Blade of the Samurai: A Shinobi Mystery (Shinobi Mysteries) (26 page)

The samurai hurried out of the yard, tripping over his sandals in the process. He righted himself and hustled away.

Kazu watched him go. When he was certain the guard had departed he gestured to Hiro and crossed the yard to the storehouse.

Hiro met him there. They slid back the bar and opened the door but saw only darkness within.

“Masao,” Hiro whispered, “It’s me, Matsui Hiro.”

Masao’s face appeared in the darkened doorway. A layer of rice dust grayed his clothes and hair.

“Matsui-
san
?” The stable master looked confused. “I don’t understand…”

“We know you are not the killer,” Hiro said. “We’ve come to free you.”

Masao backed away from the door. “No … no samurai frees a commoner. It’s a trap.”

“It will be, if you don’t get out here right this second,” Kazu hissed. “We’re not waiting around while you make up your mind.”

Masao’s face appeared again. “Ito
-san
?” His face went slack as he took in Hiro’s baggy trousers and darkened coat. His eyes widened with fear and recognition.

Most Japanese had heard of shinobi, but few expected to see one.

“We have to go,” Hiro said. “You’re not our only errand here this evening, and time is short. If we get you out of the compound, can you hide until the city gates open tomorrow?”

“I can.” Masao stepped out of the storehouse and glanced toward the kitchen building. “But I can do better than that. There’s a path through the compound that leads to a hidden exit near the stable. The previous stable master showed me the place. If the shogun is ever in danger and has to escape, I’m supposed to meet him there with his fastest horse.”

“Is the exit locked?” Hiro asked.

Masao smiled. “Of course, but I know how to open it.” He bowed to Hiro and then to Kazu. “Thank you for helping me. I owe you my life.”

As the stable master hurried off into the darkness, Hiro closed the storehouse and slid the lever back across the door.

He turned to Kazu. “Let’s get that ledger and clear the wall before anyone knows we’re here.”

*   *   *

Stone lanterns burned in the yard between the kitchen and the northern entrance to the
bakufu
mansion. More lanterns ringed the mansion itself, their flickering glow creating overlapping pools of light intended to foil the stealthy approach of thieves or shinobi assassins.

Fortunately, Hiro had no intention of sneaking anywhere. He walked across the yard and into the mansion as if he, not Kazu, had worked there for several years.

Kazu followed with silent strides.

For once, they didn’t bother to remove their shoes before going inside. Hiro had no intention of needing to leave the way they came.

They entered the mansion and made their way to the outer office where Kazu worked. Light flickered through the hallway from the reception room where the carpenters had been working. Hiro paused and listened, but heard nothing. Ozuru must have been sent away with the others.

As he laid his hand on the door to Kazu’s office, a tapping echoed through the hall. He looked over his shoulder. “Is that a chisel?”

Kazu nodded. “Sounds like Ozuru is working late.”

That seemed odd, since the carpenter claimed he couldn’t stay after sunset anymore.

The door to Kazu’s office slid open with barely a sound, releasing a wave of parchment-scented air into the hall. The smell of the new tatami and the piles of ledgers had long since overpowered the smell of death. Not even Hiro’s sensitive nose could catch a trace of the crime in the air.

Kazu grasped a pair of tongs from the charcoal bucket by the door and stirred the coals in the brazier near the entrance. The coals returned to life with a puff of sparks and a few small licks of flame. Hiro slid the shoji closed behind them as Kazu added charcoal to the fire.

“Wait here,” Kazu said, and walked off into Saburo’s inner office. He reappeared in the doorway a moment later, holding a ledger. “This is the one you want.”

Behind him, a shadow moved.

Akira stepped into the light and laid a dagger at the base of Kazu’s neck. His eyes were locked on Hiro. “If you yell—if you even move—I’ll kill him.”

Chapter 50

“You’re going to kill him anyway,” Hiro said. “It’s in your plan—or was, when you believed he’d return alone. Now that I’m here, you can’t afford to kill him.”

Akira narrowed his eyes. “I could kill him right now if I wanted to.”

“And then I’d kill you,” Hiro said. “See the problem? You need him if you want to stay alive.”

“Is that Akira?” Kazu tried to see behind him but stopped as Akira pressed the blade against his flesh. “What are you doing here?”

“He came to plant evidence that will implicate you in Saburo’s plot,” Hiro said, “and he probably intended to murder you too. I thought he would have left, since you went to Ginjiro’s.”

Akira sneered. “I knew he’d be back. He left a fire in the brazier.”

“Not intentionally.” Kazu sounded remarkably conversational, given the knife at his neck.

Hiro recognized the tactic. The moment Akira lowered his guard, Kazu would try to disarm him.

Akira looked at Hiro. “I didn’t expect you to come back with him. This works even better than what I originally planned.”

“You’ll claim you found me standing over his corpse with a knife in my hand,” Hiro said. “You’ll kill us both and call it a ‘conspirators’ argument ending in murder.’ Believable, as far as it goes, but even if you survive to try it, how will you explain the shogun’s death if everyone in the conspiracy is either dead or captured?”

“What are you talking about?” Kazu asked.

Hiro looked at Akira. “Would you like to tell him, or shall I?”

“Go ahead.” Akira smiled smugly. “You seem to have everything figured out. But before you do, both of you drop your swords to the floor. And don’t try anything foolish. I’ll kill this man before you can strike, and then I’ll kill you too. A ronin translator is no match for a trained Miyoshi swordsman.”

“If you say so,” Hiro said. “Kazu, drop your swords.”

Kazu narrowed his eyes in displeasure but eased his katana from its scabbard and dropped it to the floor. His
wakizashi
followed a moment later.

Akira kicked the swords out of reach and nodded at Hiro. “Your turn, and slide them away. I don’t want them where you think you can retrieve them.”

Hiro took off his swords and lowered them to the matting. After a moment’s hesitation he pushed the weapons out of reach. They slid across the room and came to rest against the veranda door.

“Stand up,” Akira said, “and keep your hands where I can see them.”

Hiro obliged.

Akira nodded. “Now, let’s hear you tell your tale.”

“You should kill us now,” Hiro said. “If you don’t, I’m going to kill you.”

Akira laughed. “Not likely. In a few hours I will be shogun and you will be dead.”

“If you say so,” Hiro said, “but you’re mistaken.”

“Talk,” Akira said, “before I get bored and kill you like the others.”

“He’s the killer?” Kazu asked. “I thought it was Hisahide.”

“It had to be one or the other,” Hiro said, “though I didn’t think Hisahide would kill Netsuko. He’s too professional for that.”

“She suspected me,” Akira said. “She had to die.”

“Actually, she didn’t,” Hiro said. “She suspected the mistress.”

“Jun?” Akira sneered. “Impossible. Netsuko would have said so before she died. All she did was beg for the life of her son.”

“Saburo was plotting with the Miyoshi?” Kazu shook his head a little—as much as the knife allowed. “That isn’t possible. He hated the Miyoshi daimyo—and his heirs.”

“Saburo knew nothing about the plot to murder the shogun,” Hiro said. “The letter was a diversion, no doubt written after his death to distract the shogun from the real plot. That’s why you didn’t find it until the morning after the crime.”

“Correct,” Akira said. “I wrote it and left it in his office. I knew about the letter box all along. We needed permission to increase the number of Miyoshi guards in the compound, to dilute the shogun’s forces with samurai under our control. Nine-tenths of the men on duty tonight are loyal to the Miyoshi. The letter made that possible.”

“You’re seizing the shogunate now?” Kazu asked. “On the night before Lord Oda’s men arrive?”

“Lord Oda never sent any men to Kyoto,” Hiro said, “the ambassadors were a clever ploy to distract the shogun’s attention from the traitors within his walls.”

“How did you know?” Akira asked. “Everyone else believed it.”

“Blame the merchant,” Hiro said, “the Portuguese. He checked at
Ō
tsu. The innkeeper there knew nothing of the embassy, but official delegations always send a man ahead to ensure the inn has rooms available. No messenger making reservations, no delegation from Oda.

“I think Saburo discovered it too—that’s why you killed him.”

“A mistake at last!” Akira gloated. “Saburo was an ignorant fool. He had no idea about our plans. In fact, he’d still be alive if he hadn’t walked in on me copying from his ledger.

“I needed to know which men he assigned for duty tonight, and how many, so we could plan the final attack. I sneaked in here to check the ledger, but as it happened Saburo hadn’t left. He was locked in an embrace with that ugly maid.

“They didn’t see me, so I hid in the shadows and waited for them to finish.”

“But Jun saw you when she left,” Hiro said. “That’s why she claimed Masao was here. She saw your silhouette, and Den’s. She recognized him but mistook you for the stable master.”

Akira nodded. “Den was just outside the door. I saw him arrive, though I didn’t know the girl had seen me too. After everyone left I sneaked back into the office to get the ledger. But Saburo returned before I finished with it.

“I pretended I was looking for Ito Kazu and tried to leave. If he had let me, I might have let him live. But he followed me into this outer office, accusing me of stealing. He called me names.” Akira scowled. “No one insults Miyoshi Akira and lives.”

“So you took the dagger off my desk and killed him,” Kazu said.

“You wouldn’t expect me to use my own,” Akira said. “I moved so quickly he barely had the chance to raise his hand in self-defense. He never even tried to draw his sword.”

“But covering your tracks proved more difficult than you expected,” Hiro said, “especially when Hisahide didn’t believe that Kazu was to blame.”

“Wait,” Kazu said. “I thought Hisahide was part of the plot.”

Hiro shook his head. “Against the shogun, yes, but I don’t think he sanctioned Saburo’s murder, or Den’s, or Lady Netsuko’s either. Killings would put the compound on alert and make seizure of the shogunate more difficult. Akira had to invent the letter, and Saburo’s plot, to keep Hisahide from learning the truth—that Akira made a mistake.”

“He didn’t suspect anything until you pointed out that Kazu wouldn’t have used his own dagger,” Akira said. “Then I had to explain what really happened. Fortunately, he considered Saburo’s death an accidental boon. It gave us an excuse to move more of our men inside the shogunate.”

“You must have been relieved to learn Masao sent Den away,” Hiro said. “So the stable boy couldn’t accuse you either. He saw you do it, didn’t he?”

“Not the murder,” Akira said, “although I think he guessed. Thank you for finding him for me and for giving me an excuse to bring him back.”

“How did you get the opium into the tea?” Hiro asked.

“When we returned from
Ō
tsu, I told Jun to take some food and tea to the stable. I even gave her permission to add some sweetener. I checked the pot on a pretense of making sure the water was hot enough. It was. For tea, and also for dissolving opium.”

“I’m guessing you intended to kill Masao as well as Den,” Hiro said. “A double suicide, no questions asked.”

“I don’t know why it didn’t,” Akira said, “I used enough.”

“Masao didn’t drink it,” Hiro said. “But you didn’t know that, so you doubled the dose for Netsuko. Did you stay to watch her die?”

“I’ve explained enough,” Akira snapped.

“Why stop now? We’re almost finished,” Hiro said.

“We’re finished now.” Akira tilted the dagger.

A bead of blood appeared on Kazu’s neck.

Chapter 51

“Hiro,” Kazu said, “quit helping.”

Hiro kept his eyes on Akira. “You killed Netsuko and Den for nothing. They didn’t know you murdered Saburo. Netsuko even believed Den wrote the suicide message in the stable. Good thing you knew the boy could write.”

“I found out on the way back from
Ō
tsu, in order to arrange the scene,” Akira said. “And I only did what I had to do. I saw a problem and solved it—the way a shogun would.”

“Not even a shogun has license to murder the innocent without cause,” Hiro said.

“No ronin understands what it means to be shogun,” Akira said. “By morning, all of Japan will answer to me.”

“You really think Hisahide will make you shogun?” Hiro laughed. “By morning, you’ll be dead. I guarantee it.”

“Do not laugh!” Akira snapped. “Matsunaga Hisahide is a Miyoshi retainer, a glorified servant. He has no claim to the shogunate.”

“Curious that you feel the need to say so,” Hiro said. “If Hisahide seizes the shogun’s compound and gains control of Kyoto, some people might think his claim to the shogunate rather strong.”

“Including the emperor,” Kazu said.

“Even the emperor answers to the shogun.” Akira looked down his nose at Hiro. “And Hisahide remembers who pays his salary.”

“Not you,” Hiro said. “If Hisahide kills the shogun, he’ll kill you too.”

Uncertainty flickered across Akira’s face. “That’s not true. You just want me to let down my guard so you can escape.”

The door behind Hiro rattled open.

Akira startled. He jabbed Kazu’s neck with the dagger.

It was the opening Hiro needed. He pulled the
shuriken
from his tunic and leaped across the room. As he landed, his free hand knocked the dagger away from Kazu’s throat. His other hand drove the sharpened point of his star-shaped weapon through Akira’s eye.