“What samurai?” Hirata and the proprietor said in unison.
The waiter distributed bowls of rice and eel. “The one I saw in the alley when I took out the garbage. He threatened to spear me if I didn’t help him find the peddler. So I told him where the old man lived. He left in a hurry.” The waiter looked stricken. “Was that who killed him? I guess I did the wrong thing.”
“What did he look like?” Hirata asked.
“Older than you. An ugly fellow.” The waiter thrust out his jaw, scowling in imitation. “He hadn’t shaved, and even though his clothes were the kind gentlemen wear, they were dirty, like he’d been sleeping outside.”
Elation buoyed Hirata. The description of the man and his weapon matched Lieutenant Kushida, placing him in the area at the time of Choyei’s death; he could have donned the hood and cloak later, as a disguise. His potential as a suspect outweighed that of Lady Ichiteru. Hirata ate his food and thanked the proprietor and waiter with large tips. Leaving the restaurant, he sent a messenger to Edo Castle with orders to search for Kushida around Daikon Quay. Then he rode toward the marketplace where an assassin had almost felled Lady Harume with a dagger.
“I’ll show you where it happened,” said the priest in charge of security at Asakusa Kannon Temple. A former Edo Castle guard, he had the powerful features of an iron war mask and a vigor undiminished by the amputation of an injured left arm, which had ended his past career. Hirata had called on him to review the official account of the attack on Lady Harume. Now he and the priest left the temple and walked along Naka-mise-dori, the broad avenue that led from the main worship hall to the great vermilion Thunder Gate.
Asakusa, a suburb on the bank of the Sumida River, straddled the highway that led to all points north. Travelers often stopped to have refreshments and make offerings at the temple. This convenient location made Asakusa one of Edo ’s most popular entertainment districts. Noisy crowds thronged the precinct, gathering around stalls that sold plants, medicines, umbrellas, sweets, dolls, and ivory figurines. The scent of incense mingled with the toasty smell of Asakusa’s famous “thunder crackers,” made of millet, rice, and beans. Consulting a clothbound ledger, the priest halted outside a teahouse. Nearby, audiences cheered three acrobats who spun iron tops on the rims of their fans while balanced on a plank perched atop tall bamboo poles supported by a fourth man.
“According to Lady Harume’s statement, she was standing here, like this.” The priest positioned himself at the corner of the teahouse, just inside the adjacent alley and half-turned away from the street. “The dagger came from that direction”-he pointed diagonally across Naka-mise-dori-“and struck here.” He touched a narrow slit in the plank wall of the teahouse. “The blade pierced Lady Harume’s sleeve. Any closer, and she would have been seriously injured-or killed.”
“What happened to the weapon?” Hirata asked.
“I have it here.”
From the ledger, the priest took a paper-wrapped package. Hirata opened this and found a short dagger with a tapering, sharply pointed steel blade, the haft wrapped in black cotton cord. It was the sort of cheap weapon used by commoners, easily hidden beneath clothing or under the bed… and sold everywhere.
“I’ll keep this,” Hirata said, rewrapping the dagger and tucking it under his sash, though he had minimal hope of tracing the owner. “Were there any witnesses?”
“The people nearby were all looking in the other direction, at the acrobats. Lady Harume had become separated from her companions and was very upset. Either she saw nothing, or fright made her forget. Vendors down the street noticed a man in a dark cloak and hood running away.”
Hirata’s heart gave a thump of excitement. The attacker had worn the same disguise as Choyei’s killer!
“Unfortunately, no one got a good look at the culprit, and he escaped,” the priest said.
“How?” This surprised Hirata. The Asakusa security force usually maintained order and subdued troublemakers with admirable efficiency. “Didn’t anyone chase after him?”
“Yes, but the incident occurred on Forty-six Thousand Day,” the priest reminded Hirata.
Hirata nodded in glum comprehension. A visit to the temple on this summer holiday equalled forty-six thousand visits on ordinary days, incurring the equivalent in blessings. The precinct would have been jammed with pilgrims. Additional stalls selling Chinese lantern plants, whose fruit warded off the plague, would have hindered the pursuit, while the confusion allowed the would-be assassin to flee. Sighing, Hirata gazed up at the overshadowing bulk of the temple’s main hall, the tiered roofs of the two pagodas. He envisioned the shrines, gardens, cemeteries, other temples, and secondary marketplace within Asakusa Kannon’s precinct; the roads leading through the surrounding rice fields; the ferry landing and the river. There were countless places for a criminal to hide, and just as many avenues for escape. Lady Harume’s attacker had chosen both time and place well.
“Do you have any other information?” Hirata asked without much hope.
“Just the names of everyone in the Edo Castle party. I gathered the women and their escorts at the temple and took statements from them, according to routine procedure.”
He held out the ledger, and from the list of Harume’s fifty-three companions, one entry leapt out at Hirata: Lady Ichiteru. A sick feeling engulfed his stomach. Pointing to his erstwhile lover’s name, he said, “What did she tell you?”
The priest turned pages and found the statement. “Ichiteru said she was having tea alone down the street when she heard Lady Harume scream. She claimed not to know anything about the attack, or who might have been responsible.”
But Ichiteru was a liar with no alibi. When Harume survived, had Ichiteru resorted to poison? However, Hirata didn’t want to prove her guilt, not even for the sake of closing the case, or the satisfaction of seeing Ichiteru punished. The prospect of success and revenge lost appeal when he imagined living the rest of his life knowing he’d been tricked by a murderer.
“Let me see that list again.” Finding Lieutenant Kushida noted there, Hirata experienced great relief. Kushida fit the assassin’s general description. The dagger wasn’t his preferred weapon, but he might have chosen it because it was more easily concealed than a spear. “What was Kushida’s story?”
“He was so distraught over his failure to protect Lady Harume that I couldn’t determine his whereabouts during the attack,” said the priest.
“Had anyone else seen him?”
“No. They’d split up to escort various ladies around the precinct. Everyone assumed Kushida was with a different group.” The priest frowned. “I know the lieutenant from my days at Edo Castle. I had no reason to believe he was a suspect in the attack, or that he would become a fugitive from the law. Otherwise I would have tried to trace his movements. I’m sorry to be of so little help.”
“Not at all,” Hirata said. “You’ve told me what I wanted to know.”
He was convinced that the same man had flung the dagger at Lady Harume, poisoned her, and silenced Choyei. Lieutenant Kushida had had plenty of opportunity to commit the crimes, and no alibis. Hirata foresaw his triumphant return into Sano’s good graces and his own self respect.
All he had to do was find Lieutenant Kushida.
33
In the daimyo district, a party of soldiers escorting a lone palanquin halted outside the gate bearing a double- swan crest. The commander announced, “The wife of the shogun’s sosakan-sama wishes to call on Lord Miyagi.”
One of the Miyagi guards said, “Please wait while I inform the daimyo that he has a visitor.”
Inside the palanquin, Reiko trembled with happy excitement. Her detective career had truly begun. Earlier this morning, she’d talked to Eri, who had promised to arrange a meeting with Lady Ichiteru later. Now came her first chance to match wits with a murder suspect. How she hoped that Lord Miyagi was the killer, so she could have the triumph of proving it! As she waited, Reiko fidgeted with a box of sweets she’d brought as a courtesy gift to the Miyagi. Circumstance had provided her the perfect excuse to call on them. She could probe for dark secrets, and Lord Miyagi would never suspect her true purpose. Though Reiko tried to settle down and concentrate on the task ahead, a smile kept breaking out on her face, and not only because she’d achieved her dream.
Her first night with Sano had added new dimension to life. Despite the soreness between her legs, love had given her an exhilarating sense of physical and spiritual well-being. The world seemed full of tempting challenges,
