Assassin's Touch (31 page)

“So you say,” Ozuno retorted. “You’re a total stranger. I know nothing of you except what I see, and I see that you are rash and impertinent.”

“My character is good,” Hirata said, anxious to convince. “The chamberlain and the shogun will vouch for me.”

“That you brag about yourself is a sign of a conceited nature,” Ozuno said scornfully. “Besides, you’re too old. Your personality is set. We always choose boys, whom we can mold to our way of life.”

“But I have combat skills and experience that boys don’t have. I have a head start on them.”

“More likely you’ve learned so many mistakes that it would take years to retrain you.”

Hirata was frantic not to let this opportunity slip away. “Please,” he said, struggling to his feet and grabbing Ozuno’s arm, “I need you to teach me. You’re my only hope that I’ll ever be able to fight again. Unless I learn your secrets, I’ll always be helpless, a target for attacks, the object of everyone’s scorn.” He flung his arms wide, the better for Ozuno to see the crippled wreckage of his body. On the verge of tears, ashamed to beg, he said, “I’ll fail in my duty to my master and my lord. Unless you help me, I’ll lose my honor as well as my livelihood!”

Ozuno regarded him with merciless contempt. “You want knowledge for the wrong reasons. You want to learn a few techniques, win fights, satisfy your pride, and gain material rewards, rather than honor and preserve our ancient traditions. Your needs are no concern of mine. They certainly don’t qualify you to enter our society.” He waved his hand impatiently. “But this discussion is pointless. Even if you were the ideal candidate, I could not train you. I swore off teaching when Kobori went bad. Never again will I risk creating another amoral killer.”

Although the priest’s tone said his decision was final, Hirata was too desperate to give up. “But fate brought me to you,” he cried. “You’re meant to be my teacher. It’s our destiny!”

“Destiny, eh?” Ozuno laughed with sardonic ill humor. “Well, if it is, I suppose I can’t escape it. I’ll make you a deal: If we should meet again, we’ll begin your lessons.”

“Fine,” Hirata said. Edo was small enough that he was sure to see the priest again.

Ozuno sneered as he read Hirata’s thoughts. He said, “Not if I see you first,” then limped out of the cemetery. In the road, he merged with a flock of pilgrims and vanished.

28

Reiko knocked on the gate outside the mansion where Yugao’s friend Tama worked. A woman with gray hair and a cross face opened it and said, “Yes?”

“I want to see Tama,” Reiko said, so urgently that her voice trembled.

“You mean the kitchen maid?” Curiosity sharpened the woman’s gaze. “Who are you?” After Reiko introduced herself, the woman said, “Tama isn’t here.”

Reiko almost wept with disappointment. If Sano was doomed to die soon, finding Yugao might be the last thing she could do for him. “Where is Tama?”

“The cook sent her to the fish market. I’m the housekeeper. Can I help you?”

“I don’t think so. When will Tama be back?” As she realized that she would never be able to find the girl in the huge, crowded fish market, Reiko tried to stay calm. Falling apart wouldn’t help Sano.

“Oh, she’ll probably be gone for hours,” the housekeeper said, studying Reiko with avid interest. “Why are you so eager to see her? What’s she done?”

“Maybe nothing,” Reiko said. Her hunch that Tama had withheld important information from her yesterday might be mere wishful thinking. Yet Reiko couldn’t give up; Tama was her only lead to Yugao. “On second thought, maybe you can help me. Have you noticed anything strange about Tama recently?”

The housekeeper frowned in thought, then said, “As a matter of fact I have. The day before yesterday, she left the house without permission. The mistress scolded her and beat her. That’s not like Tama. Usually she’s such a meek, obedient little thing, never breaks any rules.”

Reiko cautioned herself against hoping too much. “Why did Tama leave?”

“It was because of that girl who came to see her.”

“What girl?” Reiko held her breath as her hope ran wild and her heart began to race.

“She said her name was Yugao.”

Such glad relief overwhelmed Reiko that the breath rushed out of her; she clutched the gatepost for support. “Tell me everything that happened when Yugao came! It’s very important!”

“Well, she showed up at the back gate,” the housekeeper said, clearly enjoying Reiko’s attention and wanting to draw out her story. “She asked for Tama. When I asked who she was, she wouldn’t tell me anything except her name and that she was an old friend of Tama’s. The servants aren’t supposed to have visitors, but I feel sorry for Tama because she’s alone in the world, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to let her see a friend just once. So I fetched Tama.

“At first she was so happy to see Yugao. She hugged her and cried and said how much she’d missed her. But then they started talking. Tama started to look worried.”

“What did they say?” Reiko clenched her fingernails into her palms.

“I don’t know what Yugao said. She was whispering. Tama said, ‘No. I can’t. I’ll get in trouble.’ ”

Now Reiko understood why Tama had acted so upset when Reiko had told her that her childhood friend was a murderess and fugitive. Yugao must have invented some other story to explain why she’d turned up needing help from Tama.

“But Yugao kept talking,” the housekeeper said, “and she wore Tama down. Finally Tama said, ‘All right. Come with me.’ They ran off together.”

“Was there a man with them?” Reiko asked eagerly.

“Not that I saw.”

Yet Reiko felt certain that the Ghost had been lurking somewhere in their vicinity. When he and Yugao had left the Jade Pavilion, they’d needed another place to hide. She must have thought of Tama, the one person who might be persuaded to do her a favor. And Reiko was just as certain that Yugao wouldn’t have abandoned the man she’d loved so obsessively.

The housekeeper leaned close to Reiko and whispered, “I didn’t tell the mistress that Tama stole a basket of food from the pantry before they left.”

“Where did they go?” Reiko demanded.

“I don’t know. When Tama got home, I asked her, but she wouldn’t tell me.”

“How long was she gone?”

“Let me think.” The housekeeper tapped her finger against her withered cheek. “It was near dark when she left. She barely made it back before the neighborhood gates closed.”

Reiko’s hopes plunged; Tama could have covered a considerable distance, even on foot and weighed down with provisions, between early evening and late night. That left an appallingly wide area to search for the place where Tama had hidden Yugao and the Ghost.

“Thank you for your help,” Reiko said, turning to leave.

“Shall I tell Tama you were here?” the housekeeper said. “Shall I tell her you’ll come back?”

Need begot inspiration. Reiko thought of the food Tama had stolen, and a new strategy kindled her hopes. “No,” she called as she hurried toward her palanquin and guards, “please don’t tell Tama.”

But she would be back. And then she would discover exactly where Yugao and the Ghost were hiding.

Sano stopped at
metsuke
headquarters for the dossier on Kobori; it included his approximate height and weight and a poorly drawn sketch of his face. After visiting General Isogai, from whom he commandeered army troops to serve as search teams, Sano rushed to the palace.

The instant he walked into the audience chamber, he knew he was in even more trouble than he’d expected. Lord Matsudaira, seated in his customary place, wore such a fierce scowl that he resembled a carved demon in a temple. Above him on the dais, the shogun cowered, frightened and baffled. Yoritomo, who sat beside the shogun, aimed a warning glance at Sano. The guards stationed along the walls stood perfectly still, gazing straight ahead, as though afraid to move. The elders were absent. In their place on the raised floor sat Police Commissioner Hoshina, who regarded Sano with cool, half-smiling composure.

Sano’s steps faltered at the sight of his enemy. As he knelt below the dais at the shogun’s left and bowed, Lord Matsudaira demanded, “What in hell took you so long?”

“I had urgent business to attend to,” Sano said even though he knew that no excuse was good enough for Lord Matsudaira. What had happened in less than two days to sink him in Lord Matsudaira’s esteem and raise Hoshina? Sano doubted that it was only because Lord Matsudaira had heard about his failed attempt to capture the Ghost last night; after all, Hoshina hadn’t done any better. “A thousand apologies.”

“It’ll take more than a thousand to excuse you,” Lord Matsudaira said, his fury mounting. “Do I understand correctly that you assigned hundreds of army troops to escort duty?”

“Yes,” Sano admitted. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hoshina enjoying his discomfiture. “With an assassin at large and the officials afraid to leave home, it seemed the only way to keep the government running.”

The shogun nodded in timid agreement, but Lord Matsudaira ignored him and said, “Well, it’s obvious that you didn’t stop to think that security would be drastically reduced after you pulled those men from their regular posts. While they were playing nursemaid to a bunch of cowards, who was supposed to keep order in the city?” His complexion was so livid with rage that he looked ready to burst a blood vessel. “Do you think we have an unlimited supply of troops?”

“I’ve sent for more from the provinces,” Sano said in a futile attempt to defend himself. Yoritomo wrung his hands. “I’ve ordered the
daimyo
to lend their retainers to patrol the streets.”

“Oh, you did, did you? And do you know what’s happened in the meantime?” Lord Matsudaira surged to his feet, unable to contain his temper. “While I was riding through town this morning, I was ambushed by a band of rebel outlaws. My bodyguards were outnumbered. There wasn’t a soldier in sight.”

Sano stared, speechless with alarm that he’d inadvertently endangered Lord Matsudaira.

“Fortunately, Police Commissioner Hoshina and his men happened to come along, and they fought off the rebels,” Lord Matsudaira said. “If they hadn’t, I would be dead now.”

Sano turned his astonished gaze on Hoshina, who flashed him a grin of triumph.

“How convenient for you,” Sano said. He wouldn’t be surprised if Hoshina himself had arranged the attack, with the aim of rescuing Lord Matsudaira and making him so grateful that he was willing to forgive Hoshina any errors.

“Yes, it was convenient.” Hoshina’s eyes sparkled with malicious amusement. “All the outlaws were killed in the fight, in case you were wondering.”

Which meant that they couldn’t reveal whether Hoshina had hired them, Sano realized. Hoshina was safe. He’d taken advantage of all the misfortune that Sano had suffered during this investigation.

“I heard that this morning you commandeered more troops, Chamberlain Sano,” Lord Matsudaira said, ignoring the exchange between Sano and Hoshina. “What in hell do you need them for? Why would you worsen your stupid, dangerous mistake?”

“I need them to search for the assassin you ordered me to capture.” Growing angry at Lord Matsudaira’s insulting treatment, Sano heard the edge in his own voice. How else could he have protected the officials? “I know who he is now. His name is Kobori. He belonged to my predecessor’s elite squadron. To run him to ground, I need more manpower besides my own personal troops.”

The news that Sano had identified the Ghost startled Lord Matsudaira into silence and wiped the scowl off his face. Yoritomo gave Sano a relieved, delighted smile.

“So you’ve, ahh, solved the mystery.” The shogun beamed at Sano. He cast a smug glance at Lord Matsudaira, clearly gratified that Sano had scored a point against his cousin, even if he didn’t understand what was going on. “My congratulations to you.”

“Don’t believe him, Your Excellency,” Hoshina said quickly. “It may not be true that this man Kobori is the assassin. Remember that Chamberlain Sano thought it was Captain Nakai, who proved to be innocent. He could be wrong again.” Hoshina appealed to Lord Matsudaira. “I think he’s so desperate to please you that he’s trying to pin the murders on someone who’s probably dead.”

“Kobori’s alive,” Sano countered. “I can place him in Edo as recently as two days ago. Last night I raided the inn where he’s been hiding. I only just missed him. He’d skipped out the day before.”

“What proof do you have that he’s the assassin?” Lord Matsudaira looked torn between skepticism and his wish to believe that the capture of the Ghost was imminent.

Sano described the events at the Jade Pavilion.

“Well, even if Kobori is the assassin, you let him get away,” Hoshina said, anxious to discredit Sano. “He could have left Edo by now. Honorable Lord Matsudaira, why send troops to search the stable after the horse is already out? We need them to maintain security and hunt down rebel outlaws.”

“We can’t assume that Kobori is gone just because you want to believe it,” Sano said. “And he’s a more important target than the other rebel outlaws.”

Hoshina laughed in scorn. “They’ve killed a lot more people than he has.”

“But he’s aiming at the regime’s top echelon,” Sano said. “Let me remind you that he’s already assassinated five high-ranking officials. Unless we concentrate on catching him, he’ll chip away at us until morale is so weak that the regime falls. We need to catch him before he kills again.”

He felt the mark of death upon himself. Involuntary flinches twitched his body, as if telltale bruises were cropping up all over his skin. His head ached, and he wondered if his brain had started bleeding. The uncertainty and waiting were so difficult to bear, he almost wished he knew for sure that Kobori had touched him. But if he should die tomorrow, who would protect the regime from men like Hoshina, so driven by their own ambitions that they would let a deadly force like Kobori run free?

“Someone in this room could be his next victim.” Sano appealed to Lord Matsudaira’s and the shogun’s self-interest. “Let me borrow the troops for two more days. That should be enough time to catch Kobori.”

“I think that sounds like a, ahh, good compromise,” the shogun said, eager to end the quarreling.