‘Malt,’ Tora reminded her.
She looked confused. ‘You mean a place that sells malt? Or a brewery?’
‘I don’t know. It’s got to be someplace where they either work or live.’
‘Them, work?’ She snorted. ‘Never. They’re thieves and robbers.’ Seeing Tora’s impatient face, she thought. ‘About six blocks west of here are warehouses. Some belong to breweries. They’re supposed to be watched, but a lot of scum hang out around there. Some of the warehouses are empty.
‘Where?’ Tora had his hand on the door.
She described the place where he had almost got a knife in his back.
He nodded. ‘Wish me luck.’
He covered the distance at a steady trot, fearing already that he would find the bloodied corpse of Jirokichi in some corner among garbage and at the mercy of wild dogs. Then he would have to go back and tell Hoshina. He had not been very good at saving lives lately.
When he reached the alley – for the third time – he sniffed the air. Yes, there was the unmistakable, if faint, smell of malt. Glancing first one way, then the other, he decided that the most likely warehouse was near the middle of the block and on the right side. The Fragrant Peach was just down the road and around the corner. Tora decided to have a look at the warehouse first.
He walked down the deserted lane, which was little more than two weedy ruts where an occasional cart had passed.
The warehouses were long, low buildings, their flat roofs made of boards weighted down by large stones. The fourth building was the one with the malt smell. It looked abandoned, its chained gate leaning drunkenly, the access unmarked by wheels. The fence was unbroken, but the gate gave enough to allow a man to slip in and out.
Tora pushed it cautiously and peered inside. The warehouse lay still in the afternoon sun, its doors closed. It was hot in the barren yard, and flies buzzed nearby. Tora did not like the idea of flies. He shuddered and withdrew his head. The dust around his feet showed the footprints of people going in and out, some in shoes and some barefoot. Then he saw something else: a small brown spot in the pale dirt. And there was another a few feet away. He bent down, licked a finger and touched the spot. A sniff verified his suspicion: someone had dripped blood here.
He studied the tracks more closely. Among the footprints he found some straight lines – double lines, as if from someone’s feet being dragged through the dust. The lines came from the street and passed into the warehouse yard. He had found the place. Jirokichi had been brought here, probably alive but bleeding.
Tora considered the situation. He was alone and did not know how many of the bastards he would have to deal with. It was unlikely that there would be only two of them; the place looked like a hang-out for the whole gang. He did not dare check more closely, because they might have put out a guard. And he could not hang about outside on this deserted road either, in case one or the other decided to leave or come back.
Torn between the urgency of saving Jirokichi and his promise to Hanae to be careful, he chose duty to his family. He walked quickly to the Fragrant Peach.
By now the hour for the midday rice was past, and the place was dimly lit and empty of customers. The fire in the hearth had been banked, and the heavy cauldron was gone. Only the girl was there, sweeping the dirt floor.
‘Well met, pretty flower,’ Tora called out, hoping to overcome her hostility with charm. ‘Where do I find the local warden?’
She glowered at him. ‘We’re not open.’
‘Oh, come, you can answer a simple question.’
‘No time. Go away.’
Tora stood his ground. ‘How about your boyfriend, then?’
She flushed and cast a glance towards the back door. ‘I have no boyfriend,’ she snapped.
Tora grinned. So, the young scamp was hiding out back there, probably just biding his time before jumping her again. Boys his age never thought of anything but sex. ‘I saw you two together. You were very friendly to him in the alley outside.’
She stopped working and stared at him.
‘Maybe this is something you do on the side for money and to keep customers happy.’
With a shriek of fury, she raised the broom and rushed him. Tora jumped up easily, sidestepped her with a laugh, and caught her round the middle with one arm, while he twisted the broom from her fingers with the other. She struggled and spat in his face. Tora dropped the broom and gave her a good shake. ‘All right, my girl,’ he said. ‘Enough of this nonsense. Someone’s in bad trouble and I need help. It’s either the warden or Tojiro.’
She stopped fighting him. Holding on to her, Tora swung about and found himself face to face with the gray- haired deaf mute.
Her daddy.
Carrying the cauldron.
Tora saw the coiled-up violence in the man’s eyes and knew it was about to explode like a volcano. The brute’s right hand started swinging the cauldron.
Tora released the girl so suddenly that she almost fell. She staggered away from him, leaving nothing but air between Tora and the volcano. The man’s right arm moved back. Tora scooted away a couple of steps. ‘No,’ he shouted at the top of his voice. ‘Don’t. I came for help.’
No use shouting at a deaf mute.
Daddy measured the distance and adjusted his aim. Tora took another step back and was up against a wall. Seeing the black cauldron coming at him, he pleaded with the girl, ‘Tell him Jirokichi’s in trouble.’
To his surprise – he had not expected it to work – her father stopped the swing of the ugly weapon and turned to his daughter. She gestured while he looked from her to Tora and frowned. Then he set the cauldron down to respond.
Tora took a shuddering breath.
She said, ‘He wants to know what this is about.’
Tora explained, still doubtful that it would make a difference. She translated, and her father’s face grew longer and he clenched his fists. Tora became nervous again, but the big man only gave him a sharp look, then nodded, and ran out the back door with surprising speed.
The daughter eyed Tora without much favor. ‘How come you know Jirokichi?’
Tora explained about how they had met, then asked, ‘Where did your father go?’
‘To get his friends. Come on,’ she said. ‘They’ll meet us there.’ She started for the door.
He caught her arm. ‘No, you’d better stay here. There’ll be a nasty fight. It’s not safe for a girl.’
She shook his hand off, glaring. ‘Shut up.’
With a sigh, he tagged along behind her. It would make things more difficult, having to look out for a slip of a girl. Still, he liked her spirit. But when he saw that she knew the way to the warehouse, he became uneasy again. He was confused by the strange relationships between Jirokichi, the girl, her deaf mute father, Tojiro, and the arson gang.
When they reached the leaning gate, there was no sign of reinforcements. She turned to him. ‘We wait,’ she said.
Tora eyed her suspiciously. It was beginning to feel like a trap. ‘Why is your dad willing to help Jirokichi?’ he asked.
‘Jirokichi’s our friend.’ After a short pause, she asked, ‘Why do you keep coming and making trouble for me?’
‘Kids have been setting fires. I think those young bastards that have Jirokichi are the ones. And your boyfriend’s one of them.’
Her eyes had widened with surprise, but now she flared up. ‘That’s a fucking lie!’
‘Nice language for a young lady.’
She raised her chin. ‘You sound just like Tojiro. So what? I’m no lady, and Tojiro loves me anyway. But he’d never hang out with them.’
‘Then why do I keep finding him with them every time there’s a fire?’
‘I don’t believe you. And what makes you think they’re the ones setting the fires?’
