Blade of the Samurai: A Shinobi Mystery (Shinobi Mysteries) (22 page)

Hiro knew what the priest was going to say and wished he didn’t agree with the Jesuit’s judgment.

Chapter 41

Hiro didn’t wait for Father Mateo to say the name. “You mean Kazu.”

“I’m sorry,” Father Mateo said. “I know he’s your friend.”

“He is,” Hiro said, “and for his sake I hope he’s told the truth.”

Ana returned, teapot in hand. As she knelt to pour the Jesuit’s tea, Hiro caught a whiff of
ichibancha.
The grassy odor almost hid the bitter scent of powdered willow. Hiro hoped the expensive tea would suffice to mask the medicine’s bite, since he caught no hint of the recommended sweetener.

The medicinal odor grew stronger as Ana poured the steaming liquid into an egg-sized porcelain cup.

Father Mateo frowned. “Ana, it’s wrong to steal—even from Luis. That’s his tea.”

“Hm.” Ana raised the cup to the Jesuit’s lips. “He didn’t refuse permission.”

Hiro decided not to mention that lack of refusal wasn’t exactly permission.

Father Mateo sipped the tea. He scowled. “That tastes terrible.”

Ana’s eyes widened. She picked up the teapot and hurried from the room.

“She forgot the sugar,” Hiro chuckled.

“Not funny,” Father Mateo said. “It tasted foul.”

Hiro smothered a laugh.

Ana hurried back into the room, carrying a tray of sweetened rice balls. “This will take the bitterness away.”

Hiro reached for the tray but Ana pulled the treats out of reach. “Hm. None for you. You laughed.”

She laid the plate on the floor beside the Jesuit. “I’ll bring more tea as soon as the water boils. You won’t have to drink it tepid for my mistake.” She glared at Hiro and left the room.

The shinobi shrugged. “I think I’ll send a message to Lady Netsuko.”

“Will she see you?” Father Mateo maneuvered a rice ball toward his mouth. His bandaged hands made the process awkward. “You said Hisahide dismissed the investigation.”

“Netsuko seemed fairly certain that Jun was involved in Saburo’s murder,” Hiro said. “If she doesn’t accept that Den acted alone, I think she’ll welcome my visit.”

“And if she accepts Hisahide’s determination?” Father Mateo asked.

“As long as Netsuko believes I’m implicating Jun, I think she’ll see me.”

Hiro returned to his room and wrote a brief letter to Lady Ashikaga. He revised it twice before settling on a final version and setting the words to parchment. When it was finished and dry, he paid the neighbor’s son a copper coin to deliver the message.

While he waited for her response, the shinobi sat down to review the evidence.

Saburo’s letter suggested a plot against the shogun, as did Den’s confession. The altered ledger indicated the shogun suspected something, though Hiro couldn’t determine whether the guards were changed due to knowledge or merely caution. Unfortunately, he also didn’t know if the shogun had really changed the names or if Kazu lied about that too.

He wished he knew who Kazu was protecting.

Hiro had barely finished the thought when he fell asleep.

Two nights without rest had finally taken their toll.

*   *   *

A knock woke Hiro from sleep. He raised his head from the desk and wiped a tendril of drool from his lip. He stood and straightened his kimono. Lady Ashikaga must have answered his message in person.

A moment later, he heard the front door open and then the mumur of Ana’s formal greeting.

He crossed his room and opened the door just in time to hear Ashikaga Ichiro tell the housekeeper, “I have come to speak with Matsui Hiro.”

Hiro stepped into the common room and bowed as Ana led Ichiro into the house.

Ichiro returned the bow with a deep one of his own, suggesting he viewed the shinobi as an equal. Given the boy’s affiliation with the shogun’s clan, Hiro found the respect surprising.

“Please have a seat.” Hiro gestured to the hearth.

Ana bowed and left for the kitchen, doubtless intending to raid Luis’s private stash of
ichibancha
for the third time in less than a day.

Ichiro looked at the hearth but shook his head. “Will you take a walk with me?”

Hiro hid his surprise at the adult phrasing. Whatever the boy intended to say, he wanted to say it where nobody else could hear.

“If you please?” Ichiro asked. “It isn’t raining at the moment. Not much, anyway.”

“I don’t mind a little rain.” Hiro gestured toward the door and followed Ichiro back through the entry and out of the house.

The shinobi stepped off the porch and into his sandals. Ichiro did the same, and they walked together down the gravel path toward the road. Hiro listened for the neighbor’s dog but heard nothing. The wife must have recovered enough for her husband to return to work.

Hiro and Ichiro walked up Marutamachi Road toward the river. Clouds covered the sky, though here and there a wisp of blue peeked through, as if the storm could not decide between staying and moving on.

Hiro said nothing. Ichiro would speak when he was ready.

As they passed Okazaki Shrine the cloying odor of sandalwood incense rose from the braziers on either side of the gate, overwhelming the piny scent of surrounding trees.

Hiro stifled a cough.

“You don’t like incense.” Ichiro smiled. “I don’t either.” His smile disappeared. “My mother does. She burns it all the time, in the hope the kami will smell it and grant her prayers.”

“What does your mother pray for?” Hiro asked.

“The same thing as always: my father. Only now she prays for his soul.”

When they reached the river Ichiro turned onto the path that followed the eastern bank. Hiro matched the young samurai’s pace without comment.

As they left the bridge behind Ichiro said, “Matsunaga Hisahide says that Den, the stable boy, killed my father and that he acted alone. Do you believe this?”

“Do you believe it?” Hiro asked.

“I saw your message. Why do you want to meet with my mother?”

“She asked me to keep her informed,” Hiro said, deciding not to continue the question-for-question exchange.

“I don’t believe you.” Ichiro stopped walking. “Samurai do not report to women. Besides, the investigation is over and you are discharged from your duties. Matsunaga-
san
’s message mentioned that also.”

“That is true,” Hiro said, “but I didn’t know that Matsunaga
-san
sent word to your family. I intended to tell your mother that the investigation has been canceled.”

“You lie.” Despite his diminutive stature, Ichiro looked every inch a samurai. “Do not patronize me because I am young. I am still my father’s heir.”

He paused. “Unless my father’s mistress has borne another.”

“Not that I know of.” That much, at least, was true.

“But you know my father had a mistress.” Ichiro searched the shinobi’s face. Hiro wondered what the boy hoped to find there.

Hiro raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer.

“My mother knew,” Ichiro said. “She told me only after my father died. The mistress’s name is Jun, and she is a maid at the shogunate. My mother says this woman killed my father.”

Hiro blinked. Before he decided what to say Ichiro continued, “But I don’t think Jun murdered my father. I think my mother killed him.”

Chapter 42

“Why do you suspect your mother?” Hiro asked.

“I don’t think she held the dagger,” Ichiro said, “but she dismissed her suspicion of Kazu too quickly, as if she knew that he was not to blame. She also didn’t believe that Den confessed to my father’s murder. She made Hisahide’s messenger repeat the message twice.

“Later, when I asked why she didn’t believe it, she refused to discuss the matter at all. That isn’t like her. I think she knows who killed my father.” Ichiro looked at the river. “But if she won’t admit it, doesn’t that mean she’s involved in the crime?”

Before Hiro could answer, hoofbeats pounded on the bridge behind them. The shinobi turned, surprised by the sound.

The rider wore a dark-blue tunic emblazoned with the Ashikaga mon. His stallion’s barding bore the shogun’s crest. The samurai leaned over his horse’s neck, urging the beast to maximum speed. Moments later, horse and rider disappeared down Marutamachi Road toward Okazaki Shrine—and the Jesuit’s home.

Hiro started toward the bridge.

“Where are you going?” Ichiro asked.

“That rider is heading for Father Mateo’s house.”

Ichiro hurried to catch up. “How do you know?”

“No samurai wastes a horse’s speed without reason, and the only home of interest beyond Okazaki Shrine belongs to the priest.”

*   *   *

As Hiro expected, the messenger’s horse stood in the street in front of Father Mateo’s home. The samurai had disappeared, presumably inside, and left the horse alone with its reins dangling loose to the ground. Hiro had heard of horses that stood without tying but never seen it before. He wondered if Masao had trained the beast.

The shinobi hurried past the horse and up the gravel path to the Jesuit’s home. Ichiro followed. Just before the shinobi reached the house, the door swung open.

Ana appeared in the doorway with the shogun’s messenger right behind her. The housekeeper pointed at Hiro.

“That is Matsui Hiro,” she said. “I told you he wasn’t here.”

The messenger stepped onto the porch and bowed. As he straightened he noticed the Ashikaga mon on Ichiro’s clothing. He bowed again, more deeply.

“May I help you?” Hiro asked.

The messenger straightened. “Matsunaga Hisahide requests your presence at the shogunate immediately.”

“I’ll leave at once,” Hiro said.

The messenger stepped into his shoes, bowed again, and hurried toward his horse. Hiro watched him swing into the saddle and canter away up the street.

“I’m going with you,” Father Mateo said from the doorway.

Hiro turned to see the Jesuit standing next to Ana.

“No,” Hiro said. “You haven’t recovered. Besides, you seem to forget that Father Vilela barred you from the shogunate.”

“For the duration of your investigation,” Father Mateo said. “But unless I’m mistaken, Hisahide concluded that investigation this morning.”

“I doubt Miyoshi Akira will find that persuasive,” Hiro said.

“He can think what he wants.” Father Mateo stepped off the porch and into his sandals. “We can argue the fine points later. I’m going with you.”

Hiro looked to Ana for support, but the maid stepped into the house and shut the door.

Father Mateo started toward the street.

“I’d like to continue our conversation,” Hiro told Ichiro. “May I send a message after I finish my business at the shogunate?”

Ichiro matched the shinobi’s pace. “I’m going with you too.”

“Hisahide may not admit you to the meeting,” Hiro said.

Ichiro smiled. “If the meeting relates to my father’s death, he has no legal right to exclude an heir who carries the Ashikaga name. If I have to, I will force my way in by rank.”

*   *   *

At the shogunate, the guards admitted Hiro and the others without question. A messenger led them directly to Saburo’s inner office, where Hisahide knelt at Saburo’s desk.

A man and a woman knelt before the desk with their backs to the entrance. Hiro couldn’t see their faces, but he knew them anyway.

Masao and Jun.

The stable master knelt with his hands at his sides and his face cast down in defeat. His shoulders slumped and he did not turn as Hiro and the others entered the room.

Hisahide looked from Hiro to the boy and the priest. A question formed in his eyes.

The shinobi bowed. “We came as quickly as we could.”

“Speed necessitates companions?” Hisahide asked.

Father Mateo bowed. “Matsui Hiro is my retainer. Given your earlier dismissal of his services, your summons made me concerned that his performance was unsatisfactory. I came to apologize for his inadequacy.”

Hiro gave the priest a sideways glance. It always startled him when the Jesuit lied.

“There is no need for apologies,” Hisahide said. “I assure you, Matsui
-san
’s performance was acceptable. Miyoshi Akira would tell you the same, but he is away on other business this afternoon.” He turned his gaze on Ichiro. “This is no place for a child.”

“I am not here as a child,” Ichiro said. “Your summons suggests new information about my father’s death. I have come as his heir, to claim the right of vengeance against his killer.”

Jun glanced over her shoulder at Ichiro and then looked at Masao. The stable master continued to stare at the floor.

“You guessed correctly,” Hisahide said. “I have learned that Den did not kill Ashikaga Saburo. The stable master did.”

“I did not kill anyone.” Masao spoke without emotion, as if he knew the words would have no impact.

Hisahide gestured to Masao but looked at Hiro. “As you see, I have a problem. He will not confess, even when confronted with evidence of his guilt. The shogun commanded me to obtain a confession—it would be awkward to execute the wrong man, given our previous belief that Den was the killer.”

After a long pause, Hisahide repeated, “It would be awkward.”

“You want me to help you obtain a confession?” Hiro asked.

“Masao claims you can verify his innocence,” Hisahide said. “He admits to changing the stable boy’s suicide message, but says he didn’t murder anyone.”

“That is what he told me,” Hiro said. “What makes you think he’s lying?”

Hisahide pointed at Jun. “The maid saw him outside Saburo’s office just before, or possibly after, the murder. Masao killed Saburo and took advantage of his apprentice’s suicide.”

Jun gave Hiro a pleading look. “It’s true. I saw him sneaking around the mansion about the time Ashikaga
-san
died. I was afraid to admit it … after Den … I thought Masao would kill me too.”

The stable master looked at Jun with revulsion. “She’s lying. She didn’t see me. I wasn’t there.”

Chapter 43

“I was at dinner with my cousin the night Ashikaga
-san
died,” Masao continued.

“If you’re innocent, why did you alter the stable boy’s suicide message?” Hisahide demanded.