by Susan Spann
“When did Kazu return?” Father Mateo asked.
“A few minutes after you left,” she said. “I mistook him for a monk in that crazy outfit. He walked right into the house without even knocking. When I told him to leave, he took off his hat and said he would wait for you instead.”
“And you let him?” Hiro hoped she let Kazu stay. He needed to talk with the younger shinobi before Hisahide did.
Ana’s frown deepened the wrinkles around her eyes. “I didn’t want to. But he threatened to tell the neighbors Father Mateo refused a meal to a monk in need. I couldn’t let him say a thing like that!”
Hiro stifled a smile. Ana’s loyalty made her easy to manipulate.
“I told him to wait by the hearth,” she said, then added, “I didn’t give him anything to eat.”
She sounded triumphant. To Ana, withholding food was a serious punishment.
“Has Luis returned?” Father Mateo tried to sound conversational, but Hiro caught a hint of concern in his voice. The merchant could not be trusted to keep Kazu’s visit secret.
“Not yet,” Ana said.
Hiro stepped out of his sandals and onto the veranda. “I’ll talk to Kazu. He won’t stay long.”
“Hm,” Ana said, “he better not. You cause enough trouble. I don’t need your vagrant friends underfoot.” She raised the broom and resumed her vigorous sweeping.
Hiro found Kazu by the hearth. The basket-hat sat on the floor beside him.
“I’m sorry, Hiro.” Kazu stood up and bowed. “The shogun has guards on all the roads. They’re checking everyone, even monks.”
“I’m glad you couldn’t get through,” Hiro said. “You need to get back to the shogunate.”
“For my execution?” Kazu shook his head. “No thank you.”
Ana’s voice carried in from the porch. “Welcome back, Luis-san!”
Hiro appreciated the warning. “My room. Now.”
Kazu scooped up the basket-hat and hurried across the oe. He slid open Hiro’s door and disappeared through it. Hiro followed. He had just reached the doorway when Luis entered the common room.
The merchant’s face looked even more flushed than usual, as if his doublet and puff-sleeved shirt conspired to strangle him. A pair of tight wool breeches did no favors for Luis’s portly legs.
As always, Hiro found the merchant’s Portuguese clothing foolish and inconvenient.
Luis glared at Hiro. “You people and your impossible demands,” he fumed. “Why can’t you understand simple logic?”
Hiro raised an eyebrow at the merchant.
Luis thumped across the tatami and flung himself down by the hearth with a heavy sigh. As usual, he took the host’s position opposite the entrance.
“Ana!” he yelled. “Tea!”
Hiro heard the vehement swish of a broom against the veranda. Ana had no intention of responding to Luis’s call.
Father Mateo tested the pot that hung above the hearth. “There’s water here. You have tea in your room, don’t you?”
“Assuming someone didn’t steal it all.” Luis stood up and pulled his green doublet down over his bulging stomach. His girth and the unfortunate color made Hiro think of a giant sudachi, though Luis’s face looked even sourer than the bitter little citrus fruit.
Hiro started to enter his room, but Luis’s next complaint made him pause.
“How on earth can he expect me to find two hundred arquebuses in three days’ time?”
“Two hundred?” Father Mateo repeated.
“Yes,” Luis grumbled. “An impossible number of firearms on an equally irrational timeline.”
“Who wants them?” the Jesuit asked.
Luis hadn’t stopped talking. “I told him it was impossible, but of course he wouldn’t listen. Samurai are all alike. Demand, insist, threaten—that’s all they know. If the profits didn’t run so high, I’d have left this godforsaken island years ago.”
“God has not forsaken Japan.” Father Mateo spoke with unusual sharpness.
Luis snorted.
Hiro could see the priest preparing to argue and jumped in to keep the conversation going. “Why does this samurai need the weapons so quickly?”
Luis turned, eager to continue his litany of complaints. “A show of force, to keep some uppity lord from attacking Kyoto. I told him the shogun could hold his compound with half that many firearms, but he insisted. No less than two hundred will do.”
“So the shogun wants them?” Hiro asked.
“No.” Luis shook his head. “One of his retainers. Matsu-something.”
“Matsunaga Hisahide,” Hiro said.
“That’s the one.”
“What will happen if the weapons don’t arrive in time?” Hiro asked.
Luis looked smug. “Of course they’ll get here in time. Most merchants couldn’t have managed it, but I have special connections. Where do you think I’ve been? I rode to Osaka to check the warehouse there. They hadn’t enough, but they expect a shipment today or tomorrow and said they would send them on immediately.”
“Dispatch is no guarantee of arrival,” Hiro said.
Luis sniffed. “This sale will fund Mateo’s work for a year, and my own share is nothing to sneer at. I’ll see that the arquebuses arrive on time.”
The merchant turned back to Father Mateo, dismissing Hiro from the conversation. The shinobi didn’t mind. He stepped into his room and closed the door behind him.
The room looked empty, but Hiro knew better. He crossed to the futon chest and rapped softly on the lid.
“Kazu, it’s safe to come out.”
Chapter 14
The wooden chest opened, revealing Kazu’s face. “How did you know where I was?”
“Because I put you there earlier,” Hiro said, “and you’ve never been good at hiding.”
“Not everyone can turn to smoke at will.” Kazu stood up and stepped out of the chest. “Which reminds me. Why did Hanzo send the best shinobi in Iga to guard a priest?”
Hiro regarded the younger man evenly. “Should he have sent a novice, doomed to fail?”
Kazu could wonder about the assignment all he wished. Hiro would never reveal the truth—even if he had known it.
Instead, he changed the subject.
“Who killed Saburo?”
“I don’t know,” Kazu said. “If I did I would have turned him in myself.”
“Ask around when you return to work. You might learn something.”
Kazu’s eyes widened. “I can’t go back.”
“You must. Hisahide doubts your guilt, and Saburo’s son proclaims your innocence. Miyoshi Akira believes you’re guilty, but I think we can persuade him otherwise.”
“Persuade him?” Kazu shook his head. “I can’t even explain where I was without looking guilty.”
“I have a plan,” Hiro said. “Is there somewhere you can hide for a few more hours?”
Kazu gestured. “What’s wrong with here?”
“I won’t risk Father Mateo’s safety.” Hiro indicated the woven hat. “Put your disguise back on and go into the city. Keep moving, and stay by the river—it’s less busy in the rain. Don’t talk if you can avoid it. And meet me at Ginjiro’s three hours from now.”
“How will staying away excuse my absence?” Kazu asked.
“Because you weren’t absent,” Hiro said. “You were drunk.”
“Drunk?”
“Exceedingly drunk. You left Ginjiro’s after midnight, already intoxicated. From there you went to a teahouse and drank yourself senseless. You woke up this afternoon under a bridge, with no idea how you got there.”
“But I got hungry,” Kazu said, picking up on the story, “and returned to Ginjiro’s to eat.” He nodded slowly. “You know, that might actually work.”
“Only if we find the real killer in time.” Hiro explained about the shogun’s command and Hisahide’s intent to fulfill it by any means necessary. When he finished, he added, “I need you to tell me everything you remember about Saburo. Someone wanted
to kill him. The question is who?”
“Everyone wanted him dead,” Kazu said, “but no one would dare to do it.”
“Someone dared,” Hiro said. “What do you mean by ‘everyone wanted him dead’?”
“He never used a gentle word when harshness would suffice, and he thought himself the most important person in any room. No one likes a man like that.”
In Hiro’s mind dislike didn’t translate to wishing for someone’s death, but he let the comment pass. “Did Saburo have any arguments recently?”
“No more than usual.” Kazu raised a hand, remembering. “Wait—he did have an argument yesterday evening.
“The carpenters finish their work at dusk, but we heard hammering into the evening hours. Saburo stormed out to see what was going on. I heard him yelling, but couldn’t make out the words. He returned to the office angrier than he left.”
“Did he explain why?”
“No, and I didn’t ask, though I wondered what Ozuru said to provoke him.”
“What makes you blame Ozuru?” Hiro noted that Kazu referred to the man by name.
“The other carpenters leave at sundown.”
“Ozuru stays late?”
“Most evenings, yes. The shogun wants the work completed quickly, and the delicate carvings have to be finished on-site.” Kazu shook his head slowly. “I don’t think Ozuru did this. He’s an artisan, not a killer.”
“They’re mutually exclusive?” Hiro asked.
“I’m more suspicious of Lady Netsuko.” Kazu glanced at the door and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Saburo was not a faithful husband. Ichiro didn’t know, but Netsuko did. Saburo claimed she didn’t mind, but recently he complained that she grew intolerant of his mistress.”
“But would she stab him to death?” Hiro wished he had looked more closely at Lady Netsuko. From what he remembered, she didn’t seem physically capable of killing her husband in hand-to-hand combat.
“I don’t know her well,” Kazu said, “but she’s an unusual woman and stronger than average.”
“Physically or emotionally?”
“Both.”
“Why kill him at the shogunate, risking witnesses?” Hiro asked. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“If she killed him at home, Ichiro might have seen her. She loves the boy. She wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“It’s worth looking into,” Hiro said, though he had no intention of doing so. “What did you actually do last night?”
Kazu gave him an innocent look. “I was passed out under a bridge, remember?”
Hiro frowned.
“I told you,” Kazu said. “I left the shogunate and went to Ginjiro’s, hoping Saburo would take his temper home and leave me in peace. When I returned to the office Saburo was dead.”
“How did you leave the shogunate after you found him?”
“Back over the wall, so I wouldn’t alert the guards. No one saw me enter or leave.”
“All right,” Hiro said, “wait ten minutes and leave by the veranda door. If Luis sees you, don’t tell him your name. You’re a wandering monk that Father Mateo allowed to spend the night in the garden.”
“He won’t question that?” Kazu asked.
“He’ll find it foolish, but no, he won’t ask questions.”
Hiro left Kazu and returned to the common room. Father Mateo sat alone by the hearth.
“Where’s Luis?” Hiro asked.
The Jesuit pointed to a door on the opposite side of the room. It led to Luis’s chamber. “Sleeping, or so he said. Did you finish your business?”
“Yes, and now we need to return to the shogun’s compound. I want to talk with Ozuru. After that, we’re going to Ginjiro’s.”
“The sake shop? Why?” Father Mateo looked confused.
“To witness Kazu’s miraculous reappearance.”
Chapter 15
Hiro and Father Mateo waited at the shogunate gates while the guards sent a runner for Akira.
One of the samurai guards regarded Father Mateo with interest, though social convention prevented him from addressing a higher-ranked man without invitation.
The Jesuit noticed and bowed.
Hiro stifled a disapproving sigh. Only foreigners and children ignored etiquette so bluntly. The shinobi cared little for social norms himself but recognized the importance of disappearing into a crowd. Then again, Father Mateo could hardly avoid attracting attention.
“Good morning,” the Jesuit said.
The guard gave an awkward smile and bowed.
“Good morning, Father-san,” he said as he straightened. “Please forgive my forwardness, but I am also a follower of the Jesus God, and yet I have never seen you in church. Are you new to Kyoto?”
“I have lived here almost three years,” Father Mateo said, “but my work rarely brings me to Father Vilela’s mission. I spread the Word among the merchants.”
At least he didn’t mention the entertainers and prostitutes, Hiro thought.
The guard looked curious rather than offended. “Does God hear commoners’ prayers?”
“Our Lord was born a commoner,” Father Mateo said.
The guard squinted as if trying to understand. “I never thought of that.”
“Indeed,” Father Mateo said. “God loves all men equally, regardless of status or birth.”
Hiro turned and bowed as Akira arrived.
The young samurai ignored the shinobi’s greeting. He narrowed his eyes at the guard. “The shogun does not pay you to gossip about your foreign religion.”
“I apologize, Miyoshi-san.” The guard returned to his post with a guilty expression.
“Please do not blame him,” Father Mateo said. “The fault is mine.”
“You are here to investigate a murder.” Akira paused and brought his temper under control, as if remembering that the priest was the shogun’s guest. He turned to Hiro. “I notice you have not found Ito Kazu.”
“Not yet,” Father Mateo said. “We returned to gather more evidence.”
Hiro stole a glance at the priest. He hadn’t expected the Jesuit to lie.
“We would like to speak with the carpenter Ozuru,” Hiro said.
“Why do you care about carpenters?” Akira’s eyebrows gathered like angry clouds. “Ito Kazu is to blame.”
“I am not so sure,” Hiro said.
“The evidence points to his guilt.”
“I will explain on the way to Saburo’s office,” Hiro said. “We also wish to review the scene of the crime.”
Akira frowned but led them toward the mansion. At the entrance he stopped and asked again, “What makes you think Kazu is innocent?”
“A murderer wouldn’t leave his own dagger behind,” Hiro said.
“Especially such a distinctive one,” Father Mateo added.
“The murderer could not hide the cause of death.” Akira led them into the mansion and through the maze of wood-paneled rooms. “Only a dagger could have caused Saburo’s injuries.”
“True,” Hiro said, “but knowing the type of weapon is very different from identifying its owner. The killer may have left the dagger behind because he intended us to draw a false conclusion.”
“Or else he was frightened,” Akira said. “Or maybe Kazu left it behind as a distraction, expecting us to believe he would not do so.”
Hiro hadn’t ruled that out, despite his hope that Kazu would prove truthful.
“That suggestion seems brought back from a distance,” Father Mateo said.
Akira stopped walking. “Pardon me?”
“He means that it seems unlikely,” Hiro said. “The Portuguese idiom doesn’t translate well. It’s closer to ‘fetched from afar.’”
Akira shook his head and resumed his pace. “It’s a miracle we can understand him at all.”
“Despite his awkwardness, he makes a point,” Hiro said. “A dagger is simple to conceal. Only a fool would leave it behind.”
“Then how did someone else get Kazu’s dagger?”
Akira led them into the room where the carpenters worked.
A trio of workmen bent over the unfinished beam. Their planes rasped in a rhythmic chorus. The scent of cedar shavings filled the air. The carpenters had made significant progress since the morning, and it looked as though they might finish the beam that day.
But Ozuru wasn’t there.
Akira continued across the room, still talking, oblivious to the master carpenter’s absence. “Maybe Saburo caught Kazu stealing, and Kazu killed him to keep the matter quiet.”
“What would Kazu have stolen?” Father Mateo asked. “Did Saburo keep gold or valuables in his office?”
They had reached the opposite side of the room. Hiro decided not to mention the missing carpenter. Ozuru might simply have gone to the latrine.
Akira slid open the door to the room where Saburo died. “He had access to secret documents. Maybe Kazu is a spy.”
That touched too close to the truth for Hiro’s comfort, but it would only increase suspicion to deny it.
“How long has Kazu worked for the shogun?” Father Mateo asked.
“He was here when I arrived a year ago,” Akira said, “and he didn’t seem new.”
“Then your suggestion stretches imagination,” Father Mateo said. “The shogun’s guards would have caught a spy long ago.”
“More importantly,” Hiro said, “there is a simpler explanation.”
Akira stepped into the office and moved aside to let the other men enter behind him. “Which is?”
“Ozuru admitted to arguing with Saburo yesterday evening. Did the guards remember what time the carpenter left the compound?”
Akira shook his head. “I spoke with them after you left this morning. No one remembers seeing the carpenter leave.”
“So he just disappeared?” Hiro paused. “If Saburo was killed by a spy—and I’m far from convinced he was—Ozuru’s guilt seems far more likely than Kazu’s.”
Akira hung his head. “I was sure Kazu did it, but now…” His head jerked upward. His hand flew to his sword. “We must seize Ozuru!”
“Wait,” Hiro said. “A guilty man may escape if arrested too quickly. We can’t explain how the killer acquired Kazu’s dagger or why he chose Saburo as the victim. If you arrest Ozuru without sufficient evidence, you will give him time to construct a persuasive lie.”