Again, Shin hesitated. “That is a strangely familiar saying.”
Tetsua smiled thinly. It was the expression of a man used to getting what he wanted. Shin deployed his own smile in reply. They faced one another like that for several moments. Then, as if satisfied, the governor looked down at the board and made the first move.
“I count your grandfather among my friends.”
Shin ignored the board, and kept his eyes on the man. “I’m certain that he reciprocates that consideration.”
Tetsua chuckled. “Doubtful.”
“Have you spoken to him of late?”
“Not since the death of your predecessor.”
Shin met Tetsua’s gaze and did not look away. “He asked you not to investigate.”
“Death by misadventure does not require investigation.”
“Is that what you believe – or what he told you?”
Tetsua frowned. “He told me nothing. I am the imperial governor. And this city does not belong to the Crane.”
Shin bowed his head, accepting the implied chastisement. He moved a stone, cutting two of Tetsua’s groups apart. “Indeed, it does not. My apologies, I spoke without thought.”
“A common ailment.” Tetsua looked at the board and stroked his wispy beard in consideration. He made a move, and balance was restored. “Do you believe I was in error?”
“It is not for me to say.”
“If you will not, who will?”
White and black stones slid across the board in a stately dance. For a time, there was only silence. “This city was just a village, once,” Tetsua said, eventually. “A bare handful of rude homes, scattered along the banks of the junction. Then came the Great Clans, and they raised up a city from the mud. Not a great city, but an important one. A vital one.”
“I would not disagree.”
“Then you would also agree that it is fragile. For years, the Lion controlled this port. And when the Unicorn returned, they also laid claim – though, some said, only at the instigation of the Crane.”
Shin winced, well aware of his clan’s history with the Unicorn. The Crane had been responsible for the Unicorn’s admission into the Emerald Empire and, later, for civilizing them. Or, rather, attempting to do so. The bonds between the two clans ran deep. Though he had never heard a rumor like the one Tetsua had mentioned, he could well believe it. Many of the Unicorn’s actions over the years had come at the counsel of the Crane.
“Only the command of the Emperor – and the intervention of the Dragon – stopped the fighting. And only his authority – through me – maintains peace here. But authority is a tenuous thing. It only has the power it is given. Defiance weakens it.” He tapped a stone with his finger. Shin’s gaze flicked to the stone and he clucked his tongue. Tetsua glanced at him. “A mistake?”
“That depends entirely on whether or not you are playing to win.”
Again, Tetsua unsheathed his smile. Shin parried with a frown. He sat back and took in the silence of the room. He could not even hear the breathing of the guards outside. He looked at the board more closely. “You’re not, are you?” he said, after a moment.
“No. I am playing for time.” The governor paused. “What do you know of this city, Crane? Truly know, I mean. Not its history. Not what you might have heard, or been told. What have you observed for yourself?”
Shin’s frown deepened. “Even at its most peaceful, the city is a powder keg. The Lion are belligerent, the Unicorn ambitious, and the Dragon inscrutable.”
“And the Dragonfly?”
“Incidental.”
Tetsua nodded. “A good summary. But any urchin could tell me the same.”
Stung, Shin leaned forward. “I admit, I have made little study of the matter. People interest me. Politics, not so much.” He looked at Tetsua. “Why am I here, Governor? What do you wish of me?”
“A bit more respect, for starters.” Tetsua’s tone was mild, but his words held the bite of authority. “Remember who I am, Crane.”
Shin ducked his head. “My apologies. My impatience got the better of me.”
Tetsua gestured dismissively. “I was once impatient as well. My time as governor has taught me better. But you are right. I have been remiss. You are here because of rice.”
Shin blinked. “Rice?”
“A shipment of rice, specifically. Meant for the storehouses of the Lion.”
“And what is so special about this shipment? Did it fail to arrive, perhaps?”
“No. Not quite.” Tetsua reached down to the floor, retrieved a small teak box, opened it and extracted something. Shin started in shock and then stared.
“Is that a rat?”
“Obviously.”
Shin studied the carcass, noting the unusual bloating and the contorted limbs. Ignoring the smell as best he could, he leaned forward to examine it more closely. “Poison,” he said, after a moment. “And not one I’m immediately familiar with.”
Tetsua nodded. “Even so.”
“Someone poisoned the shipment.”
“Indeed.”
“Who?”
“That is why I asked you here, Daidoji Shin. I want you to find out.”
Chapter Six
Investigative Technique
Shin was silent for a moment. Then, unable to stop himself, he laughed out loud. It was a ridiculous request – impossible. And he said as much. “Surely this is a jest of some sort,” he protested. “You are having fun at my expense.”
“I assure you that I am not.” Tetsua swept the rat back into its box. “The Lion are ready to go to war over this.” He fixed Shin with a steady gaze. “Sadly, the Unicorn seem only too happy to oblige. Violence has long simmered beneath the surface here. I will not be able to stop it when it surges up at last.”
“And you think I can? What exactly do you expect of me, my lord?”
“Exactly as I said. Investigate the matter. Uncover the truth.”
“You have investigators of your own – why me?”
“My investigators will get nowhere – this act serves the purposes of both the Lion and the Unicorn. Neither is truly interested in the truth, and both will claim I am biased on behalf of the other.”
“And what about the Dragon?”
Tetsua hesitated. Shin paused, and then nodded. “Ah. I see.”
Tetsua frowned. “What do you think you see?”
Shin sat back. “Your weekly visits with Tonbo Kuma,” he said. It was an open secret. Tetsua had begun paying regular social calls to the enigmatic shugenja of the Dragonfly Clan, though no one quite knew why. Having never met the esteemed shugenja himself, Shin was not inclined to speculate.
Tetsua nodded and looked away, as if ashamed. “Yes. Perhaps I have erred in choosing my… friends.” Shin felt a pang of sympathy for the other man. He could only imagine the sheer drudgery of Tetsua’s day-to-day existence. An able administrator who spent most of his time dealing with the, no-doubt tedious, difficulties posed by the clans who squabbled over control of the city. No surprise, then, that he had found solace in the company of someone like Tonbo Kuma.
In contrast to Tetsua, Shin knew nothing about Kuma. They were a cipher as far as the Crane were concerned, and Shin had made no effort to investigate further. But he’d heard stories regardless. Supposedly, it was Kuma who had taught Tetsua how to play Go. And there had supposedly been some trouble involving a young woman, Iuchi Shichiro’s daughter Konomi, if popular rumor was to be believed.
“I don’t think so,” Shin said, finally. “But it is clear to me that someone counted on that friendship. The other clans will view your judgement as compromised.”
Tetsua looked at him. “Yes. But the Crane are impartial in this matter. You have nothing to gain from any one clan becoming ascendant. That is why you are the perfect one to explore the matter.”
“They may not welcome you, but they will speak with you. You speak with my voice in this matter, and to ignore you is to ignore me.” Tetsua clasped his hands behind his back. “In fact, I have already made it clear to the representative of the Lion, Akodo Minami, that you are to be extended every courtesy.”
“And what did she say about that?”
Tetsua hesitated. “She has yet to reply,” he admitted with some chagrin.
Shin hid a smile behind his fan. “Nonetheless, I feel I should visit the Lion first. It might go towards assuaging their hostility somewhat.”
“Probably wise.”
“Iuchi Shichiro is a family friend, though we have not spoken since I was a boy. I will impose upon our prior relationship and see if he will speak to me.”
“A family friend,” Tetsua repeated. “A friend of your grandfather’s you mean?”
Shin’s smile was strained. “Yes. Though that might be rather a strong word for their relationship. They did not part on the best of terms, I’m told.”
Tetsua frowned. “He may hold that against you.”
Shin gestured airily. “We’ll see. What about Tonbo Kuma, the Dragonfly representative? I’m told they rarely see anyone at all – except for yourself, of course.”
Tetsua’s frown deepened. “I have sent word to them. I expect that they will see you in their own time. Though I must say that I do not believe them to be involved in this matter.”
“No? They could easily stand to profit if the Lion and the Unicorn go to war.”
“No one profits if it comes to war,” Tetsua said sharply. He recovered quickly. “Forgive me. My temper is… frayed of late.”
“No apologies necessary, my lord. You are under a great deal of strain.” Shin snapped his fan shut and tapped his lips. “What about the others? The Scorpion, the Mantis – both have trade representatives in the city.”
“The Scorpion have already assured me that they were not involved, as have the Mantis. And neither would profit from this action, at least not in any way that I can see. They have no claim to the city, and their interests are limited to the purchase of rice and grain from the Lion.”
“Rice,” Shin said. “That brings up another question – this rice… why are the Lion importing something that they regularly sell?”
Tetsua smiled faintly. “You don’t know much about trade, do you?”
“My interests have always veered somewhat to the left of the commercial, I fear.”
The governor nodded, as if he had expected that answer. “Demand often outstrips supply these days. As such, the Lion have often found it necessary to buy and sell certain goods, including quantities of rice.”
Shin pursed his lips, considering this information. “That means that the tainted rice wasn’t meant for the Lion at all – they would have simply sold it on had they not discovered that it was tainted.”
Tetsua nodded. “Yes. It is a complicated matter. You see now why I require an investigator.”
“Indeed. How interesting.” Shin tapped his chin with his fan.
“I thought you might it find it to be so.” Tetsua turned away. “I can trust you to remain discrete, of course.”
“Discretion is one of my few virtues.” Shin bowed low. “I will have the answers you seek within a few days.”
“So quickly then?”
“It appears to me that time is our enemy in this matter. Best it was handled quickly.”
“Then I leave it in your capable hands.” Tetsua gestured and Shin, realizing the audience was at an end, rose smoothly to his feet and bowed low.
“As you say, my lord.” With that, he turned and departed.
Kasami was waiting for him outside, trading appraising glances with Azuma. When Shin exited, the Kaeru turned and entered without so much as a farewell. Shin looked after him for a moment, and then turned to Kasami. “Shall we?”
When they reached the wharf, she looked at him. “Well? What did he want?”
“Apparently, we are to investigate a case of sabotage and head off an incipient war.”
Kasami began to laugh.
“Yes, that was my reaction as well. But it is no joke.” Shin frowned. “It’s my grandfather’s hand pulling the strings, of course. The old bastard is determined to keep me from enjoying myself in my exile.”
“Some might say that is the point of an exile.”
“Some should keep their opinions to themselves.” He tapped his lips with his fan. “Still, I wonder what his interest in the matter is. It’s not like him to interfere.”
“You’re overlooking the obvious.”
“Am I? Illuminate me, oh sage.” Shin smiled indulgently at her.
“War here serves no one – especially not the Crane. Any violence in this city risks spreading beyond its walls, as well as damaging long-term trading interests.” Kasami poked him in the chest. “This is your duty, like it or not. Maintaining the balance of things for the good of the clan, and everyone else. That is why the Daidoji Trading Council sent you here.”
Shin made a rude noise. “How boring.” He looked up. The sky was sliding from orange to purple as night came on. The days seemed to pass more quickly in springtime. Perhaps because there was inevitably more to do.
Kasami shook her head. “Despite having a man’s body, you are truly a child.”
“Possibly. I will not deny a certain childish glee at the opportunity. Of late I have become fascinated by a form of investigative technique developed by Agasha Kitsuki.” He snapped open his fan and gave the air an exploratory swipe.
“And how did you find out about this… technique?”
“A… friend of mine told me.” He smiled, lost for a moment in pleasant memories. “Lovely young woman. Keen mind. Quite adept at sadane.”
“A friend.” Kasami snorted. “What was her name?”
“None of your concern. At any rate, I believe that by combining it with a more structured form of ratiocination, as devised by myself, I can perfect the art of investigation.”
Kasami stared at him. “You… devised a form of what?”
“A process of educated reasoning,” Shin explained, airily. “Quite superior to the mere observational method touted by the Kitsuki, in my humble opinion.” He gestured. “Observation alone is not enough. One must align the observed elements correctly in order to assemble the true narrative of the deed. The why is as important as the how. Without the one, the other is impossible to determine.”
Kasami rubbed her face as if suddenly struck by fatigue. “Spent a lot of time thinking of this, have you?”
“Not long, no. In my idle hours, really.”
“Of which you have so many,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Fewer now.” Shin looked at her. “You will help me, of course.”
“Of course.”
“It might be dangerous.”
“Good. I was getting bored. Where do we start?”
“With the scene of the crime. Unfortunately, that means waiting for the Lion to decide whether they wish to eat us first – or afterwards.” Shin paused. They had come to the docks, and he looked out over the water towards the city. Lanterns were being lit all along the wharfs, casting fireflies of light across the water’s surface.
For better or worse, it was his home now. The thought of it being torn apart by internecine conflict was not a pleasant one. Even so, a small pulse of excitement burgeoned within him. Here was something interesting at last.
He snapped his fan closed and looked at Kasami.
<
br /> “Hopefully they will decide quickly.”
•••
Evening fell without grace. The city at night was no lovelier than during the day. Despite this, Nekoma Okuni felt a certain fondness for it. She had always felt more at home in cities. There was something vital about them – an urgency she found invigorating.
Three Duck Street was well named, she thought. It was as much a street as it was a duck. Rather, it was a trash-strewn stretch of alley between two buildings. It was also the halfway point between the Unicorn docks and the Foxfire Theater.
Abandoned crates and pallets crowded the alley, forming natural bulwarks against casual observation. Boarded up windows and doorways lined either side. Light drizzled down from the few open windows, and from a pathetic string of lanterns at the far end of the alley, closest to the theater.
As she waited, Okuni found herself wondering what her mother would say if she could see her now. Nothing good, she suspected. The Nekoma did not often lower themselves to poisoning and blackmail. They were spies and body-doubles, wielding stagecraft the way a samurai might wield a blade. Mostly, Okuni kept to those traditions where she could. But in lean times she found herself taking on whatever jobs came her way.
That Saiga had even found her was proof that she had fallen far from her family’s ideal. A shinobi whose identity was known was often a dead shinobi. But she had to eat, and that meant dealing with individuals of dubious reputation. Sometimes they were even foolish enough to try and cheat her. But never more than once.
A splash at that end of the alley alerted her to the arrival of Saiga’s partner. From her place of concealment she watched him approach. He cursed softly as dirty water splashed the hem of his robe. “Where are you?” he hissed. He sounded nervous. She could understand why. Meeting an unknown person in a darkened alley at dusk was enough to test the resolve of any man not used to skulduggery.
On the whole, she preferred her clients to be nervous. It made negotiations much easier to conduct. She decided to let him stew for a moment, and gave no reply. Instead, she settled back noiselessly and watched him fumble about in the dark.
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