by Ben Stevens
‘And so he was bitten and stung – with that strange wound upon his neck being, I strongly suspect, the cause of death.’
‘But how, exactly, was this wound received, master?’
‘That, Kukai,’ returned my master, narrowing his eyes as he also now scanned the nearby edge of the forest, ‘is something I would very much like to know…’
2
Li Wu’s body had been discovered by the other Chinese laborers, after Tsuda had marched them to the silver mine at first light that morning. Li Wu’s absence had already been noticed, of course, but Tsuda had not allowed for any sort of search operation – say of the river and nearby area – that would have served to reduce his workers hours that day.
But when Wu’s body had been found lying close by one of the entrances to the mine, the workers had begun weeping, picking it up and carrying it back to the riverbank. Numerous shouts and threats by Tsuda had quite failed to stop their return journey – and the general grieving which my master and I had heard as we walked along a forest path...
Such was the information my master received, from the middle-aged Chinaman as we now accompanied the workers, along with Tsuda, towards the mine. Li Wu’s body had been buried just inside the forest a short time before, the Chinese covering the corpse with whatever stones and rocks they’d been able to find, so that no animals or rodents would be able to scavenge it, before filling the several-feet deep hole back in with earth.
‘It could well be, Kukai, that Li Wu was stung upon his neck by a wasp – and that he had a fatal intolerance to the sting of just such an insect,’ conjectured my master. ‘I have heard of such a thing. Indeed, I was once able to prove that a man was innocent of the murder of his wife – a crime for which he’d already been convicted and sentenced to death – when she’d in fact had a remarkable, albeit fatal, reaction to the sting of a simple bee.’
‘Would that account for the somewhat enlarged swelling, master, on the side of that man’s neck?’ I asked. ‘I’ve never seen a wound quite like it, if it was indeed just the result of a simple insect sting.’
My master gave me a sidelong glance.
‘You’re thinking about blowpipes again, Kukai? Perhaps a vengeful ninja lurking within this forest…?’
I briefly met my master’s eye. It was difficult to determine whether he was being flippant, or sincere. Then I looked ahead, at the man named Tsuda who was leading this group of Chinese men and women – together with my master and me.
Judging Tsuda to be just out of earshot, I said quietly –
‘Well, supposing he – Tsuda – has secretly employed such a guard to keep watch upon the area around the silver mine at night, master? And that Tsuda has given this guard, this possible ninja, strict instructions about how any would-be thieves are to be dealt with? I mean – by death.
‘Everyone knows ninja are somehow able to see even in near-pitch darkness,’ I continued. ‘So this ninja spots Li Wu snooping around, searching for these hidden blocks of silver, raises the blowpipe to his lips and –’
‘For some reason best known to himself, decides to remove the poisoned dart after the errant laborer has collapsed to the floor and died,’ deadpanned my master.
‘Well, why wouldn’t he?’ I protested. ‘It protects the very fact that a ninja is, indeed, present in this area, while making it appear as though Li Wu died from some strange, inexplicable reaction to a bee or wasp sting – hardly a mosquito bite, for these were plentiful upon his skin.
‘The perfect result, I would have assumed, for these wholly anonymous warriors of the night – that is, the ninja!’
At these final words, my voice automatically became a little louder. I saw Tsuda glance backwards, to give me a curious look.
‘Well, Tsuda’s expression would hardly appear to suggest that you’ve deduced his entire fiendish plan, at least,’ said my master quietly.
‘Then I’ve really no idea concerning anything, master,’ I replied, not a little tightly.
‘That is not to say,’ returned my master quickly, ‘that I think you are entirely incor–
‘But, here we are at the mine…’
It was located in a natural ‘hump’ in the ground, close by a large swamp so that the air was thick with mosquitoes and other repulsive, winged insects. There were several narrow entrances leading underground; I peered inside one, to see a tunnel or shaft with its roof and sides precariously braced by a number of rotten-looking timber beams. I would not for a minute have ventured inside this shaft, not for any amount of money.
But taking their tools – hammers, chisels and a couple of other items – the Chinese trudged inside, all with the same fatalistic look upon their faces. In a few moments, I heard the ringing sound of metal upon rock, as they struck away at the sides of the tunnel. They worked by lamplight, the katorisenko burning nearby, the smoke frequently making them cough but at least driving away the mosquitoes and other insects.
‘Well, Ennin?’ said Tsuda, giving my master a hard stare.
‘By which you mean…?’ prompted my master casually.
‘By which I mean you have seen everything you wished to see?’ snapped back the stoutish man. ‘To know that I do not, actually, have some ninja running around at night, keeping an eye on things for me?
‘Yes, Ennin-sensei,’ continued Tsuda, ‘I overheard some of the conversation between you and your servant. Absolute nonsense!’
As this man spoke, it seemed to me that he protested just a little too greatly…
But my master said only –
‘Forgive us, Tsuda-san. We did not wish to cast any aspersions upon your good character. We have already seen how well you treat your workers, back there on the riverbank…’
My master allowed the veiled sarcasm to hang in the air for a few moments, before continuing –
‘But there seems little point to remain here. We were heading to the town that is only a few ri from here; and so I believe that Kukai and I will be on our way…’
‘Goodbye, Ennin-sensei,’ grunted Tsuda. ‘A pleasure to meet you.’
‘Likewise,’ returned my master, as, beckoning me to follow him, he walked quickly away from the silver mine, heading back towards the path we had left earlier that morning…
3
We stayed at this small town – Aomori – for a number of days. We’d been requested to come here by a wealthy merchant, who claimed that he was being tormented by the ghost of his dead brother. I pass over the particular details of the case (maybe one day I will write a full account of it), but my master was soon able to prove that it was, in fact, the merchant’s most trusted servant who’d been cleverly masquerading as this ‘ghost’, with the ultimate intention of receiving all of the merchant’s wealth, upon that man’s intended – and imminent – demise. My master also provided irrefutable proof that it was the same servant who’d killed the merchant’s brother, making this death look like suicide.
With this particular mystery solved, and the usual fee paid to my master by the merchant (the servant had already been arrested for the murder of the merchant’s brother, soon to be found guilty and thus beheaded), my master and I prepared to leave this town.
Which was precisely when one of the Chinese laborers, a man of about thirty, came running into this town, gasping for breath and with his bare feet torn and bleeding due to his wild flight through the forest.
As he knew no Japanese, it was his good fortune that he came across my master, and thus I, almost straight away. His chest heaving from his recent exertions, he immediately launched into an excited jabbering, with my master providing an almost simultaneous translation for my benefit.
‘There has been another death,’ stated my master grimly, his eyes fixed upon this young laborer. ‘This man’s friend… He, like Li Wu, sneaked out from the ‘boat village’ late yesterday night, while the other laborers and also Tsuda slept.
‘They found his body this morning – only this time, there was something in the corpse’s han
d…’
My master looked puzzled – and then the young Chinese man gave my master what was in his grip.
I could not restrain a gasp – it was a dart, exactly like that fired from a blowpipe…! Or close enough, anyway… It was extremely thin and slightly conical in shape, tapering to a sharp point at one end. It was dark brown, indeed almost black in color, and perhaps three inches in length.
‘This…’ said my master, as the Chinese man jabbered away again – ‘This was found in the young man’s hand; and with his dying breath, he said the words ‘The… yellow… killer…”
‘He was still alive when the other laborers found him, master?’ I asked excitedly.
My master asked a few questions in Chinese (at least, I presumed they were questions), and nodded solemnly at the answers.
‘Yes,’ he then replied. ‘Upon realizing that this man was missing, they immediately set out for the mine, even earlier than usual. It was barely light when they found him, lying close to where Li Wu’s body had been discovered…’
My master at once broke off, his gaze becoming fixed and distant in that manner I knew so well.
‘It was light, Kukai – note that,’ he said softly. ‘So the victim had been able to see his murderer – this mysterious ‘Yellow Killer’…’
Shaking his head, my master continued –
‘But this dart was undoubtedly poisoned; and fired into the jugular vein of a victim this poison acts extremely swiftly. In this case, the victim pulled this dart from his neck, perhaps at that very same moment catching a fleeting glimpse of his killer…
‘I wonder if we were to go back to that mine, and see exactly where it was Li Wu was found, we would not perhaps discover another one of these darts lying upon the forest floor? Foolishly, I did not think to search for such a thing before…’
The Chinese laborer said something.
‘He says that the others are now refusing to work at this mine, Kukai. They have returned to that floating village of theirs…
‘Come, Kukai!’ cried my master then. ‘We will return to the mine, and this floating village, and see if we cannot catch this so-called ‘Yellow Killer’! This is surely much more of a challenge, than this recent nonsense concerning an alleged ‘ghost’.’
I did not at all share my master’s apparent enthusiasm for this case. Something was living within that forbidding forest, firing tiny poisoned darts at the Chinese laborers if they dared to steal around the silver mine after dark? And what would happen, exactly, when this ‘Yellow Killer’ realized that we were trying to capture him – to make him atone for these two murders (so far)?
I could not help but suspect that in this instance, my master and I would surely become the Yellow Killer’s next targets…
Getting down on his knees, my master quickly searched around the area where the Chinese laborer who’d fetched us from the village said that the body of Li Wu had been found. There were a multitude of leaves upon the forest floor, loose earth, small sticks and the like, but with a triumphant cry my master soon stood back up, holding another one of these fiendish-looking, dark-brown darts.
‘Yes,’ said my master. ‘We know now that it was this poisoned dart which entered into Li Wu’s neck, the poison causing that unusually large swelling and redness around the entrance site. It could well be that the other victim had a slightly stronger constitution, which allowed him to cling onto this life until the others found him.’
I resisted the urge to look about me, at the thick bamboo and the tops of the trees all around. There was only a small clearing in this naturally ‘raised’ part of the forest, made however long ago but still partially maintained, for the silver mine. Otherwise, everything made for perfect cover for the Yellow Killer, who might decide to strike again any moment now…
My master’s gaze was fixed upon the two darts he held in his hand. They were identical in appearance, fashioned by an expert… A murderer, I quickly reminded myself, but an expert nonetheless…
My master continued to stare at the darts. The young Chinese man looked at him, unsure as to what was happening. The pupils of my master’s eyes were like pinpricks, the familiar sign that he was deep in thought…
Finally, he said quietly –
‘Kukai, go with this man to the river-village. Wait for me there. If Tsuda starts complaining, inform him that he and the Chinese laborers are not to return to the mine until I give the word – for their own safety.’
‘Yes, master.’
‘I have to go back to that town, Aomori, to collect one or two items. But I will hopefully return shortly before dusk – and then, Kukai, we will go hunting for this ‘Yellow Killer’…’
4
The Chinese laborers sat in their ‘floating village’ – although actually there were only a few huts upon those logs that had been lashed together – while Tsuda remained on the riverbank, strutting about and fretting at the time being ‘wasted’, as he called it, while my master was off doing…
Well, whatever it was that he was doing.
‘There is silver there to be mined, to be obtained from the rocks down in those tunnels, and my workforce and I are to just sit here idle because your oh-so-famous ‘master’ has ordered it?’ demanded Tsuda, shooting me an angry look.
‘Maybe you would just like to continue with the way things have been lately?’ I suggested. ‘I mean, what with your laborers being killed one-by-one, until at last you don’t have any workers left – and so are obliged to go into that dangerous-looking mine yourself.’
‘It’s quite simple – if they don’t sneak out at night to try and steal from me, then they stay alive,’ retorted Tsuda.
‘And why is this? Why are they dying at night?’
Asking this, I stared hard at Tsuda. But I have to say that he did not seem in the least bit evasive, as he replied –
‘How am I supposed to know? Maybe it is this fantastical ninja of yours! But if it is, then that’s got nothing to do with me.
‘Other than that, all this nonsense you’re telling me concerning poisoned darts, mysterious assassins called the ‘Yellow Killer’ and all the rest of it is serving only to hurt my pocket!’
‘Your compassion does you credit,’ I muttered, my eyes again stealing to the thick border of trees and bamboo groves growing along the riverbank. It was by now early evening; shortly, the light would begin to fade…
Both Tsuda and I jumped, as something suddenly came crashing out of the forest. Tsuda clutched his chest, and stared indignantly at my master as he approached.
‘Thank you for that rather… dramatic entry of yours, Ennin-sensei,’ grunted Tsuda, his brow sweaty.
‘Come, Kukai,’ said my master, ignoring the man. ‘We have to try and catch ourselves a killer. But we need to do this before it gets fully dark – and we cannot burn anything like a katorisenko.’
‘In case the assassin smells the smoke – we are going to hide somewhere in the forest, and then try to spot him?’ I asked.
‘Well… Something like that, anyway,’ replied my master evasively.
Tsuda gave a croak of laughter.
‘Good luck hiding anywhere in that forest without a katorisenko, especially if you’re going anywhere near the mine – and that swamp that’s just a little way behind it. The mosquitoes, midges and the rest will eat you alive!’
‘Ah, that reminds me,’ said my master, and from out of his kimono he produced what I saw was some chopped tobacco, contained in a small pouch.
‘We have the gaijin to thank for this habit of ‘smoking’ which has recently become so popular in Japan, but which I’m certain is not at all good for the body,’ declared my master. ‘However, when the tobacco is mixed with water it becomes a rather foul-smelling sort of ‘paste’, which when rubbed onto the skin forms an excellent mosquito deterrent.’
Getting a little water from the river, my master proceeded to make this ‘paste’, which we then applied to every exposed area of our skin. We were watched in silence b
y the Chinese laborers; finally, the same middle-aged man who’d spoken before shouted something at my master, who said a few words in reply.
The man’s face suddenly became agonized, and he shouted a few more words – as though he was pleading for something…
‘What is he saying, master?’
‘He asked what we are doing, and I told him. He’s just begged us not to go into that forest – for he thinks we will be the next victims of this so-called ‘Yellow Killer’.’
‘Oh,’ was all I felt capable of replying, as my master and I then began walking towards the edge of the forest, the sun slowly starting to set...
It was a lot darker within the forest. We stole quietly but quickly towards the silver mine, the entrances to the tunnels black, forbidding squares. But then we passed beyond the mine, the ground starting to become a little soggy underfoot. Tall reeds were growing in this area, and there was the strong stink of rotting vegetation and general marsh gases. Insects landed upon my skin but immediately took off again without scratching or biting, obviously repelled by the tobacco which my master and I had smeared upon ourselves.
‘I believe it is in this area that we may spot the Yellow Killer,’ murmured my master, as we both crouched down among some tall reeds. ‘I dare not go any further, because there may well be dangerous ‘quick-mud’ around the marsh.
‘Equally we cannot linger here, once it has got fully dark. We will not be able to see the Yellow Killer – but he may well be able to detect us. And I am not sure how effective a deterrent this rudimentary ‘tobacco paste’ will be against such an assassin…’
The regular reader will be unsurprised to learn that I had not the slightest idea what my master was talking about. How would this killer ‘detect’ us, once it became dark – together with the fact that we were also in hiding? And if this ‘Yellow Assassin’ was somebody firing poisoned darts from a blowpipe – as the evidence we’d discovered so far certainly seemed to suggest! – then exactly what difference would it make what we had covered our skins with…?