“If he could manage that, he could get into the castle from the outside,” Sano said. “He wouldn’t need to be someone on the inside.”
General Isogai scowled, resisting the notion that the castle’s mighty defenses could be breached, but he said, “I suppose it’s possible.”
“So who is an expert at stealth and belongs to the opposition? I’m thinking in particular of Yanagisawa’s elite squadron of troops.”
Those troops had been masters of stealth and highly trained martial artists, whom Yanagisawa had employed to keep himself in power. They’d been suspected of past political assassinations of Yanagisawa’s enemies, but never caught: They covered their tracks too well.
Surprise raised General Isogai’s eyebrows. “I knew they were a dangerous breed, but I never heard that they could kill with a touch.”
“If they could, they’d have kept it secret.” A disturbing thought struck Sano. “I wonder how many deaths there have been over the years that appeared natural but were actually assassinations ordered by Yanagisawa.” But Sano couldn’t do much about that now. ’The reason I came here is to ask you what happened to Yanagisawa’s elite squadron after he was deposed.”
“You’ve come to the right place.”
General Isogai walked to a chart, mounted on the wall, that displayed a list of thirty names. Eighteen had red lines drawn through them; notations were scribbled in the margins. Sano did not recognize any of the names.
“They kept a low profile,” General Isogai said. “They used aliases when they traveled around. It made their movements hard to track.” He pointed at the names crossed out in red. “These men died in the battle when we raided Yanagisawa’s house. My men killed half of them. The rest committed suicide rather than be taken prisoner. But the other twelve weren’t on the premises at the time, a
nd they escaped. Capturing them has been a high priority because we think they’re leaders in the underground movement and responsible for attacks on the army.”
Sano was glad to have new suspects, but daunted by the thought of hunting down twelve. “Have you caught any yet?”
“These five.” General Isogai tapped the names. “We got a lucky break last winter. Nabbed one of their underlings. Tortured him until he told us where to find them. Staked out their hideaway, took them, and executed them.”
“That narrows the field,” Sano said, relieved. If he had only two days to catch the assassin before he died, he would have to work fast. “Have you had any leads on the others?”
“These last seven are the craftiest of the bunch. It’s as if they really are ghosts. We move in on them, and—” General Isogai snatched at the air, then opened his empty hands. “All we’ve had lately are a few possible sightings, by informants who aren’t too reliable.”
He opened a ledger on his desk and ran his finger down a column of characters. “They were all at teahouses around town. Some were places where Yanagisawa’s men used to drink before the war. I’ll copy out the names and locations for you, along with the names of the seven elite troops who are still fugitives.” General Isogai dipped a brush in ink and wrote on a paper, which he blotted, then handed to Sano.
“Many thanks,” Sano said, hoping that he now had the assassin’s name and the key to his whereabouts.
“If the Ghost is one of Yanagisawa’s squadron, I wish you better luck catching him than we’ve had,” said the general.
They bowed, and as Sano turned to leave, General Isogai said, “By the way, should you and your men go up against those devils, be careful. During the raid on Yanagisawa’s house, the eighteen of them killed thirty-six of my soldiers before they were defeated. They’re dangerous.”
Sardonic amusement glittered in General Isogai’s eyes. “But maybe you already know that from personal experience.”
Chapter 23
It was past noon, and the sun had vaporized the mist, when Reiko left the hinin settlement after a search for Yugao. No one there had seen the woman since she’d been arrested. Discouraged yet determined, Reiko traveled to the Ryogoku Hirokoji entertainment district.
Escorted by Lieutenant Asukai and her other guards, she walked down the noisy, crowded avenue. She thought of Police Commissioner Hoshina and looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was following her. As she wondered whom to ask first about Yugao, wind rattled lanterns on the stalls. Tassels ripped from armor during a fight swirled with dust along the ground. A mass of storm clouds bled across the sky like ink on wet paper. Warm rain showered upon Reiko. She and her escorts, and the hundreds of pleasure seekers, hurried beneath the roofs of the stalls. The wind swept the rain in sheets that drenched the empty avenue; puddles spread. The stall where Reiko and her guards found shelter offered cheap toys as prizes for rolling balls up a ramp through holes. One other person had found shelter here: One man—and a monkey that he held on a leash.
The monkey screeched at Reiko. It wore a miniature suit of armor, helmet, and swords. Her guards laughed. She was so surprised to see a monkey that she hardly noticed its master until he said, “Pardon my friend’s bad manners.”
Now Reiko saw that he was as remarkable as his companion. He was no taller than herself, with coarse, shaggy black hair that covered his head, face, arms, and legs. Beady eyes met Reiko’s shocked gaze; sharp teeth grinned beneath his whiskers. To her further amazement, she recognized him.
“Are you the Rat?” she said.
“That’s me. At your service, pretty lady.”
“We have a mutual acquaintance,” Reiko said. “His name is Hirata, and he’s the shogun’s sosakan-sama.” Hirata had told her that the Rat hailed from the northern island of Hokkaido, famous for its natives who had copious body hair. He traded in information that he picked up while traveling around Japan in search of new freaks for the show he operated in the entertainment district across the river, and he was an informant of Hirata’s.
“Oh, yes,” the Rat said. He spoke in a strange, gruff, rustic accent. “I heard that Hirata-san was cut up in a fight. How’s he doing?”
“Better,” said Reiko.
Her guards tried to pet the monkey. It drew its tiny sword and lashed out at them. They fell back, laughing. The Rat scrutinized Reiko with curiosity. “Who are you?” Reiko remembered that she must keep a low profile, but before she could make up a false identity the Rat pointed a hairy finger at her. “Don’t tell me. You must be Lady Reiko, the chamberlain’s wife.”
“How did you know?” Reiko said, chagrined.
“The Rat gets around,” he said with a wise look.
“Please don’t tell anyone you saw me here,” Reiko said.
The Rat winked and put his finger to his lips. “I don’t tell tales on my friends, and any friend of Hirata-ttw’s is a friend of mine. What’s a fine lady like you doing here, anyway?”
Reiko’s spirits lifted. “I’m looking for someone. Maybe you can help me.”
“Be glad to, and for you, I’ll waive my usual fee. Who is it?”
“A woman named Yugao. She escaped from Edo Jail yesterday.” Reiko described Yugao. “Have you seen her?”
The Rat shook his head. “Sorry. But I’ll keep an eye out.” His monkey screeched, waving its sword at Reiko’s guards, who had drawn their swords and were fighting a playful battle with it. “Hey, don’t hurt him!” the Rat said, then asked Reiko, “What was Yugao in jail for?”
“She stabbed her family to death,” Reiko said.
Interest enlivened the Rat’s expression. “I’m surprised I hadn’t heard about that. Where did it happen?”
“In the hinin settlement.”
“Oh.” The Rat’s interest faded, as though crimes among the hinin were commonplace and unimportant. “Why is the chamberlain’s wife looking for an escaped outcast?”
Rather than tell the whole sad story, Reiko said, “My father asked me to find Yugao. He’s the magistrate who tried her for the murders.”
The Rat waggled his bristly eyebrows, hinting for more explanation. Reiko kept silent. The monkey whacked Lieutenant Asukai on the leg with his sword. Lieutenant Asukai yelped in pain. His comrades howled with laughter.
“Serves you right, teasing a poor animal,” the Rat huffed, then said, “The law moves in strange ways, and who am I to question it? But since I have the privilege of talking to the magistrate’s daughter, maybe you can tell me whether those other murders were ever solved.”
“What other murders?” Reiko said, impatient for the rain to stop so she could continue her search. Her mind drifted to Sano, and fear tightened inside her. Would the assassin’s death-touch take effect before two days passed?
“The ones that happened around here, about six years ago,” the Rat said. “Three men were stabbed within a few months of each other.”
Reiko’s attention snapped back to him. “What? Who were they?”
“Tokugawa soldiers. A lot of them come here to have fun when they’re off duty.”
“How did it happen?”
“The way I heard it, they got drunk in teahouses and they went out to the alleys to piss. They were found lying dead there, in pools of blood.”
An eerie sensation crept through Reiko. The murders had occurred while Yugao had been living in the district, and the victims had been stabbed, as had her family. “The killer was never caught?”
“Not that I know of,” the Rat said. “Last I heard, the police had decided that a roving bandit killed those soldiers. Their money pouches were missing from their bodies.”
It must be a coincidence that had placed Yugao and the stabbings in the same area during the same time period. Bandits did often kill and rob people. Furthermore, how could a woman murder strong, armed samurai? Yet Reiko didn’t trust coincidences.
The storm abated. The rain diminished to a sprinkle, although the sky remained overcast. People poured out of th
e stalls, onto the wet avenue.
“It was nice talking to you,” the Rat said. “If I hear any news about your escaped prisoner, I’ll send a message.” He jerked his monkey’s leash and told Reiko’s guards, “Fun’s over.”
Reiko spent an hour questioning people in the entertainment district, but no one had seen Yugao. She was apparently too smart to run to a place where the police were likely to look for her. But still she might have gravitated toward her home territory because she didn’t know where else to go. Reiko broadened her search into the neighborhoods near Ryogoku Hirokoji and eventually found herself in a familiar street of tenements and shops. She saw a teahouse she recognized. The maid she’d talked to yesterday was lounging against the same pillar.
“Well, look who’s back,” the maid said and held out her hand, palm up, to Reiko. “You owe me. I’ve found out where that girl Tama is.”
Reiko’s bearers set down her palanquin in an enclave in the Nihonbashi merchant district. Rain drizzled on mansions that rose two stories high; pines and red maples grew from spacious gardens hidden behind bamboo fences. The streets were quiet and unpopulated, remote from the bustle of commerce a few blocks away.
“A customer from the old days happened to stop by. He said Tama’s father drank himself to death, and Tama was left without a single copper to live on,” the teahouse maid had told Reiko. “She went to work as a servant in the house of a rich moneylender.”
The directions given by the maid had brought Reiko here. Maybe Tama could help her trace Yugao as well as shed light on the murders. Reiko watched through the window of her palanquin as Lieutenant Asukai dismounted, walked to the largest mansion on the street, and knocked on the gate. It was opened by a manservant.
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