“But I have combat skills and experience that boys don’t have. I have a head start on them.”
“More likely you’ve learned so many mistakes that it would take years to retrain you.”
Hirata was frantic not to let this opportunity slip away. “Please,” he said, struggling to his feet and grabbing Ozuno’s arm, “I need you to teach me. You’re my only hope that I’ll ever be able to fight again. Unless I learn your secrets, I’ll always be helpless, a target for attacks, the object of everyone’s scorn.” He flung his arms wide, the better for Ozuno to see the crippled wreckage of his body. On the verge of tears, ashamed to beg, he said, “I’ll fail in my duty to my master and my lord. Unless you help me, I’ll lose my honor as well as my livelihood!”
Ozuno regarded him with merciless contempt. “You want knowledge for the wrong reasons. You want to learn a few techniques, win fights, satisfy your pride, and gain material rewards, rather than honor and preserve our ancient traditions. Your needs are no concern of mine. They certainly don’t qualify you to enter our society.” He waved his hand impatiently. “But this discussion is pointless. Even if you were the ideal candidate, I could not train you. I swore off teaching when Kobori went bad. Never again will I risk creating another amoral killer.”
Although the priest’s tone said his decision was final, Hirata was too desperate to give up. “But fate brought me to you,” he cried. “You’re meant to be my teacher. It’s our destiny!”
“Destiny, eh?” Ozuno laughed with sardonic ill humor. “Well, if it is, I suppose I can’t escape it. I’ll make you a deal: If we should meet again, we’ll begin your lessons.”
“Fine,” Hirata said. Edo was small enough that he was sure to see the priest again.
Ozuno sneered as he read Hirata’s thoughts. He said, “Not if I see you first,” then limped out of the cemetery. In the road, he merged with a flock of pilgrims and vanished.
28
Reiko knocked on the gate outside the mansion where Yugao’s friend Tama worked. A woman with gray hair and a cross face opened it and said, “Yes?”
“I want to see Tama,” Reiko said, so urgently that her voice trembled.
“You mean the kitchen maid?” Curiosity sharpened the woman’s gaze. “Who are you?” After Reiko introduced herself, the woman said, “Tama isn’t here.”
Reiko almost wept with disappointment. If Sano was doomed to die soon, finding Yugao might be the last thing she could do for him. “Where is Tama?”
“The cook sent her to the fish market. I’m the housekeeper. Can I help you?”
“I don’t think so. When will Tama be back?” As she realized that she would never be able to find the girl in the huge, crowded fish market, Reiko tried to stay calm. Falling apart wouldn’t help Sano.
“Oh, she’ll probably be gone for hours,” the housekeeper said, studying Reiko with avid interest. “Why are you so eager to see her? What’s she done?”
“Maybe nothing,” Reiko said. Her hunch that Tama had withheld important information from her yesterday might be mere wishful thinking. Yet Reiko couldn’t give up; Tama was her only lead to Yugao. “On second thought, maybe you can help me. Have you noticed anything strange about Tama recently?”
The housekeeper frowned in thought, then said, “As a matter of fact I have. The day before yesterday, she left the house without permission. The mistress scolded her and beat her. That’s not like Tama. Usually she’s such a meek, obedient little thing, never breaks any rules.”
Reiko cautioned herself against hoping too much. “Why did Tama leave?”
“It was because of that girl who came to see her.”
“What girl?” Reiko held her breath as her hope ran wild and her heart began to race.
“She said her name was Yugao.”
Such glad relief overwhelmed Reiko that the breath rushed out of her; she clutched the gatepost for support. “Tell me everything that happened when Yugao came! It’s very important!”
“Well, she showed up at the back gate,” the housekeeper said, clearly enjoying Reiko’s attention and wanting to draw out her story. “She asked for Tama. When I asked who she was, she wouldn’t tell me anything except her name and that she was an old friend of Tama’s. The servants aren’t supposed to have visitors, but I feel sorry for Tama because she’s alone in the world, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to let her see a friend just once. So I fetched Tama.
“At first she was so happy to see Yugao. She hugged her and cried and said how much she’d missed her. But then they started talking. Tama started to look worried.”
“What did they say?” Reiko clenched her fingernails into her palms.
“I don’t know what Yugao said. She was whispering. Tama said, ‘No. I can’t. I’ll get in trouble.’ ”
Now Reiko understood why Tama had acted so upset when Reiko had told her that her childhood friend was a murderess and fugitive. Yugao must have invented some other story to explain why she’d turned up needing help from Tama.
“But Yugao kept talking,” the housekeeper said, “and she wore Tama down. Finally Tama said, ‘All right. Come with me.’ They ran off together.”
“Was there a man with them?” Reiko asked eagerly.
“Not that I saw.”
Yet Reiko felt certain that the Ghost had been lurking somewhere in their vicinity. When he and Yugao had left the Jade Pavilion, they’d needed another place to hide. She must have thought of Tama, the one person who might be persuaded to do her a favor. And Reiko was just as certain that Yugao wouldn’t have abandoned the man she’d loved so obsessively.
The housekeeper leaned close to Reiko and whispered, “I didn’t tell the mistress that Tama stole a basket of food from the pantry before they left.”
“Where did they go?” Reiko demanded.
“I don’t know. When Tama got home, I asked her, but she wouldn’t tell me.”
“How long was she gone?”
“Let me think.” The housekeeper tapped her finger against her withered cheek. “It was near dark when she left. She barely made it back before the neighborhood gates closed.”
Reiko’s hopes plunged; Tama could have covered a considerable distance, even on foot and weighed down with provisions, between early evening and late night. That left an appallingly wide area to search for the place where Tama had hidden Yugao and the Ghost.
“Thank you for your help,” Reiko said, turning to leave.
“Shall I tell Tama you were here?” the housekeeper said. “Shall I tell her you’ll come back?”
Need begot inspiration. Reiko thought of the food Tama had stolen, and a new strategy kindled her hopes. “No,” she called as she hurried toward her palanquin and guards, “please don’t tell Tama.”
But she would be back. And then she would discover exactly where Yugao and the Ghost were hiding.
Sano stopped at metsuke headquarters for the dossier on Kobori; it included his approximate height and weight and a poorly drawn sketch of his face. After visiting General Isogai, from whom he commandeered army troops to serve as search teams, Sano rushed to the palace.
The instant he walked into the audience chamber, he knew he was in even more trouble than he’d expected. Lord Matsudaira, seated in his customary place, wore such a fierce scowl that he resembled a carved demon in a temple. Above him on the dais, the shogun cowered, frightened and baffled. Yoritomo, who sat beside the shogun, aimed a warning glance at Sano. The guards stationed along the walls stood perfectly still, gazing straight ahead, as though afraid to move. The elders were absent. In their place on the raised floor sat Police Commissioner Hoshina, who regarded Sano with cool, half-smiling composure.
Sano’s steps faltered at the sight of his enemy. As he knelt below the dais at the shogun’s left and bowed, Lord Matsudaira demanded, “What in hell took you so long?”
“I had urgent business to attend to,” Sano said even though he knew that no excuse was good enough for Lord Matsudaira. What had happened in less than two days to sink him in Lord Matsudaira’s esteem and raise Hoshina? Sano doubted that it was only because Lord Matsudaira had heard about his failed attempt to capture the Ghost last night; after all, Hoshina hadn’t done any better. “A thousand apologies.”
