If Hideyoshi had income or hidden savings he could allow anyone to discover, he would have bought them better clothes, if only to ensure that no one knew of his poverty. But his only extravagance was the teahouse. When Hiro added together Yoshiko’s visit, Sayuri’s contract, and the destruction of the ledgers, it had grown clear that the teahouse finances were not what they had seemed.
The moon was low in the sky. The night seemed darker, as always just before dawn. Hiro crept along the veranda and checked the yard for the
d
ō
shin
and his friends. He saw no one. He slipped the metal claws on his wrists and sprinted across the yard. He leaped into the cherry tree without a pause and without concern for the scars his claws would leave on the bark. By the time anyone might notice them, Sayuri and Father Mateo would be free or Nobuhide would be dead and Hiro preparing for seppuku.
He reversed his path across the rooftops as far as the river, where he paused to remove his cowl and claws, untie his cuffs and retrieve his sword. He jumped softly to the ground. Seeing no one, he stepped onto the road and headed for home. He swaggered with a slightly exaggerated roll, like a drunken samurai heading home from indulgences in Pontocho.
He reached Marutamachi Road without incident. As he passed the Okazaki shrine, the tall white torii gate shone brightly in the moonlight and the guardian lion just beyond seemed to grin even wider than usual, as though he knew about Hiro’s successful mission. Hiro grinned back.
“If you do exist,” he murmured, “thanks.”
The statue did not reply.
A robed figure emerged from the shadows on the eastern side of the torii and floated into the road. In the slanting light of the setting moon, the figure looked like a ghost.
“Who are you?” it asked. “Where are you going?”
Hiro swayed slightly but didn’t break character. He stopped and blinked at the figure in the road. “S’night time,” he slurred. He raised a wobbling finger toward the setting moon. “Moon’s up.”
The figure stepped forward again, and the moonlight revealed her as the priestess who sold amulets by the gate.
She laid one hand on her hip and wagged the other accusingly. “You should not be out so late. What will your wife and parents think when you come home drunk at dawn? A samurai should set a better example.”
“Maybe I’m out early.” Hiro spoke with the slightly surprised tone of a drunk who knows he has said something very clever. “D’you think of that?”
“Maybe I can tell you’re drunk, and drunks are only out late, never early.” She sniffed and pointed up the road. “Go home.”
“Trying to,” Hiro mumbled as he wandered past.
He reached the church just before dawn and walked up the side of the house to avoid waking Ana or the others.
Father Mateo knelt before the cross at the far end of the yard.
Hiro stopped and waited beside the koi pond. When the priest finished his prayers, he rose, crossed himself, and turned toward the house. He startled at the sight of Hiro.
“I’m glad you’re back,” he said with relief. “I’d started to wonder if something had gone wrong.”
“No,” Hiro said. “In fact, it went exactly right.”
“Is everyone alive?”
“I can’t speak for all Kyoto,” Hiro said, “but I didn’t kill anyone tonight.”
“Then come inside and tell me where you’ve been. We have some time before we leave for the teahouse.”
“Not enough for talking,” Hiro said. “I need to sleep, and I have a letter to send.”
“At least tell me that you identified the murderer?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Hiro said. “Nobuhide won’t be killing anyone today.”
* * *
Four hours later Hiro and Father Mateo returned to the teahouse. The sun stood high in the sky but it was not quite midday.
Mayuri answered Hiro’s knock. She seemed startled and oddly pleased to see them. She even bowed. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Hiro said. “We have come to see Sayuri.”
“And Nobuhide,” she said, with a hint of sorrow in her voice. “Please come in.”
She escorted them to Sayuri’s room.
“I apologize for my lack of hospitality,” she said, “but I need to leave you alone. I have an important appointment in a few minutes.”
“Of course.” They bowed and Mayuri closed the door.
Father Mateo crossed to Sayuri and asked if she wanted to pray. They bowed their heads together and a moment later Father Mateo’s deep, gentle voice filled the room. Hiro didn’t necessarily believe in any god. He doubted the world had made itself, but he also put little faith in the competing stories people told. This one was an angry god. That one lived in trees.
Hiro was too busy staying alive to sort through them in search of a real one.
Still, Father Mateo’s prayer was soothing on the ear, so Hiro listened as the Jesuit asked his Jesus god to spare Sayuri’s life, and also his own, and if not to grant them entry into His Heaven for all eternity.
About halfway through the prayer Hiro heard the muffled sound of a knock on the teahouse door and female voices talking in the entry. As the women passed through the common room Hiro thought he recognized Yoshiko’s voice. He waited until he heard a door slide closed and then slipped out of Sayuri’s room and down the hall.
He stood outside Mayuri’s office and listened to the conversation within.
“—you for coming,” Mayuri was saying. “Again, I am very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” Yoshiko said.
“I am a little confused about the reason for your visit.”
“I am my father’s heir.”
“Are you seeking restitution for his death? A teahouse owner is not liable for the actions of an assassin.”
“As I told you two nights ago,” Yoshiko said, “one owner is responsible to provide the other owners with reports of profits and expenses.”
When Mayuri did not reply Yoshiko continued. “Don’t put me off any longer. I insist on seeing the ledgers.”
Mayuri tried one more time. “Samurai don’t engage in business.”
“Five years ago my father was assaulted in this teahouse.” Yoshiko’s voice would have melted steel. “He did not drag you before the magistrate or cut off your miserable head because you offered him a percentage in lieu of restitution or revenge. You can either accept me as your partner now, this minute, or we will see how the magistrate feels about your unfortunate lack of memory.”
Before Mayuri could answer, a loud bang echoed through the house.
Chapter 42
The front door of the teahouse banged again as Nobuhide’s voice yelled, “Mayuri!”
Hiro barely had time to race across the common room and duck through the door of Sayuri’s room before footsteps scurried through the house and Mayuri’s voice called, “Just a moment.”
Hiro was impressed. It took a lot to make an entertainer forget her training. Entertainers never yelled and Mayuri’s feet never made a sound before.
Yoshiko’s heavier footsteps followed Mayuri’s across the common room. Hiro pushed the door open just a crack to listen. Behind him, Father Mateo’s prayers stopped. Hiro suspected the priest and Sayuri were listening too.
“What do you want?” Mayuri’s voice revealed her irritation. “Why are you yelling?”
“I have found my father’s murderer!” Nobuhide said.
“Nobuhide?” Hidetaro’s voice echoed through the house. “Yoshiko? Why are you here?”
“Hidetaro!” Yoshiko exclaimed, “I could ask the same of you.”
Hiro smiled. The messenger must have delivered his letter precisely as requested, and Hidetaro had shown up right on time.
“I…” Hidetaro paused. “I came to see Sayuri.”
“How convenient,” Nobuhide said. “Shall we go together?”
Footsteps approached the door to Sayuri’s room. Hiro backed up several steps and placed himself between Father Mateo and the door. Behind him, he heard someone stand up. The rattle of a scabbard told him it was the Jesuit and not Sayuri.
The door slid open. Nobuhide stalked into the room, followed by his sister, Mayuri, and a very confused Hidetaro. Nobuhide remained by the door, but the other three walked farther into the room.
Nobuhide startled at the sight of the priest. Apparently, he expected the Jesuit to run.
He pointed at Hiro. “You stand by the outer door. I don’t want the murderer escaping.”
“Father Mateo and Sayuri go with me,” Hiro said. “I will not stand on the opposite side of the room.”
Nobuhide pointed to the tokonoma. “Let them stand there, between us.”
Hiro considered the distance from Nobuhide to the alcove. The
yoriki
would have to circumvent the hearth to reach the priest, but Hiro had no obstacle in his path. From the perspective of defense, it represented a better position than the one Hiro currently held.
The shinobi nodded.
Father Mateo and Sayuri walked to the tokonoma as Hiro took up a position before the veranda door.
“I didn’t need your help to find the murderer.” Nobuhide sneered. “I solved the crime myself, though you were correct that Sayuri was not to blame. I should have known a whore didn’t have the intelligence or the strength to kill my father.”
“Don’t. Call her. A whore.” Hidetaro’s words came out as separate sentences. His hand rested on the hilt of his katana.
“Did you come to plead for her life?” Nobuhide asked.
“My business is none of yours,” Hidetaro said.
Father Mateo changed the subject. “How did you identify the murderer?”
A superior look came over Nobuhide’s face. “It was simple for me, because I am samurai and you are not.”
“Would you mind sharing your discovery with us?” Hiro asked.
Nobuhide removed a small leather bag from his kimono. He held it high.
“This is the weapon that murdered my father. A shinobi weapon, though he was not killed by an assassin. He was murdered by someone who knew him well. Someone who had everything to gain by his death, and who used my father’s own weapon to take his life!”
Nobuhide opened the bag and pulled out three of the
neko-te
finger sheaths. One had no blade in it.
“The murderer stole the weapon from our home the night my father died, used it to kill him, and sneaked it back to the house the following day. No one noticed because the pieces had fallen on the floor, thanks to my Uncle Hidetaro’s shocking lack of gratitude and discipline.” Nobuhide paused. “He threw away a dagger my father gave him as a gift. A fine way to repay our generosity.”
Hidetaro clenched his fists at his sides. He took a deep breath and relaxed them. Hiro noted both movements with relief. He suspected a fight was about to happen, but he didn’t want Hidetaro to begin it.
“I noticed the missing
neko-te
when I returned home with the body,” Nobuhide continued. “They returned to their places later that morning, but one of the blades was broken and out of place. When I saw it, I remembered that there was a broken blade in my father’s chest when I brought him home. I checked beneath his armor but the blade was gone. The killer had replaced it, and also the other
neko-te,
hoping no one would notice.”
“You realize this means Sayuri is innocent,” Father Mateo said.
Nobuhide nodded. “Indeed. I absolve her of all responsibility for the crime, and you as well, as soon as the real murderer pays the penalty for this crime.”
“Who is the real murderer?” Hiro asked.
“A member of my own family.” Nobuhide reveled in the moment.
Hiro wished he would get on with it.
“My father was killed by someone he knew and trusted!”
“That is why he did not fight,” Yoshiko confirmed.
“We agree on that,” Hiro said. “The question is—”
“I ask the questions,” Nobuhide snapped, “and there is no need to ask. I already know.”
“Then tell us.”
Chapter 43
Nobuhide pointed at his sister. “Yoshiko killed our father.”
Yoshiko’s hand flew to the hilt of her sword. “That is a lie!”
“It is the truth!” Nobuhide crowed. “You killed him and you deserve to die.”
Hidetaro took half a step backward. Mayuri paled and covered her mouth with her hands. Father Mateo took half a step to his right to shield Sayuri with his body.
“Who stands to gain from our father’s death?” Nobuhide demanded. “You! You are his heir, and you knew it. You knew about the will and what it said, and you killed him to get control of the family fortune.”
“There is no fortune,” Yoshiko said, “and I was at home with Mother the night Father died.”
“You were not at home,” Nobuhide said. “Your shoes were covered in mud the following morning. You were out that night, after midnight, in the rain.”
Yoshiko looked at the floor. “You’re right, I was not at home.” She looked up. “But I did not kill him. After you and Father argued with Hidetaro, I worried that Uncle might do something rash. When two men want the same woman, you cannot depend on either to act wisely.”