Claws of the Cat (23 page)

That didn’t keep him from hoping his instincts were wrong, and that Hidetaro really did kill Hideyoshi. Because if Hidetaro wasn’t guilty, Hiro had less than eighteen hours to learn who did. And despite Hidetaro’s noble offer to take Sayuri’s place, Hiro was not convinced that Nobuhide would accept his uncle’s claims of responsibility.

In fact, he found it more likely that Hidetaro’s “confession” would trigger the very executions the noble gesture was intended to prevent.

Chapter 34

“Tell us how you killed Hideyoshi,” Hiro said.

Father Mateo glared. “Can’t you tell he only confessed to save Sayuri’s life?”

“If he wants to take the blame he can explain how he committed the crime.” Hiro looked at Hidetaro. “Or, if he wants us to find the real murderer, he can explain what really happened the night his brother died.”

Hidetaro breathed in and out at a measured pace that Hiro recognized as a Zen technique for reducing stress and clearing a cluttered mind. The samurai did not fidget, or even move, but the breathing revealed his internal conflict.

Hiro gave him time to make up his mind.

At last Hidetaro nodded. “I will help you for the remainder of today. Tomorrow, if you have not found the killer, I will confess in order to save Sayuri’s life.”

“You love her enough to die for her?” Hiro wondered what that felt like.

“All men die,” Hidetaro said, “most, for no valid reason. At least this death will not be meaningless.”

“But you may not need to die at all,” Father Mateo said. “Tell us what happened the night your brother died.”

“That story begins earlier in the day,” Hidetaro said. “The day before yesterday, in the morning, I visited the Sakura Teahouse to make a payment on Sayuri’s contract. It was the middle day of the month, and I always made my payments on the middle day and the last day.”

He gave an embarrassed smile, like a little boy caught in a lie. “I originally told you that I made that payment the morning my brother died, which wasn’t true, though I did go to the teahouse that morning. Mayuri told me about the murder—though it wasn’t Mayuri I expected to see.”

He paused. “It’s better if I continue in proper order.

“On the morning before Hideyoshi died I went to the teahouse to make a payment. Mayuri would not accept my silver. She said another man had offered a much larger sum for patronage alone. Mayuri intended to keep the girl in the teahouse after all.

“I demanded to know the patron’s identity and the amount he had offered to pay. She named an astronomical sum—a thousand gold koban.”

Hiro’s eyes widened in surprise. Father Mateo looked confused, so Hiro explained. “One koban is the equivalent of three koku of rice. A thousand koban would feed an army for a year.”

“Mayuri had to be lying,” Hidetaro said. “No man would pay so much for a woman’s favors.”

“I agree,” Hiro said, “but why would Mayuri lie?”

“I think she needed to make the sum so high that I couldn’t match it. Even so, I decided I had to try. I spent the day meditating in order to crush my pride, and in the evening I went to see Yoshi. We spoke in private, in his personal armory. I knelt before him and asked him to buy Sayuri’s contract for me. I swore that if he granted this request I would never ask him for anything again, not even a grain of rice.”

“But Hideyoshi didn’t have that kind of wealth,” Father Mateo said.

Hidetaro drew back in surprise. “He must have had it. He was the patron whose name Mayuri wouldn’t mention.”

“How did you learn that?” Hiro asked.

“Yoshi didn’t just deny my request for help. He laughed in my face and called me a fool for falling in love with a prostitute.

“That was his word,” Hidetaro added quickly, “not ever mine.”

Father Mateo nodded in understanding as the samurai continued. “Yoshi told me he had bought Sayuri’s favors for himself. He said he would think of me when he deflowered her.”

Hidetaro’s fists clenched at his sides. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing again. He did not speak until his demeanor and voice were calm.

“When Yoshi finished laughing he handed me a dagger from his collection. He suggested I use it to commit seppuku, since it was the last thing I would ever receive from his hand.”

“Did you find a better use for it than ritual suicide?” Hiro asked.

“I wanted to, and if Yoshi were not my brother I would have killed him on the spot, but I didn’t. I threw the knife away as hard as I could.

“It struck the tokonoma and knocked over the display.” Hidetaro gave a bitter laugh at the memory. “The
neko-te
flew everywhere and the
tessen
fell to the floor. Yoshi started cursing and I heard Nobuhide laugh, but I left the room and didn’t look back.”

“Nobuhide saw you throw the knife?” Hiro asked.

Hidetaro nodded. “He came into the room to ridicule me about my choice of wife. He must have overheard.”

The conversation lagged for a moment. Hiro waited for the samurai to continue, but decided not to prompt. He wanted to know where Hidetaro would pick up the tale.

“On the way home I thought about killing Yoshi. I wanted to, and almost decided to, but then I had a better idea, one that would give me Sayuri and revenge on Yoshi too.” He smiled. “I would persuade Sayuri to run away with me.”

“With no money?” Hiro asked.

Hidetaro shrugged. “I have a shogunate travel pass, a permanent one from my courier days. There are plenty of daimyo in need of retainers, and I suspect you already know how easily a ronin can find work if his pride doesn’t get in the way.

“No offense intended.”

Hiro nodded. “None taken. Please continue.”

“I waited at home until dark and went to the teahouse. I sneaked around the veranda to Sayuri’s room, but Hideyoshi had already arrived. I listened to them from the shadows and waited for an opportunity.

“Twice I had to hide around the corner while Hideyoshi went to the latrine. I considered approaching Sayuri then, but I couldn’t risk Yoshi catching us before we could get away.

“As the evening grew late, Hideyoshi got drunk and tried to persuade Sayuri to undress. It didn’t take her long to understand what he had in mind. She sounded frightened—I almost ran into the room and killed him after all.

“If he had forced himself on her I would have.”

Hidetaro fell silent. Father Mateo opened his mouth to speak but caught himself and said nothing.

A moment later Hidetaro continued. “I heard Sayuri mention the latrine, so I ran into the yard and hid behind the latrine to wait, but she didn’t come outside for several minutes.”

That matched Hiro’s understanding of the events. Sayuri spoke with Mayuri before visiting the latrine.

“When she finally arrived, I revealed myself and asked her to run away with me.”

“But she refused to go,” Hiro said.

“Actually, she said she would, but she was afraid of Yoshi. She was terrified that he would follow us and kill us. She also said that Yoshi claimed to own her contract already. I told her that wasn’t true, and a magistrate would uphold my claim because I had been making payments for several months. I told her I would see Mayuri immediately and force her to accept my claim.”

“You knew she wouldn’t,” Hiro said.

“It was late. Sayuri was crying. I had to do something. Sayuri wouldn’t let me talk with Mayuri. She said she had already tried, to no avail. But then she said something very strange. She said that Yoshi claimed he could have any girl in the Sakura, any time, and as often as he wanted.”

“If Sayuri was so scared, why didn’t she leave with you?” Hiro asked.

“She was afraid Yoshi would sound the alarm and catch us. Also, her kimono belonged to the teahouse, and Mayuri could have her arrested as a thief if she ran away wearing it.

“We decided Sayuri would hide in the latrine until Yoshi fell asleep and then run away with me in the morning, after he left.”

“Where did you go after that?” Hiro asked.

“I walked home. It took over an hour. The rainstorm started shortly after I left the Sakura, so I took shelter under a tree and waited it out.”

“Can anyone confirm your story?” Hiro asked.

“Actually, yes,” Hidetaro said. “Just before the rain started I noticed a samurai following me. The figure stayed in the shadows, trying to avoid notice, which of course made his efforts that much more obvious. I pretended to turn a corner and ducked behind a wall. When the figure passed, I jumped out and grabbed him. Or, more properly, her—it was Yoshiko.”

“Yoshiko?” Hiro asked.

“She overheard me arguing with her father and followed me to ensure I didn’t harm him.”

“Did she hear you talking with Sayuri?” Hiro asked.

“I worried about that at first,” Hidetaro admitted, “but she said she didn’t. She apparently hid just inside the garden wall. She saw me waiting outside the room and going to the latrine, but she didn’t even know I had talked with Sayuri.”

“How can that be?” Hiro asked.

Hidetaro thought aloud. “The latrine is partly hidden behind the teahouse, and Sayuri approached it from that side—she left the teahouse through the back door, not the veranda door that led directly to her room. I was hiding behind the latrine, and Sayuri joined me there for our conversation, so a person standing at the garden gate would not have seen us.”

“But that person would have seen any shadows on the wall of Sayuri’s room, or a killer on the veranda after the murder,” Father Mateo offered.

Hidetaro shook his head. “Only if the murder occurred while Sayuri and I were talking. I left as soon as Sayuri entered the latrine, and Yoshiko followed.”

Hiro stood up and bowed. “Thank you for your time and your honesty.”

“When I thought Sayuri and I might escape together, I was prepared to say anything to convince you of our innocence,” Hidetaro said as he walked them to the door. “If we cannot both escape Nobuhide’s anger, I will say what I must to save her.”

Chapter 35

Hiro and Father Mateo walked back through the city as the sky turned pale and the clouds glowed orange with sunset.

“Well, I guess Hidetaro wasn’t disguised as the rice merchant after all,” Father Mateo said, then added, “We can’t let him take the blame if he isn’t guilty.”

“Don’t worry,” Hiro replied, “Nobuhide won’t let him. Hidetaro wants to save Sayuri’s life, but Nobuhide will see through his story at once. Only the real killer will divert his sword.”

They crossed the Kamo River at Shij
ō
Road, but Hiro did not turn north toward the church.

“Why are we going back to the teahouse?” Father Mateo asked. “Mayuri won’t like it.”

Hiro smiled. “I know.”

When Mayuri answered the door she didn’t even try to hide her irritation. “This is a place of business, not a Tokaido way station! How can I earn a living with you barging in and out?”

“This will all be over tomorrow, one way or another,” Hiro said, “but we need to speak with Sayuri one more time.”

“One time,” Mayuri said, “and then no more.”

She led them into the house.

A delicate smell of steaming rice and grilling meat lingered in Hiro’s nostrils, where it mingled with the fainter scents of flowers and perfume—the smell of a teahouse preparing to welcome its guests.

Shamisen music floated through the air. Each note rose, wavered, and died away like a blossom blooming and falling from a tree. Hiro recognized this song too. It told of loss and death and endings, and the melody evoked those thoughts so perfectly that he didn’t need to guess who played it or what inspired the choice.

Sayuri sat with her back to the door. She cradled her shamisen lovingly in her arms and did not bother to turn or look behind her when the door rustled open. Hiro and Father Mateo waited until she finished her song and laid the shamisen carefully on the floor.

Then she turned and her mouth fell open in surprise.

Mayuri closed the door with a gentle rattle, leaving them alone.

“Akechi Hidetaro sends his regards,” Hiro said, “and best wishes for a happy future.”

Sayuri scowled. “Why do you mock me?”

“I am not mocking,” Hiro said. “His death will save you. You no longer have reason to fear.”

“Death?” The word came out as a strangled whisper. “No. He didn’t kill anyone.”

“I doubt Nobuhide will find your words persuasive,” Hiro lied, “particularly when he hears Hidetaro’s confession.”

“How could he confess? He didn’t kill Hideyoshi.”

“He claims he did, and his story sounds persuasive. He hated Hideyoshi, and Nobuhide knows they argued about you.”

Sayuri raised her hand to her throat. “He didn’t do it. I can prove his innocence.”

“I do not believe you,” Hiro said. “A woman’s lies will not keep Hidetaro alive.”

Sayuri looked down at her lap. When she looked up again, her eyes were full of tears. Her forehead wrinkled and her nose turned red in a futile effort to hold them back, but they ran down her cheeks as she spoke.