He knew no guards would be patrolling the back of the villa tonight, so he hoisted himself over the wall and started slipping from tree to tree to reach the appointed spot. He had done this many times before, although he didn’t like the cold swim at the end. His movements were almost routine by now.
He found shelter in the darkness of a large pine tree growing next to the lake and placed his sword in a hollow of the tree. He took off his kimono, shivering slightly in the late-night air in his loincloth, and put his rolled-up kimono next to his sword. He was starting to untie his straw sandals when he heard a sound above him. He looked up just as a man landed on him, flattening him on the ground and knocking the wind out of him.
Kaze heard a satisfying “Oommph!” when he landed on the man, and he knew it would be several minutes before the man could muster up the wind to try to get away. He grabbed the man by the arm and dragged him into the moonlight, where he could get a better look at his face. He was surprised.
“Well,” Kaze said, “if you’re going to be my regular landing cushion when I jump out of trees, then you’d better put some more meat on you.” Staring up him was the bandit with the scarred cheek he had jumped on the Tokaido Road.
A half hour later, Kaze was sitting in a room with a sleepy Hishigawa and the frightened bandit.
“I dare not tell!” the bandit said. “The Boss would slit my throat.”
Kaze put his hand on the hilt of his sword. He gave the bandit a smile that made the half-naked man shudder. “If you don’t tell, I’ll start another process,” Kaze said menacingly. “I’ll start slicing you into thin shavings, like a block of katsuo-bushi. When you were a young boy, you probably watched your mother shaving the bonito block to get flavoring for soup. If you don’t tell Hishigawa-san what you told me, then I’m going to cut you into equally thin slices, and each cut will hurt.”
The bandit looked at Kaze fearfully, not sure if the samurai was bluffing. He decided not to test this threat. “All right,” he said. “Enomoto-san employed us to rob Hishigawa-san of his gold.”
“Enomoto-san?” Hishigawa was now fully awake, his eyes round with surprise.
“Yes. I was part of the band that robbed you before. We would have robbed you again, but this samurai stopped us. We were told not to harm you, but we were also told to get the gold.”
“But you killed my yojimbo,” Hishigawa said.
“Yes. That was part of the plan, so you would never suspect Enomoto-san. When you were moving especially large amounts of gold, Enomoto-san would assign weak men to escort you. He knew they would die, but they were unaware of the planned attack. That way we could rob you many times and you would not suspect it was being arranged from within your own household.”
Hishigawa was confused. He looked at Kaze. “What do we do now?” he asked.
“We tie this scum up and then go to sleep. Then we talk to Enomoto-san in the morning. Before we do that, we make sure the household guards understand that they were used as sacrificial usagi, rabbits. They were destined by Enomoto-san to eventually have their necks caught in a snare and killed, so that he and his real men could continue robbing you.”
Enomoto walked into the reception room of Hishigawa’s villa. He was annoyed because his man had missed their appointment, so he could not get the full story of how the ronin had foiled the robbery attempt on the Tokaido. He was even more annoyed that the love-besotted fool of a merchant had decided to have a meeting the first thing in the morning.
He walked into the room and stopped immediately. The atmosphere of the room was charged with tension, and Enomoto’s swordsman’s eyes took in the scene at one glance.
Hishigawa was sitting on the dais, like some nobleman. Next to him was the ronin, watching Enomoto carefully, with his sword worn at an angle from which he could pull it quickly. The old hag Ando was on the other side, her rat’s eyes looking at him with hatred. The household guards were standing in the room, glaring at him. They must know, Enomoto thought. And sitting in front of the ronin was his appointment for the hour of the rat. Tied, half naked, and no doubt singing like a kusahibari, a “grass lark,” the most popular singing insect that the mushi-uri, the insect seller, offered.
“Well, it’s over,” Enomoto said before any accusations could be made. “I’m glad. I was growing weary of the farce of a man like me working for a worm like you,” Enomoto said to Hishigawa.
Hishigawa had a suitable shocked look on his face, and the old harpy Ando actually hissed at him, like a snake expressing its anger.
“You… you …” Hishigawa started.
“Don’t bother,” Enomoto interrupted. “I’ll be going. Don’t complain to the authorities about the money I took or I’ll have to talk to them about our little secrets.” He turned to go, then stopped. He swiveled his head around to take one more look at the composed face of the ronin, Matsuyama Kaze. His gaze was met steadily by the ronin, who had a face that mirrored neither surprise nor concern. Forgetting his control for an instant, Enomoto’s own countenance darkened, like the angry skies during a typhoon. He said nothing to the ronin, but both men knew the depth of Enomoto’s hatred for the interloper. Enomoto turned and left, walking out the front door of the villa and past the startled guard at the gate.
Well, that went well, except for the insolent tongue of that rogue, Enomoto,” Hishigawa said.
Kaze made no reply.
“I wonder if you would reconsider my offer to work for me,” Hishigawa said.
“I will consider it,” Kaze replied. “I also have an idea for you to consider.”
“What is that?”
“I wonder why you move gold between Edo, Kamakura, and Kyoto.”
“Well,” Hishigawa said patiently, as if lecturing a slow child, “the businesses in each city have different needs. Sometimes a business in one city needs gold and a business in another city has too much. So I must transfer the gold from one city to the other.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Kaze said, ignoring Hishigawa’s tone. “I was wondering why you physically transfer the gold, running the risk of theft.”
“How else would I meet the needs of my businesses in each city?”
“There are other businesses that operate both in Edo and Kyoto or Kyoto and Kamakura?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And they have a similar problem, from time to time?”
“Yes, I suppose so. I don’t see how any business can always stay in balance among the various branches in each city.”
“Then why don’t you act as a broker and find these businesses? Then you need never transfer gold again.”
“What do you mean?”
“Suppose you have a hundred ryo of gold in Edo that you want transferred to Kyoto.”
“Yes?”
“Then you find one or more businesses that have a hundred ryo of gold in Kyoto who want that gold in Edo.”
Hishigawa looked puzzled. “What good would that do? Then you’d have two shipments of gold you’d have to transport.”
Kaze shook his head. “No, then you’d have no shipments of gold to transport. First you collect the hundred ryo of gold in Kyoto that businesses want transported to Edo and you use it in your own business. Then you take the hundred ryo of gold in Edo and give it to the businesses who wanted the gold transported from Kyoto to Edo. All you have to do then is transport paper instructions from Kyoto to Edo, and no actual gold has to be moved.”
Hishigawa looked at Kaze and exclaimed, “Brilliant! I can even charge a nice commission for my services, because the businesses in Kyoto don’t have to run the risk of transporting their gold.” Hishigawa was very excited. “You will make an incredible addition to my business!”
Kaze did not point out he had not agreed to join Hishigawa. He just nodded and let the merchant get swept up in the power and simplicity of the idea. He exchanged several glasses of sakè with the merchant as Hishigawa talked about how he could set up the money exchange service. Finally, when Hishigawa was a little tipsy from the wine, Kaze said, “Enomoto said something about secrets when he left. If I’m to protect you, I have to have an idea about what those secrets are.”