The Ninja's Daughter (18 page)

“And the river's too shallow and slow at this location,” Satsu added. “However, I know a place. There is a bathhouse around the corner—it closed about an hour ago.”

“You want to leave the body in a bathhouse?” Father Mateo asked.

“Trust me.” Satsu looked at Hiro. “My
other
work in Kyoto involves the disappearance of unwanted people—alive
and
dead.”

“Very well,” Hiro said. “Let's go.”

“I don't understand.” Father Mateo looked from one man to the other. “It doesn't seem appropriate to hide a samurai's body in a bathhouse.”

“I'll explain when we get there,” Satsu said. “Let's go—and don't forget his head.”

The bathhouse sat just east of the river, on a street whose businesses were closed and shuttered at this time of night. Despite the lack of passersby, Hiro and Satsu remained in the shadows as they carried the dōshin's body between them. Father Mateo followed with the head, holding it as far away from his body as he could manage.

“This way.” Satsu turned into a narrow passage between the bathhouse and the business next door.

A double line of trees separated the back of the building from the open common space at the center of the block. In daylight the trees offered privacy and enhanced the lovely setting for bathhouse patrons. In the darkness, they provided perfect cover for three men and a samurai's headless corpse.

Satsu paused in front of the undersized door that led to the bathhouse boiler room. “Set him down for a minute.”

Hiro helped the actor lower the body to the ground.

“What's going on?” Father Mateo whispered as Satsu opened the little door and ducked inside. “Isn't that where they . . .”

A rustling came from the boiler room, followed by a metallic creak. Sparks flared to life in the house's wood-burning oven as Satsu stirred the coals with a poker. The actor's silhouette blocked the glow as he tossed a handful of kindling into the oven. The sparks grew into flames.

Father Mateo's mouth fell open in horror. He shook his head, the motion barely visible in the shadows.

Satsu returned to the yard. The orange glow of tiny flames emerged from the darkened room beyond.

“As I hoped, the fire was banked but came to life at once with a little kindling.” Satsu extended his hands to the priest. “We'll start with the head.”

Father Mateo backed away.

“This isn't the time for argument,” Hiro whispered. “We have no choice.”

“The bathhouse owners will find him in the morning!” Father Mateo sounded close to panic. “The flames may burn his flesh, but not the bones.”

“The owners will bury the bones and ask no questions,” Satsu said. “Now hand it over.”

Father Mateo turned his face away and handed the dōshin's head to Satsu. When the burden left his hands, he made the sign of the cross and bowed his head to pray.

Satsu ducked into the boiler room and tossed the head into the fire. He added another handful of kindling; moments later the air was filled with the odors of scorching hair and burning flesh.

Father Mateo coughed and retched.

“The smell will attract attention,” Hiro said.

“Fortunately, this bath is known for its scented waters.” Satsu grabbed a fresh pine bough from a pile beside the boiler room. He tossed it onto the fire, and though the smoke that rose from the oven didn't completely hide the acrid, fatty smells of burning samurai, it did reduce the stench to a level that wouldn't raise alarm.

“One more problem,” Hiro said. “The body won't fit in the oven in this condition.”

Satsu reached inside his tunic and withdrew a wicked-looking dagger. “That's a problem I can solve. It's time for you to take the foreigner home.”

Father Mateo raised his head. “We cannot leave you here alone.”

“With respect, you also cannot stay.” Satsu turned to the priest. “One of my duties in Kyoto is handling inconvenient corpses. This is not my first dead samurai. I am better trained, and better able, to address this problem. I appreciate your sense of honor, but I promise your concern is quite misplaced.

“Please bring my daughter's coin to Fushimi Inari tomorrow morning. After that, we must not ever speak again.”

CHAPTER 33

Hiro and Father Mateo returned to the river and walked along the bank in silence. Discomfort dripped from the priest like heavy rain from a temple's eaves. Even so, Hiro did not speak. No words can change the things a man has seen.

Just before they reached the bridge at Marutamachi Road, Father Mateo said, “I do not blame you for killing him.”

“Blame me?” Hiro asked, surprised. “He would have killed us all.”

“I know that.” Father Mateo nodded. “I cannot thank you for taking a life, but I deeply appreciate you saving Satsu.”

“And you also.”

“I do not want you to kill on my behalf,” Father Mateo said.

“You know that's why I came to Kyoto: to guard your life at any cost.”

“Now that I have seen you kill, the cost is far too high.”

“It will happen again,” Hiro said, “and more than once, unless you leave the city.”

Father Mateo struggled for words. “Perhaps it is you who should leave. Alone.”

“That, I cannot and will not do. The oath I took can be broken only by death—either yours or mine.”

“An oath you made to a man we do not know, whose motives I cannot understand.” The Jesuit shook his head. “I release you from that oath.”

“Only death can release me,” Hiro said. “Once given, this oath cannot be retracted.”

“Doesn't it bother you? Pledging your life at the request of a man you do not know?”

“On behalf of a man I have come to know quite well.” Hiro paused. “But, to answer your question, no. Hattori Hanzo trusted your benefactor enough to accept the contract and to honor his request for anonymity. I accepted Hanzo's judgment on the matter—this is not the first such contract I've fulfilled.”

The question that followed was not what Hiro expected.

“Why did you lie to Satsu about the coin? You know I have it with me.”

Hiro found the Jesuit's change of subject interesting. Samurai used the tactic to avoid a fight with important family members or lifelong friends.

He honored the priest's decision to leave the previous topic at an impasse. “I found it strange, and also suspicious, that Satsu asked us to stop the investigation. I wanted time to think before I had to return the coin.”

The samurai on guard at the bridge stood halfway across the span, in order to watch both sides of the river effectively. He nodded, but did not approach, as Hiro and Father Mateo turned onto Marutamachi Road.

The wind sent a cluster of fallen leaves swirling across the road like tiny specters. In the distance, a dog began to bark.

Hiro and Father Mateo walked in silence until they reached Okazaki Shrine.

There, a priestess stood beside the torii. She held a basket of amulets, and nearby braziers cast their flickering light across her face. The priestess bowed. “Good evening.”

“And to you.” Father Mateo nodded as he passed.

Hiro wondered if the Jesuit knew the woman's name. They passed her at the gate quite often, but the priest had never stopped to talk.

After they left the shrine behind them, Father Mateo said, “Yuji must have killed her.”

“Emi?” Hiro asked.

“Yes, it must be him. He worried that Emi would damage his reputation and career, but he also couldn't break his betrothal to Chou. I think he went to the river and took care of the problem . . . personally.”

“How do the coin and the missing mask fit into that scenario?” Hiro asked.

“Unrelated,” Father Mateo said. “I think Botan sold the mask to pay the samurai's demand, or gave it to him as a partial payment. I don't know how the coin fits in—or doesn't, as the case may be—but Yuji had the motive, and the chance, to kill the girl.”

“That doesn't make him a murderer,” Hiro said. “He's an actor—and a selfish fool—but a crime like this is probably beyond him.”

“You don't know much about actors, do you?” Father Mateo asked.

Hiro wasn't used to hearing his own expressions turned against him. “And you do?”

“As it happens, yes.”

“How does a priest know anything about actors?”

Father Mateo glanced at Hiro. “Because I almost became one.”

CHAPTER 34

“An actor?” Hiro couldn't believe it. “You planned to become an actor?”

Questions flooded Hiro's mind, making him realize just how little he knew about Father Mateo. He had never considered the priest as anything more, or less, than his current self.

“We were speaking of Yuji,” the Jesuit said.

“Not anymore. What changed your mind about acting?”

Father Mateo shrugged. “Things happened, and I chose another path.” His tone suggested he had no intention of answering further questions. “Now, about Yuji.”

Hiro put the Jesuit's past aside for the moment. “I agree that he had a motive to murder Emi. However, that answer seems too simple.”

“Murder doesn't have to be complicated,” Father Mateo said.

“It usually isn't,” Hiro agreed, “but your solution doesn't account for the mask or the coin. Even a simple explanation must incorporate all of the relevant facts.”

“Unless the coin and mask are not connected to the crime,” the Jesuit said.

“True.” Hiro nodded. “We're missing too many facts to know for certain.”

“What if Emi saw the samurai leave the Yutoku-za with the mask, and he saw her too, and followed her to the river. When she ran into Jiro, the samurai waited until the boy fell asleep and then approached her.”

“She wouldn't have gone with him,” Hiro said. “Why would she walk away from Jiro with someone she didn't trust? Especially if she saw him taking something of value from her home?”

“Maybe she knew him,” Father Mateo suggested.

“Actors' daughters do not follow samurai so quickly. Also, Emi would have gone with the killer only if she knew that Jiro wouldn't object to seeing them together. Otherwise, she would not risk him waking . . .”

“Those facts point to Yuji as the killer,” Father Mateo said. “She knew him, and Jiro could hardly object to Emi speaking with her sister's betrothed.”

“Those facts condemn the entire Yutoku-za—except for Haru, who lacked the physical strength to kill his sister,” Hiro said.

“We can eliminate the women, also.” Father Mateo seemed annoyed.

“Perhaps the older ones,” Hiro said. “But all of this means nothing. We must leave the city—now—before the yoriki learns about the dōshin's disappearance and before that merchant comes to replace Luis.”

“Satsu is family.” Father Mateo sounded disappointed. “How can you turn your back on his distress?”

“He released us,” Hiro said, “and even if he hadn't, duty supersedes a family obligation. As you so recently pointed out, I swore an oath to keep you alive, and I hold it just as sacred as you hold the vows you make to your god.”

Father Mateo had drawn a breath, but released it without speaking.

Hiro pressed his advantage. “Would your god have sent me to guard you if he wanted you to die? Strategic retreat is not surrender. Sometimes it offers the only path to victory.”

“Yes, but—”

Hiro raised a hand for silence. With the other, he pointed down the darkened road.

Across the street from the Jesuit's home, the neighbor's Akita barked with a fury far too great for wind or shadows.

Father Mateo whispered, “Is something wrong?”

“The dog started barking when we made the turn from the river road.” Hiro strained his eyes, but saw no movement in the shadows. “It hasn't stopped.”

“Most likely just the wind and fallen leaves,” Father Mateo said.

“That doesn't explain it barking so intensely for so long.” Hiro stopped walking. “We should turn back.”

“It's probably nothing,” the Jesuit said, “and if it's not, we can't abandon Ana and Luis.”

Luis, I could leave
, Hiro thought. Aloud, he added, “I cannot let you walk into danger.”

“I am neither an invalid nor a child,” Father Mateo said, “and only a coward runs away from danger.”

Hiro scowled. “If you were any other man, that insult would have cost your life.”

“If you were any other man, I would have held my tongue.” Father Mateo took a step forward. “I'm going to check on Ana. You can come with me, or not, as it suits you.”

He continued toward home at a rapid walk.

Hiro followed with an angry sigh. As he caught up, he laid a hand on the Jesuit's arm. “Please stop.”

To his surprise, Father Mateo obeyed.

Hiro drew his katana and handed the longsword to the priest. “Take this. It seems you've forgotten to bring your own.”