Nevertheless.
Tora turned and strolled toward the door as if he had become tired of the harbor office and was taking a look at the ships instead. The thug saw him coming and ducked out.
Well, this promised to be an interesting quarry after all. Tora intended to find out why he was watching them and who had told him to do so.
The man was big enough to be easily seen above the smaller people milling around. Besides, the colorful cloth twisted about his head waved like a flag. He walked with a lumbering gait, looking back only once.
Very odd. It was broad daylight, and the man knew he was being followed. Let him try to run. Tora felt quite confident he would catch him. The thug carried too much weight in those broad shoulders and chest.
They strolled into the Chinese quarter. Tora grew somewhat less confident: if he had to tackle the man, his fellow countrymen might take exception and jump to his rescue. But his quarry left the Chinese quarter behind and made for a warehouse district. Here he slowed down as if he were looking for a specific place. Tora decided it was time and speeded up.
The other man glanced over his shoulder again and ran through an open gate, Tora at his heels.
They were in a wide service yard of some sort. As Tora had known, the man was hardly fleet of foot. He made for one of the low buildings, but Tora snatched at the back of shirt, growling, “Hold it. I want a word.”
The man tore himself free and shouted something in Chinese as he ducked into the building.
Tora rushed after him.
After the bright sunlight, the darkness inside blinded him, and he slid to a halt. At that moment, a heavy blow struck the back of his head and sent him falling forward. He passed out before he hit the floor.
*
Pain. And voices. Dizziness. Nausea.
A strange smell. Of dirt and something else.
Never mind. Let it go. Blessed darkness.
The voices returned and with them the pain and the nausea.
Maybe he was having a dream. A nightmare.
Serves the bastard right. He’ll never interfere with me again.
More pain. A laugh.
This pain was fresh, sharp, and lasting. In his side. He wanted to scream but no sound came. Vomit rose to his mouth. He swallowed it down.
What’s next?
The convict ship. They can lose him on the way, if you want.
I want. But I’ll have a bit of fun first. Laughter.
Two people. The voices were familiar. Well, not quite. It nagged at him, but his head felt like a sponge, and his side burned with every breath.
A very bad dream!
Do what you want, but don’t mark him up too badly. He’s as good as dead.
Who was that?
Tora’s eyes would not open. Had he become blind? Feet shuffled about on the floor. Clothes rustled. Then more pain. A leather strap. He screamed. Trying to twist away, he realized his arms were twisted behind his back, his wrists tied. Then he passed out.
When he came to next, he knew enough by now not to make a sound. Even breathing hurt. He lay still and slipped into semi-consciousness.
But this did not last. He pulled at his bonds. All it got him was new agony. He gasped and almost passed out again. They had kicked and beaten him. One of his ribs must be broken.
Watch out! He’s coming around!
This time he knew the voice: Hiroshi!
A hand seized Tora’s topknot and jerked his head up. He moaned and opened his eyes. He saw a fuzzy scene of a lit lantern and two shadowy figures.
“You’ll be sorry for this, Hiroshi,” he gasped.
A moment’s silence, and then a vicious slap that rattled Tora’s teeth and made his mouth bleed.
Hiroshi’s face sneered down at him. “It’s you is going to be sorry, dog official. You thought you were so smart. Had it all figured out. Coming to my house and telling the wife I’d killed Yoko.”
“You didn’t?” It hurt to speak.
Hiroshi laughs. “Of course I killed her. That bitch asked for it.”
“How?” mumbled Tora.
“She was coming back from the market and saw me outside the house. She wanted to know what I’d been doing there the night my father’s whore died. I went after her, pretending I was after sex.”
“You also killed your mother?”
Hiroshi spat. “That Chinese bitch wasn’t my mother. She deserved to die. She’d stolen my father’s gold. I’d have overlooked it, but the greedy cunt wouldn’t share.”
“You’re a killer, Hiroshi. You’re going away for a long time.”
Hiroshi burst out laughing. “You’re going away forever, bastard.” He made a fist and struck Tora’s temple, and all went dark again.
*
When he woke next, he was alone and all was silent. He had no idea how much time had passed, but the pain was still with him, sharp and fresh. He lay very still and breathed slowly. He found he could open his eyes, but they saw only darkness, so he closed them again. Under his cheek was mud. The mud smelled of blood. His blood. It was so still he could hear his own breathing. Was he still bleeding? What had Hiroshi and the other one done to him? Had they left him to die?
If he did not move, the pain was bearable. He drifted off to sleep.
When he jerked awake again, the broken rib reminded him this was no dream. They had attacked him from behind, knocked him out, probably beaten him bloody, and tied him up. Later one of them had kicked him and broken a rib, and later again, Hiroshi had knocked him out with a fist to the temple.
He wanted him unconscious.
Correction: he wanted him dead, but first he wanted him unconscious.
But why?
And who was the other man?
Since he could do nothing else, he thought back. The watcher in the harbor office. He had followed the man, and then he had been ambushed.
The watcher was a stranger. Had he followed them a long time? Their visit to Fragrant Orchid’s house had attracted a lot of attention.
Tora tried to remember the crowd, but he could not come up with an answer. His mind had been on the courtesan’s death and later on the disappearance of the governor. It was not until the harbor office, that his master had noticed the watcher. And there, he had been pretty obvious, leaning beside the door and staring at them.
He had wanted to be seen.
It was a trick worth remembering. The colorful cloth tied around his head had been part of it, and so had his slow lumbering walk. Of course he had been easy to follow. He had made sure he was.
And like a fool Tora had fallen in the trap.
Self-reproach did not help.
He thought of the other voice again. Yes, it had sounded familiar. In an unpleasant way.
Tora concentrated, trying to play back the words in his mind.
He’ll never interfere with me again!
He had it! It had been that bastard Okata. He had taken this revenge because Tora’s reports had cost him his position. And Hiroshi had been eager to help. A pretty stupid thing to do. It would just make things worse for Okata. He had attacked an officer of the tribunal. It would not help Hiroshi either.
But dimly other words came back to Tora.
What’s next? That had been Hiroshi.
And Okata’s answer.
The convict ship.
Either way he’s a dead man.
It was not good, but Tora did not immediately understand.
Either way he’s a dead man.
Then the memory of Sado Island surfaced. His master had pretended to be a convict there and had almost died in the gold mine on that island.
But here?
And then it came to him: Tsushima. Another island with a mine. A silver mine. And yes, they their sent convicts there. Old Mitsui had hanged himself in his jail cell rather than face such a sentence.