He did not mention that he had recognized a line in the journal.
The Bathhouse
Saburo was aware that his suspicion could be wrong and an embarrassing waste of time. Even given the two pieces of information which supported it, they could fit any number of different people. Yet he could not shake the feeling that he was right.
He spent every free minute watching. This was complicated and expensive because he did not want to attract notice and scare his suspect off. He sat outside a wine shop to keep his eyes on a door farther down the street, hoping his man would emerge or enter. Eventually, he had to abandon his watch to go to work before he laid eyes on him.
The following night, he was back at his spot, and this time he was in luck. His quarry emerged and walked away down the street. Saburo followed at a distance, watching, waiting for the other to make a mistake. Once or twice he thought he did, but he could not be sure.
The next day, he met with Tora and Genba.
He was surprised to see Genba free. They embraced and then walked to a nearby restaurant to celebrate.
Genba and Tora took turns filling him in on all that happened since Genba had been released.
“I don’t mind telling you,” said Genba, his face shining with joy, “I was flabbergasted. The superintendent himself came to set me free. It was almost like he meant to tell me how sorry he was except, of course, he didn’t do that.”
Tora broke in, “He should’ve apologized. He had no business treating you or any of us who work for our master in this fashion.”
“Well, I was glad enough, except there was Ohiro. I hardly dared ask about her, but I did, and he said to wait outside and she’d be with me. And it wasn’t any time at all before she came, looking just as confused as I felt. I can’t tell you how good it was to see her.”
“So what are your plans?” Saburo asked, wondering if Genba really intended to make a prostitute his wife.
“Oh, that’s the best part,” Tora said. “The master made her welcome. We’re on our way now to hire the carpenter. Genba will need a separate place for his wife and children. We’ll use part of the stables. There’s plenty of room there, and the master’s given us his blessing. Genba and Ohiro will have a cozy room or two with a small kitchen, just like Hanae and me.”
“Ah, in the stable?” said Saburo, thinking this would mean losing the room he and Genba had shared.
“Well, it’s the best place, and the two love birds can move in within a week. But I haven’t told you about the master’s accident yet.”
Tora related the frightening hours spent on the mountainside. Genba spoiled the suspense by saying too quickly, “But the master’s fine. Just a pulled shoulder joint and some bruises.”
“Don’t forget the cut on his head,” Tora pointed out. “He was unconscious for hours, lying there on that narrow ledge. I talked myself hoarse, telling him not to move.”
Saburo shook his head. “A terrible accident… if it was one.”
Tora frowned. “Of course it was. He says e slipped.”
“Hmm. Did you and the master find out who killed the lady?”
“Not yet, but we will. He has her diary. What about you? Any progress on Tokuzo?”
Saburo hesitated. “Yes and no. I have an idea that’s pretty vague. Still it keeps nagging at me. I’ve taken to following someone.”
The other two looked blank. “What are you talking about?” Tora asked
Saburo explained.
Tora said, “I know him, and I don’t believe it. He is what he is. And that means he couldn’t have killed Tokuzo.”
Saburo glowered. “Really? Why not? For a shinobi it’s the best disguise in the world.”
They gaped at him. Genba nodded slowly. “There was that smell. And I had hold of the guy. He was very strong and very quick. But I don’t see how anyone could get away with it for long.”
Saburo said, “He mostly goes out after dark. One night I nearly ran into him. He stopped first. That’s what gave me the idea.”
Tora said, “It proves nothing. Their hearing is very good.”
Saburo sighed. “I know. It does make sense, though, especially when people are so used to seeing them about. I did check out the Satake family. They’d come down in the world and, in my experience, people like that have a good deal of pride. After the parents died, the grandparents raised the two children. The girl’s name was Nariko, and the boy’s Narimitsu. Shokichi said Miyagi could read and write.”
“Didn’t do her much good,” Tora observed dryly. He still had trouble reading and his writing was nearly illegible.
Saburo gave him a look. “What I meant was the son must’ve hated having his sister earn their living on the street. It explains why she didn’t write her brother until it was too late.”
Genba asked, “You think he got her letter and came home only to find her dead? And then decided to kill Tokuzo?”
Saburo nodded.
“That would do it for me,” observed Tora. “But how do we prove it?”
Saburo said, “We must confront him. He’ll deny it, of course, but I don’t see another option.”
“All of us?” Genba asked, perhaps thinking of their errand and the waiting Ohiro.
“It’s best. If I’m right, he’s dangerous and will be desperate.”
Tora nodded. “Let’s go then. You know where he is?”
“At work.”
The Jade Arbor was doing a good business after hours. People usually came from work to relax before their evening rice and sleep. Or perhaps they planned a visit to the amusement quarter.
They paid their fee to the woman at the door and walked toward the steamy rooms with the communal tubs. Smaller rooms opened off the corridor, their doors either open or closed for privacy. The bathhouse offered specialized services and kept a staff of masseurs and attractive women for this purpose.
In a room with shelves and benches, they stripped, handed their clothing to the attendant, a youth wearing nothing but his loincloth, his skin beaded with moisture from the steam in the next room. He stared when he saw their scars and became very accommodating.
In a larger room filled with a hot white fog, three big wooden tubs served the bathers. Heads showed above their rims. Tora, Genba, and Saburo took small pails and bags of rice chaff from a shelf and crouched on the slatted wood floor to scrub themselves clean. Then they climbed into one of the tubs, muttering greetings to the two men who already soaked in the hot water.
Nearby was a tub full of chattering and giggling women, but their two companions were content to doze with their eyes closed.
Genba muttered, “This will be difficult.”
When Saburo said nothing and Tora merely grunted, Genba fell silent. They sat, letting the heat loosen their muscles and relax their tension.
The two men eventually left, and Tora said in a low voice, “We have to risk it, Genba. He’ll hardly agree to a meeting in some lonely grove someplace.”
“Then let’s get on with it,” said Genba, heaving his huge bulk out of the water.
The attendant brought dry hemp kimonos. They wrapped themselves into these and asked for the masseur.
“All of you with the same masseur?” asked the youngster.
“Yes. Bashan. He’s said to be the best. We’ll take turns.”
The boy directed them into one of the small rooms where a narrow raised platform awaited customers.
Saburo took off his kimono and lay face down on this, while Tora and Genba crouched against one of the walls.
After a short wait, they heard Bashan’s staff tapping along the corridor. The door was pushed open.
“Gentlemen?” Bashan asked, his half-closed eyes seeming to scan the room as he waited for a response. Saburo lay with his head turned to the wall.
Tora said, “There are three of us. You can start with my friend. We’ll take turns.”