Masahiro scrambled down the tree and jumped to the ground. But as he hurried toward the pavilion where he'd tied his pony, a hand grabbed his arm. He yelped in surprise.
The hand belonged to a samurai who'd stepped out from behind another tree. His face, his tattered wicker hat, and his worn cotton kimono and leggings were dark with soaked-in grime. His other hand rested on the hilt of his long sword. Masahiro froze and went dumbstruck with terror.
This man was surely a rnin bandit who meant to rob him or kill him, or both.
"Not so fast, Masahiro-san," the rnin said.
Astonishment replaced some of Masahiro's fear. "How-how did you know my name?" The man was a stranger.
"I've seen you at your father's house," the rnin said in a flat voice that didn't match his scary appearance.
"You're a friend of Father's?" Masahiro dared to feel relief.
The skin around the rnin's eyes crinkled with amusement underneath the grime. "You could call me that."
Masahiro was suspicious and wary nonetheless. He tried to tug his arm free, but the rnin held on tight.
"I didn't know Father had friends who look like you," the boy said.
"Your father has all sorts of friends you don't know."
That remark didn't comfort Masahiro. "How did you recognize me?"
"I saw you leave the castle dressed as a messenger boy. A while later, I noticed you in a different outfit." The rnin flicked his finger against Masahiro's head kerchief. "I took a closer look, and I thought, 'That's Chamberlain Sano's son.' "
"Nobody was supposed to know." Masahiro was disappointed that his disguise hadn't been as good as he'd thought. "How did you?"
"You were riding the same black-and-white pony."
"Oh," Masahiro said, chagrined.
Suddenly he noticed that the rnin's fiercely slanted eyebrows were drawn on his face with charcoal, like those of actors in Kabuki plays. A thought struck Masahiro: He wasn't the only one wearing a disguise. And the rnin was better at noticing things than most people.
"Did you come to visit Father yesterday?" Masahiro asked.
"Yes…" Now the rnin looked startled, displeased, and amused all at once. "You were eavesdropping."
The rnin was the spy named Toda.
"But I don't recognize you," Masahiro said. "You look so different today."
"Well, that's the purpose of a disguise." Toda added, "I've learned a few more things besides those I inadvertently taught you. Here's one: When you're watching somebody, don't assume that nobody is watching you."
Toda had seen him following Yanagisawa. Masahiro felt foolish because he'd thought himself invisible and hadn't noticed Toda doing the same thing. Now Masahiro realized that Yanagisawa was getting away from them both.
"Excuse me," Masahiro said. "I have to go."
Toda restrained him. "Oh, no, you don't."
"But we're going to lose Yanagisawa!"
"What do you mean, 'we'?" Toda said with a sarcastic laugh. "I am the spy. You are just a child. I'm taking you home."
"But Yanagisawa-"
"No buts," Toda said, "and forget Yanagisawa. If I let you keep playing spy, and something should happen to you, your father would kill me. Come along now."
21
Sano returned to Edo Jail that afternoon with his cousin Chiyo and with Reiko. As he rode across the bridge over the canal that fronted the prison, the women followed in a palanquin. Major Kumazawa had insisted on coming along, and he trailed them with his troops and Sano's. The procession halted at the gate.
Inside the palanquin, Chiyo said, "I'm afraid."
"You'll be all right," Reiko said soothingly.
But she was worried about Chiyo, who seemed even frailer than yesterday. Shadows under her eyes bled through her white makeup. When she spoke, tears trembled in her voice. Under her brown silk kimono, her body was gaunt, hunched like an old woman's; she'd aged years overnight. Reiko didn't know how any woman could recover from kidnapping, rape, and the loss of her children. She was afraid that what Sano had asked Chiyo to do would make matters worse, even though Chiyo had willingly agreed to cooperate.
She heard horses' hooves clattering over the bridge. She looked out the window of the palanquin and saw Detectives Marume and Fukida ride up to Sano.
"Where is the nun?" Sano asked.
"She didn't want to come," Fukida said. "When we tried to take her out of the convent, she became upset."
" 'Upset' is putting it mildly," Marume said. "She cried and threw a fit. We thought we'd better just let her be."
"You did the right thing," Sano said, although Reiko could see that he was disappointed. "We'll manage without her."
"Am I the only one?" Chiyo said, alarmed.
Across the bridge came another procession: Hirata on horse back, accompanied by a few troops, escorting another palanquin. "No," Reiko said. "Here's one more."
The troops dismounted, reached into the palanquin, and pulled out Fumiko. Her kimono had new rips and new streaks of mud. Her face was bunched in a murderous scowl.
"She put up quite a fight, but we got her," Hirata said. Fumiko's hands were tied behind her back and her ankles loosely bound together with rope so that she could walk but not run. "I hated to do this, but otherwise she'd have gotten away."
Chiyo gasped. "Is that the girl who was kidnapped?"
"Yes," Reiko said. "Her name is Fumiko." She explained what had happened to the girl.
"The poor thing." As Chiyo beheld the girl, the misery on her own face was leavened by compassion.
"What are we waiting for?" demanded Major Kumazawa. "Let's get this over with."
Sano looked across the bridge and said, "We've got company."
Reiko saw a pudgy, gray-haired man with sagging jowls stalk up to Sano and Hirata. His sharp, gleaming eyes and the cruel curve of his lips brought to mind a hungry wolf. Three big, muscular fellows with tattoos accompanied him.
"It's Jirocho," Reiko said.
"Who is he?" Chiyo asked.
"A big gangster boss. He's also Fumiko's father."
"Papa!" Fumiko cried.
Her wild eyes lit with happiness. She stumbled toward him, hobbled by the rope around her ankles, and threw herself at Jirocho. He pushed her away as if she were a stranger who'd dared bump into him. He didn't even look at his child.
"Papa," Fumiko said, her voice broken by tears.
In the palanquin, Chiyo murmured in sympathy.
"Honorable Chamberlain. Ssakan Hirata. Good afternoon." Jirocho bowed in respectful yet perfunctory greeting. "I heard that you arrested the two kidnappers."
"You get news quicker than anybody else in Edo," Hirata said dryly. "But the men we arrested are only suspects at this point."
"What are you doing here?" Sano asked Jirocho. His manner was cool and calm, but Reiko sensed his anger at this man who'd broken the law many times and punished his daughter for a crime that wasn't her fault.
"I want to see the suspects," Jirocho said.
"Why?" Sano said. "So that you can kill them?"
Jirocho didn't answer, but his jowls tightened and his predatory eyes glittered. His men grouped around him, his wolf pack.
"Stay out of this," Sano said. "If they're guilty, I'll see that they're punished according to the law."
"Maybe I can help you figure out whether they're guilty," Jirocho said. "Maybe I know them. Maybe I've seen them hanging around my daughter."
Sano hesitated, and Reiko could feel him thinking that even though he distrusted the gangster, perhaps he needed Jirocho. He'd told her that the suspects had refused to confess and he had no evidence to prove their guilt. "All right," Sano said. "You can come with us. But keep quiet and don't interfere."