by Susan Spann
“With good reason,” Hiro said. “You didn’t tell the truth.”
He started walking away from the shogunate gates. As he expected, Kazu followed. Hiro watched the younger man carefully. He doubted Kazu would risk an attack within sight of the guards, but a wise man made no assumptions.
When they had almost reached the end of the block Hiro asked, “Did you think I wouldn’t reveal you as the murderer? Or did you just think yourself too smart to be caught?”
“I did not kill Saburo,” Kazu muttered through clenched teeth. “I swear it on my honor.”
Hiro bit back a snide remark about liars’ honor. Some things no man could hear without a fight. “Where were you two nights ago?”
“At Ginjiro’s, as I told you,” Kazu said. “Ask Den, the stable boy. He was in the garden outside the mansion when I returned.”
“You claimed no one saw you return,” Hiro said. “Besides, Den was out of town.”
“He wasn’t out of town,” Kazu said. “When I slipped back over the wall I saw him in the garden northeast of the kitchen, near the bakufu mansion. He saw me too, and bowed, so I pretended I was merely out for a stroll.
“And I told you that no one saw me come over the wall.”
Kazu sounded truthful, but his words didn’t match the stable master’s story.
Hiro considered the scars on his own shoulder and inner thigh, the price of another misplaced trust.
“The stable is on the opposite side of the compound,” Hiro said. “If Den was in Kyoto, which Masao disputes, what was he doing so far from his proper place?”
“He seemed to be crying,” Kazu said.
Male servants did not cry.
Hiro shook his head. “Masao said Den left the city.”
They had reached the southeast corner of the compound. Kazu looked to his right, along the road that paralleled the southern wall of the shogunate. “We should ask Masao why he lied.”
“I intend to,” Hiro said, “but there is no ‘we.’”
“You don’t trust me.”
Hiro looked at Kazu without emotion. “Your presence could frighten him into a different lie. Besides, I need your help another way.”
“So now you want the help of a murdering liar?” Kazu asked.
Hiro heard himself in the younger man’s tone but tried to ignore it. “A schedule book disappeared from Saburo’s office after the murder. Hisahide says the shogun asked him to retrieve it. I need to know if that’s true, and whether anything else was taken.”
It was risky to ask for the younger man’s help, but Hiro knew no other way to monitor Kazu’s movements without offending.
“I don’t believe Hisahide’s story,” Kazu said. “The shogun would have retrieved the ledger personally. He wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to handle it—especially Matsunaga Hisahide.” Kazu glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “Do you know why Hisahide came to Kyoto?”
Hiro shook his head. His assignment hadn’t required a detailed study of provincial politics.
“When Daimyo Miyoshi Chokei died last year, most people expected his childhood friend—Matsunaga Hisahide—to succeed him as the lord of Yamato Province.”
“The daimyo had no relatives?” Hiro asked.
“He had three brothers, and a son, all of whom predeceased him under suspicious circumstances.”
“Hisahide killed them?”
“No one dared suggest it,” Kazu said, “and with good reason. Hisahide is a dangerous man.
“After Miyoshi Chokei died, his will revealed that he had adopted his nephew in secret and named the boy his heir. But the new daimyo is only a child. His regents—trusted Miyoshi clansmen—sent Hisahide to Kyoto immediately.”
“And the shogun knows this?” Hiro asked, though he guessed the answer before he saw Kazu’s nod of confirmation.
“I’ll find out about the ledger,” Kazu said.
“I’ll come to your office after I speak with Masao.”
Chapter 26
Kazu turned back toward the compound entrance, but Hiro headed west along the southern wall of the shogunate compound. The shinobi refused to deny his growling stomach a bowl of noodles just because Kazu didn’t want to be late for work.
Half an hour and one large breakfast later, Hiro entered the shogunate through the stable gate in the western wall. He found Masao sweeping the earthen yard.
“Good morning,” Hiro said. “Have you remembered anything more about the night Ashikaga-san died?”
The stable master feigned a smile that would have fooled most men. “There is nothing to remember. I wasn’t here and Den was visiting relatives out of town.”
“Curious,” Hiro said. “A samurai claims to have seen Den here that evening.”
Masao’s smile faded. “Please come with me.”
Hiro followed him into the stable. The long wooden structure had double doors on either end for easy access to the stalls that lined the interior. A hay-strewn corridor ran up the center of the building, and a raised wooden platform at one end provided a living space for Masao and Den. The air inside the stable was fresh but heavily scented with horses, hay, and the underlying odors of wood and leather.
Masao leaned his broom against the wall and turned to Hiro, face grim, like a man owning up to a crime. “Den left Kyoto the night Ashikaga-san died.”
“Why did you say otherwise?” Hiro asked.
“Why does any man lie? I was afraid. But Den did not kill Ashikaga Saburo.” Masao gestured to the platform. “Please sit, if you wish. I’m sorry I have no better place to offer.”
Ths shinobi didn’t move.
Masao nodded, accepting Hiro’s decision to stand. “When I returned from dinner I thought I would find Den sleeping, but he was awake and terrified. He said he had argued with Ashikaga-san about a girl. I’ve felt the brunt of Ashikaga-san’s temper more than once, and I thought it wise to send the boy out of town to let the samurai’s anger cool.”
“Would the girl be Jun, the maid?” Hiro asked.
Masao raised his hands defensively. “I promise you, the relationship is entirely innocent. Den hopes to marry Jun, in time, though he hasn’t mentioned it to her. It wouldn’t be appropriate before he finishes his apprenticeship.”
Hiro found Masao’s concern understandable but irrelevant. “Did Den describe the argument?”
Masao indicated the stable door. “He said that Jun ran in, out of breath, and claimed that Ashikaga-san was chasing her. Den hid the girl in an empty stall. When Ashikaga-san arrived Den claimed he hadn’t seen her.”
“Which Ashikaga-san disputed.”
Masao nodded. “Den wouldn’t change his story, so Ashikaga-san left in a rage. Jun hid here a while longer, and afterward Den walked her back to the kitchen.”
Assuming the timing matched, which it could, Masao’s new story put Den outside the shogunate kitchen exactly as Kazu claimed. That didn’t prove Kazu’s innocence, but it told Hiro what to investigate next.
“I need to speak with Den,” he said.
“Why?” Masao asked. “I’ve told you everything.”
Hiro knew concern for the boy was the key to obtaining the stable master’s assistance. “I need to speak with him personally in order to persuade the shogun that Den did not kill Saburo.”
A genuine smile relaxed Masao’s face. “He is staying with my cousin, the apothecary, at Ōtsu. But, if you please … would you speak to Den there, rather than bringing him back to Kyoto? I am worried about his safety.”
“Ashikaga Saburo is dead,” Hiro said. “His anger is no longer cause for concern.”
When Masao’s smile faltered, Hiro added, “I have no intention of blaming an innocent boy for this crime or allowing anyone else to do so either.”
* * *
Hiro left the compound and retraced his route to the shogunate’s east entrance along the public roads. The shinobi could have reached Kazu’s office faster by crossing the shogun’s compound, but he decided not to r
isk it without an escort. Heightened security gave the guards a motive to detain and interrogate strangers, and Hiro wanted to finish his business and leave for Ōtsu as quickly as possible.
The shogun’s guards escorted Hiro into the waiting room of the bakufu mansion and sent a runner for Kazu. The six-mat room overflowed with samurai waiting for an audience. The musty odor of sweat-dampened silk overpowered the sandalwood incense smoking wanly in a brazier near the entrance.
A pair of richly dressed samurai stood by the door. When Hiro entered, one of them leaned toward the other and whispered, “Ronin.” Both men sneered as if smelling something foul.
Hiro ignored them and waited.
Minutes passed. One of the well-dressed samurai sneezed, presumably from standing too close to the incense.
Eventually Kazu arrived and led Hiro back through the mansion’s many tatami-floored chambers.
“You were right,” Kazu said as they passed through an empty room, “this month’s guard schedule is missing from the office.”
“Does the shogun have it?” Hiro asked.
“I don’t know.” Kazu looked uncomfortable. “I can’t approach him directly, and asking questions might raise suspicions.”
Hiro decided not to mention that Kazu’s refusal to ask was suspicious too.
When they reached the final audience chamber before Saburo’s office, Hiro noticed Ozuru at work on the transom carving. The master carpenter had his back to the entrance. His chisel and hammer tapped a steady accompaniment to the other men’s scraping planes.
Hiro leaned toward Kazu. “I need to speak with the carpenter for a moment.”
Ozuru turned, surprising Hiro, who didn’t think he spoke loudly enough to be heard.
The master carpenter bowed. His subordinates noticed the samurai and knelt.
“Get up and get back to work,” Kazu said.
The assistants stood and resumed their planing. Ozuru waited, inaction confirming he heard the shinobi’s words.
“I’ll wait for you in the office.” Kazu continued across the room.
“May I help you?” Ozuru asked.
Hiro wasted no time on pleasantries. “Two nights ago, which gate did you use to leave the shogunate compound?”
Ozuru smiled. “Servants and artisans always use the stable gate.”
“What time did you leave?”
“Just before midnight,” Ozuru said. “The bells rang as I reached the gates of my ward.”
“Who let you out of the compound?”
The carpenter glanced at the transom carving as if he longed to return to work. “The stable boy. I’m afraid I don’t know his name.”
“I have one more question,” Hiro said. “Why did you leave work yesterday?”
“I broke a chisel. I went to buy another.”
Ozuru’s polite but conversational tone struck Hiro as unusual. Few commoners exhibited such composure when speaking with samurai. Then again, Ozuru had worked at the shogunate long enough to become accustomed to conversing with men of higher rank.
“Thank you,” Hiro said. “I will not keep you from your work.”
Ozuru bowed and returned to his carving as Hiro left the room.
The shinobi paused in the doorway to Saburo’s outer office. The grassy scent of fresh tatami permeated the air, along with the sharper odor of Kazu’s wintergreen hair oil.
Someone had replaced the ruined mats and scrubbed the bloodstains from the floor. New paper panels set the wall aglow.
Kazu knelt before the desk to the right of the entrance. He gestured for Hiro to enter and close the shoji. As the paneled door slid closed Kazu opened a lacquered box that sat on the desk before him. He removed a folded parchment and extended it toward Hiro.
“You’ll want to see this. It was hidden in Saburo’s letter box.”
Chapter 27
Hiro unfolded the parchment. “It’s unsigned.”
“Read it,” Kazu said. “Would you have signed it?”
The writer wasted no space on idle words. Even the salutation had been omitted.
Our friends will arrive on the eighteenth, as planned. Make sure they gain access and find the proper men on duty. Full payment is expected upon completion
Hiro looked up. “Completion of what?”
“I don’t know,” Kazu said. “The sentence looks unfinished, but I suspect that’s intentional. The writer didn’t want anyone but Saburo to understand.”
After a pause he added, “Lord Oda’s emissaries are expected on the eighteenth.”
“Two days from now.” Hiro turned the letter over. The back was blank. “You found this in Saburo’s letter box? Strange that no one found it yesterday.”
“Hisahide wouldn’t have known to look,” Kazu said. “Saburo kept the box a secret—even from me, or so he thought. I’m bothered by the letter, though. I’m not sure it’s genuine. The parchment shows no signs of handling, suggesting it didn’t travel far. But if the writer was in Kyoto he would have delivered that kind of message in person.”
Hiro agreed. Only fools put things in writing unnecessarily.
“Also,” Kazu continued, “the letter, combined with the missing ledger, implies a plot against the shogun—but I don’t think Saburo would do that. He was greedy but never disloyal.”
“Perhaps someone made him a better offer,” Hiro said.
“Would you trust Lord Oda to keep his word?” Kazu shook his head. “Saburo was a selfish man, but he knew where his power came from.”
“Did Saburo receive private correspondence often?” Hiro asked.
“Daily,” Kazu said, “but most of it wasn’t really confidential. I think he kept it private just for show.”
Without warning, the door slid open. Hisahide entered the office, followed by Akira.
“What’s that?” Hisahide frowned at the letter in Hiro’s hands.
The shinobi handed over the parchment.
“Where did you find this?” Hisahide demanded. “Who was it sent to?”
“I found it this morning, in Ashikaga-san’s private letter box,” Kazu said.
Hisahide glanced at Akira. “Why didn’t you find this yesterday?”
Akira glared at Kazu. “What letter box?”
“A hidden box for private correspondence,” Kazu said. “I was the only other person who knew about it.”
Akira looked at Hiro. “You showed it to him?” He sounded offended.
“I apologize if I erred,” Kazu said. “You told me Matsui Hiro was investigating the murder. The letter seemed relevant to his inquiry.”
“Is this a good enough excuse to stop Lord Oda’s men from entering Kyoto?” Hiro asked.
“Not without offending Lord Oda and risking war.” Hisahide turned to Akira. “I need the new firearms immediately. Find the merchant and get the weapons now.”
“If you mean the Portuguese merchant, Luis,” Hiro said, “he left for Ōtsu this morning.”
Hisahide looked surprised, but the emotion faded almost at once. Hiro suspected the samurai knew not only where Hiro lived but also who shared the house.
“When will he return?” Hisahide asked.
“Tomorrow,” Hiro said, “and he will have your weapons with him.”
“Leaving less than a day to equip the men,” Hisahide said. “Akira, ride to Ōtsu and tell the merchant I need those weapons immediately. Use your shogunate pass and leave word with the guards to ensure there are no delays at the barricades.”
“I’ll go with you,” Hiro said. “I have business at Ōtsu.”
“You have no business outside Kyoto until Saburo’s killer is found,” Hisahide said.
“I need to interview Den, the stable boy,” Hiro said, “and Den is currently at Ōtsu.”
“He wasn’t here when Saburo was killed. What could he possibly know?” Akira asked.
“He was here,” Hiro said. “Two witnesses saw him here the night of the murder.”
“I will let you leave the city on one condition,
” Hisahide said. “You will ride with Akira and will not leave his side. If you try to flee, I will kill the foreign priest.”
Hiro had no intention of leaving Father Mateo behind as a hostage, but before he could object, Hisahide continued, “Please excuse me. The shogun will want to see this immediately.”
He turned on his heel and left the room.
“Let’s go,” Akira said, “we should ride at once.”
Hiro needed a minute to think. “It’s a long ride to Ōtsu. I need to visit the latrine.”
Akira tried not to show his distaste but failed. “Kazu can escort you and bring you to the stable when you finish. I’ll meet you there.”
* * *
As they approached the narrow building that housed the latrine Kazu asked, “Was that an excuse or do you really need…?”
Hiro gestured for Kazu to follow him inside. The sharp scent of ammonia—and worse—rose from the oval slots in the floor, suggesting the collection pots beneath were in need of cleaning. Some air seeped in through the slatted windows, but barely enough to make the atmosphere bearable.
“Where did you go after leaving Ginjiro’s the night Saburo died?” Hiro asked.
Kazu raised a hand to his nose. “That’s what you needed me here to ask? Did you think the smell would make me change my story?”
“Diversion works only on those not trained to use it.” Hiro turned to face the latrine. He heard Kazu leave the building but didn’t worry. The younger man would wait.
When he left the latrine, Hiro took a deep breath of rain-scented air to flush the less pleasant odors from his lungs. He fell in step beside Kazu, who started walking the moment Hiro appeared.
“Where did you go between Ginjiro’s and coming back to the shogunate?” Hiro asked.
For a moment, Kazu didn’t answer. He gave Hiro a sidelong glance. “I cannot tell you.”
“You know what that implies.”
“It implies exactly nothing.” Kazu said. “I did not murder Saburo.”
“So you claim, but that doesn’t prove it.”
Kazu turned on Hiro. “You question my word?”
“You are trained to lie.” Hiro felt his anger rising to answer Kazu’s.