As he peeked through the cracks in the window shutters to see if his enemies were stealing up outside, panic rose in Yugao. “If you don’t like it here, we’ll go somewhere else,” she said even though she hated to leave this sanctuary. She began flinging on her own clothes, a cheap undergarment and kimono she’d stolen from a shop.
The contempt in his glance cut her like a knife. “We’re not going together. I don’t want to lug around a piece of dangerous dead weight. It’s time we split up.”
“No!” Aghast, Yugao clung to him. “I won’t let you leave me!” He wrenched away from her with a sound of exasperation and turned his back on her, but she pressed herself against him. “Not after what I’ve done for you!”
He whirled to face her. The atmosphere between them vibrated with the history of the other things she’d done to win his love, besides nursing him and sheltering him. Yugao could almost smell blood in the air, pungent and metallic.
“I never asked you to do it.” Rage blazed in his eyes.
“But aren’t you glad I did? They were the enemy.”
“You were careless. You could have been caught. People knew about your connection to me. If the police had figured out what you’d done, they would have arrested us both for conspiracy even though you acted on your own.”
“But they didn’t. Fate is on our side. It protected us.”
He shook his head, and an incredulous laugh hissed from him. “Merciful gods, you’re insane! The sooner I’m rid of you, the better!”
He fastened his swords at his waist and stuffed a knapsack with his extra clothes and few other possessions.
“Wait!” Yugao said, frantic. Since her love and his obligation to her wouldn’t stop him, maybe practical reasons would. “You said the chamberlain and his troops are looking for you. You heard they’ve already raided places you’ve been hiding. If you leave, where will you go?”
“That’s my business. Not yours.” But his hands faltered as he tied the knot on the bundle.
Yugao pressed her advantage: “You should lie low for a while. The chamberlain will think you’ve left town. He’ll give up hunting you in Edo. Until then, this is the safest place for you.”
A scowl darkened his features. Yugao sensed him fighting logic, resisting her. She said, “Maybe you can find some cave to hide in, but who will bring you food? Your comrades are dead or scattered all over the country. Who else do you have to help you but me?”
With a sudden burst of temper, he flung his bundle across the room. It hit the wall, then plopped onto the floor. His expression was murderous as he dropped to his knees. Yugao didn’t care that he hated depending on her for survival. Kneeling behind him, she hugged him and laid her cheek against his, although he sat rigid in her embrace.
“Everything will be all right,” she said. “Together we’ll destroy our enemies. Then we’ll be happy together as we were meant to be. Trust me.”
26
The Jade Pavilion didn’t deserve its elegant name. It was a ramshackle inn, crouched on the embankment above the Nihonbashi River, that catered to travelers of limited means and laborers who worked on the barges. The inn had four wings built of planks, roofed with shaggy thatch, and attached by covered corridors. Stone steps led down the embankment to the river, which rippled oily and black in the darkness. Houseboats were anchored along the waterfront. As midnight drew near, the mist thinned, revealing the moon caught like a crystal float in a torn fishing net.
Sano, Hirata, Detectives Marume, Fukida, Inoue, and Arai, and six guards walked up to the Jade Pavilion’s entrance, which was situated on a narrow street lined with food stalls and nautical supply shops, all dark and deserted. Twenty troops that Sano had brought surrounded the inn. A lantern burned above the entrance, but the door was closed. Sano knocked. A pudgy, bald innkeeper poked his head out of the building.
“If you’re looking for rooms, I must apologize, masters,” he said. “Mine are all occupied.”
“We’re looking for a fugitive,” Sano said. “Let us in. And be quiet.”
He and his men strode in the door, along a passage to a garden of wet, overgrown grass and bushes. The smell of privies, fish, and garbage tainted the air. Verandas fronted the buildings that housed the guests. Sano and his men drew their swords, hastened onto the verandas. They flung open doors, shouting, “This is a raid! Everybody out!”
Cries and scuffles sounded inside the rooms. Out stumbled men dressed in night robes or stark naked, blinking with sleep and fear. Hirata and the detectives lined them up on the verandas. The other troops bustled into the garden, towing guests who’d tried to flee out the windows.
“State your names,” Hirata and the detectives ordered. The guests obeyed, their voices mingling in a cacophony of panic.
Nobody emerged from one room. There Sano looked into darkness that appeared to be vacant. The innkeeper hovered in the garden, holding a lamp. Sano called to him, “I thought you said all the rooms were occupied.”
“They were, master,” said the innkeeper.
Sano took possession of the lamp and entered the room. His nostrils twitched at its stench of sickness and decay. On the floor lay a mattress covered with a dirty, crumpled quilt. Flies buzzed around a full chamber pot and a tray that held a meal of rice, tea, and soup; cold and stale. Sano bent and touched the mattress.
Hirata appeared in the doorway. “The men we caught are crew from the river barges. If the Ghost is here, this room must be his.” Hirata looked around the empty room, and his face mirrored the disappointment on Sano’s. “He’s gone?”
“He was here a moment ago. The bed is still warm.” Sano felt intense, crushing frustration because he’d gotten so close yet his quarry had vanished.
“But how could he have gotten away?” Hirata inspected the room. “There’s only one door, and if he’d come out it, we’d have seen him. And the window shutters are locked from the inside. He couldn’t have-”
Sano raised his hand, interrupting Hirata, as a faint noise caught his attention. “What’s that sound?”
They both stood motionless and silent, listening. Sano again heard the sound, a wheeze that ended in a moan. He looked at Hirata, who nodded then mouthed, Where did it come from? They waited. The commotion outside died down, and Marume and Fukida came to the door. Sano put his finger to his lips, cautioning them. Again came the wheeze and moan. This time Sano pointed to the cabinet built into the wall. Marume and Fukida tiptoed across the room. They stood on either side of the cabinet, swords drawn. Sano could almost hear his companions’ heartbeats quickening in rhythm with his, feel them holding their breath. Fukida slid open the cabinet door.
The cabinet was empty except for shelves that held candles, spare bedding, folded garments, and other innocuous items. Even as the letdown relaxed Sano and his men, they heard the wheeze and moan, louder now. Sano inspected the cabinet’s floor. One of the boards was crooked. Marume lifted it and flung it aside. Underneath was a hole perhaps five paces square and four deep. As Sano, Hirata, and the detectives bent over the hole, they gagged at the fetid smell of urine, sweat, and rot that billowed up from it. Sano shone the lamp inside.
A gaunt face stared back at them with fearful eyes. It belonged to a man who lay curled on his side, clothed in dark-hued garments. He inhaled wheezes and exhaled moans. His trembling hand clutched a sword, which he brandished at his captors.
“Drop your weapon,” Sano said. He and his men aimed their own swords at the prisoner. “Come out of there.”
A convulsion seized the prisoner. His body shuddered; his limbs jerked. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his teeth, and uttered a screech of agony.