General Isogai nodded. “Then the assassin must be a holdout from the opposition. But you don’t think he’s in league with Senior Elders Kato and Ihara and their gang, do you?” Incredulity came over his face. “They’re big on playing politics, but I can’t believe they have the stomach for something as risky as multiple assassination.”
“Kato and Ihara aren’t in the clear yet,” Sano said, “but I have another theory, which I’ll get to in a moment. The second thing I’ve learned about the assassin is that he’s an expert not only at the mystic martial arts, but also at stealth.”
“He had to be, to sneak inside your compound and get right next to you,” General Isogai agreed.
“If he could manage that, he could get into the castle from the outside,” Sano said. “He wouldn’t need to be someone on the inside.”
General Isogai scowled, resisting the notion that the castle’s mighty defenses could be breached, but he said, “I suppose it’s possible.”
“So who is an expert at stealth and belongs to the opposition? I’m thinking in particular of Yanagisawa’s elite squadron of troops.”
Those troops had been masters of stealth and highly trained martial artists, whom Yanagisawa had employed to keep himself in power. They’d been suspected of past political assassinations of Yanagisawa’s enemies, but never caught: They covered their tracks too well.
Surprise raised General Isogai’s eyebrows. “I knew they were a dangerous breed, but I never heard that they could kill with a touch.”
“If they could, they’d have kept it secret.” A disturbing thought struck Sano. “I wonder how many deaths there have been over the years that appeared natural but were actually assassinations ordered by Yanagisawa.” But Sano couldn’t do much about that now. “The reason I came here is to ask you what happened to Yanagisawa’s elite squadron after he was deposed.”
“You’ve come to the right place.”
General Isogai walked to a chart, mounted on the wall, that displayed a list of thirty names. Eighteen had red lines drawn through them; notations were scribbled in the margins. Sano did not recognize any of the names.
“They kept a low profile,” General Isogai said. “They used aliases when they traveled around. It made their movements hard to track.” He pointed at the names crossed out in red. “These men died in the battle when we raided Yanagisawa’s house. My men killed half of them. The rest committed suicide rather than be taken prisoner. But the other twelve weren’t on the premises at the time, and they escaped. Capturing them has been a high priority because we think they’re leaders in the underground movement and responsible for attacks on the army.”
Sano was glad to have new suspects, but daunted by the thought of hunting down twelve. “Have you caught any yet?”
“These five.” General Isogai tapped the names. “We got a lucky break last winter. Nabbed one of their underlings. Tortured him until he told us where to find them. Staked out their hideaway, took them, and executed them.”
“That narrows the field,” Sano said, relieved. If he had only two days to catch the assassin before he died, he would have to work fast. “Have you had any leads on the others?”
“These last seven are the craftiest of the bunch. It’s as if they really are ghosts. We move in on them, and-” General Isogai snatched at the air, then opened his empty hands. “All we’ve had lately are a few possible sightings, by informants who aren’t too reliable.”
He opened a ledger on his desk and ran his finger down a column of characters. “They were all at teahouses around town. Some were places where Yanagisawa’s men used to drink before the war. I’ll copy out the names and locations for you, along with the names of the seven elite troops who are still fugitives.” General Isogai dipped a brush in ink and wrote on a paper, which he blotted then handed to Sano.
“Many thanks,” Sano said, hoping that he now had the assassin’s name and the key to his whereabouts.
“If the Ghost is one of Yanagisawa’s squadron, I wish you better luck catching him than we’ve had,” said the general.
They bowed, and as Sano turned to leave, General Isogai said, “By the way, should you and your men go up against those devils, be careful. During the raid on Yanagisawa’s house, the eighteen of them killed thirty-six of my soldiers before they were defeated. They’re dangerous.”
Sardonic amusement glittered in General Isogai’s eyes. “But maybe you already know that from personal experience.”
23
It was past noon, and the sun had vaporized the mist, when Reiko left the hinin settlement after a search for Yugao. No one there had seen the woman since she’d been arrested. Discouraged yet determined, Reiko traveled to the Ryogoku Hirokoji entertainment district.
Escorted by Lieutenant Asukai and her other guards, she walked down the noisy, crowded avenue. She thought of Police Commissioner Hoshina and looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was following her. As she wondered whom to ask first about Yugao, wind rattled lanterns on the stalls. Tassels ripped from armor during a fight swirled with dust along the ground. A mass of storm clouds bled across the sky like ink on wet paper. Warm rain showered upon Reiko. She and her escorts, and the hundreds of pleasure seekers, hurried beneath the roofs of the stalls. The wind swept the rain in sheets that drenched the empty avenue; puddles spread. The stall where Reiko and her guards found shelter offered cheap toys as prizes for rolling balls up a ramp through holes. One other person had found shelter here: One man-and a monkey that he held on a leash.
The monkey screeched at Reiko. It wore a miniature suit of armor, helmet, and swords. Her guards laughed. She was so surprised to see a monkey that she hardly noticed its master until he said, “Pardon my friend’s bad manners.”
Now Reiko saw that he was as remarkable as his companion. He was no taller than herself, with coarse, shaggy black hair that covered his head, face, arms, and legs. Beady eyes met Reiko’s shocked gaze; sharp teeth grinned beneath his whiskers. To her further amazement, she recognized him.
“Are you the Rat?” she said.
“That’s me. At your service, pretty lady.”
“We have a mutual acquaintance,” Reiko said. “His name is Hirata, and he’s the shogun’s sosakan-sama.” Hirata had told her that the Rat hailed from the northern island of Hokkaido, famous for its natives who had copious body hair. He traded in information that he picked up while traveling around Japan in search of new freaks for the show he operated in the entertainment district across the river, and he was an informant of Hirata’s.
“Oh, yes,” the Rat said. He spoke in a strange, gruff, rustic accent. “I heard that Hirata-sanwas cut up in a fight. How’s he doing?”
“Better,” said Reiko.
Her guards tried to pet the monkey. It drew its tiny sword and lashed out at them. They fell back, laughing. The Rat scrutinized Reiko with curiosity. “Who are you?” Reiko remembered that she must keep a low profile, but before she could make up a false identity the Rat pointed a hairy finger at her. “Don’t tell me. You must be Lady Reiko, the chamberlain’s wife.”
“How did you know?” Reiko said, chagrined.
“The Rat gets around,” he said with a wise look.
“Please don’t tell anyone you saw me here,” Reiko said.
The Rat winked and put his finger to his lips. “I don’t tell tales on my friends, and any friend of Hirata-san’s is a friend of mine. What’s a fine lady like you doing here, anyway?”
Reiko’s spirits lifted. “I’m looking for someone. Maybe you can help me.”
“Be glad to, and for you, I’ll waive my usual fee. Who is it?”
“A woman named Yugao. She escaped from Edo Jail yesterday.” Reiko described Yugao. “Have you seen her?”
The Rat shook his head. “Sorry. But I’ll keep an eye out.” His monkey screeched, waving its sword at Reiko’s guards, who had drawn their swords and were fighting a playful battle with it. “Hey, don’t hurt him!” the Rat said,
