Betrayal at Iga Page 13

  He pushed the maudlin thought aside. Midori would not join his father and his elder brother on the list of people Hiro grieved. Hopefully, she had not killed Yajiro. If she had, he only hoped that Father Mateo would forgive whatever Hiro had to do to save his mother’s life.

  The door to Midori’s house swung open. Kiku appeared with a folded towel in her hands.

  Hiro bowed.

  She bowed in return and raised her towel. “Midori mentioned the bathhouse in Iga is open for women this afternoon. Would you mind showing me the way?”

  Neither her tone nor her bearing seemed suggestive, so Hiro took the question at face value. “Wouldn’t you prefer a female escort?”

  She looked him up and down. “Do you plan to assault me?”

  “No, but . . .” Hiro trailed off as his cheeks grew warm.

  Kiku slipped on her sandals. “No one else in Iga is likely to bother me either, with an escort, and I trust you more than I trust your mother or your former lover.”

  Hiro wanted to deny the allegation about Neko, but protest would only make it seem more true. “The shortest route to the bathhouse runs directly through the forest, but the path is less secluded.”

  She glanced at the dagger hanging from her obi. “The shorter route is fine with me.”

  Hiro started north into the forest. Kiku fell in step beside him, stride and bearing suggesting a woman unafraid. He resisted the urge to talk, hoping the kunoichi would break the silence with useful or revealing information.

  After several minutes, Hiro realized—to his discomfort—that he found her presence strangely pleasant. To many people, silence felt oppressive, a void that needed filling. Kiku seemed to feel no such concern.

  Deep in the forest, Hiro heard a crackling noise and stopped to identify the sound. Kiku crouched and scanned the trees, as if prepared for an attack.

  Hiro pointed to the base of a nearby maple. “There,” he whispered, “do you see it?”

  Kiku nodded as a smile drained the tension from her face. “Tanuki.”

  The knee-high, doglike animal watched them cautiously, glittering eyes surrounded by a mask of charcoal-colored fur. Its fuzzy ears pricked forward as it hesitated, wary of the humans. Slowly, the creature raised its muzzle and sniffed the air in their direction. Smelling nothing noteworthy, it waddled off through the fallen leaves.

  Hiro watched it go. Only after the animal disappeared into the forest did he realize that Kiku made no move to hurry him along.

  “You like them, too?” he asked.

  “My grandfather called them ‘hairy gods of the forest,’” she replied. “He said the tanuki would bring us luck as long as we let it go its way in peace.”

  “And if you didn’t?”

  She laughed. “Complete disaster—isn’t that how all old stories end for a foolish man?”

  “Not just the old ones.” Hiro started walking.

  Once again, she matched his pace. “It is Fuyu and Toshi who insist that we leave for Koga in the morning. I wanted to keep my word and give you the full three days to investigate, but they overruled me.”

  “Hattori Hanzō has agreed to meet with your delegation tonight, an hour before sunset.”

  “I knew he would,” she said. “By custom, he could not refuse. That’s why I decided to risk the bath. I assumed our meeting would occur tonight, and I have no intention of attending a formal meeting smelling of archery practice and filthy socks.”

  Hiro found that curious. “Then you consider this meeting more important than the feast?”

  Her levity faded. “I hope you plan to identify Yajiro’s killer at the meeting. I would rather not return to Koga without an adequate explanation.”

  “Will his death create unrest within the Koga ryu?” Hiro asked.

  She gave him a sidelong look. “That’s not the answer I expected.” After a moment, she continued, “I cannot guess the impact Yajiro’s death will have on the ryu. But you know I would not tell you, even if I could. Which begs another question: what do you hope to learn from me?”

  Hiro opted for the truth. “Anything to help me find the killer.”

  “If I knew who killed Yajiro, that man—or woman—would be dead already.” She hugged the towel to her chest.

  “You thought of him as more than just a friend.” Hiro studied her closely.

  She stared ahead into the trees. “He was to me as Neko is to you.”

  Hiro thought of the scars beneath his kimono. “Please forgive me, but I doubt that.”

  “Yajiro and I had not been close for several years,” she said. “We were close, once, but our relationship became . . . impossible. He changed, and we could not continue as we were before. At the time of his death, he was a friend, but nothing more. He asked me to join this delegation because he trusted me.”

  And that, Hiro thought, is precisely why your relationship was nothing like mine with Neko.

  “Why did Koga send emissaries who disagreed with the alliance?”

  “To ensure all opinions were represented. The clans agreed to abide by whatever decision the delegation reached.”

  “Did Koga truly think you’d reach a unanimous decision?”

  “We would have,” Kiku said, “had Fuyu’s clan not tried to subvert the outcome.”

  CHAPTER 30

  “Fuyu’s clan?” Hiro wondered if Kiku told the truth, or if her openness was merely a deception. “What did they do?”

  “They insisted on sending Toshi.”

  “Two men from a single clan?” Hiro asked.

  “Fuyu and Toshi come from separate clans, although they are related. My clan objected, as did the Koga, but Fuyu’s father persuaded several smaller clans to take his side. In the end we had to agree, or they would have blocked the delegation altogether.”

  “Toshi clearly lacks experience.” From the beginning, Hiro had thought it strange that the Koga leadership would send him, even with politics in play.

  “He just completed an assignment in Mikawa Province, where he helped assassinate an important target. He survived, although his mentor died, which proves he has some skills. The problem is he lacks the age and fortitude to hold his ground against Fuyu. I fear, with Yajiro dead, the proposed alliance will not prevail.”

  She sounded sorry, but Hiro suspected otherwise. Fortunately, her comments also gave him the chance to test her.

  “Yajiro’s death made Toshi change his mind about the alliance,” Hiro lied. “He told the priest, in confidence, that he intends to vote in favor of it.”

  Kiku stopped walking. “Are you certain?”

  “He believes Hattori Hanzō is not responsible for Yajiro’s death.”

  “As it happens, I agree with him about Hattori-sama,” Kiku said.

  “You do?” Hiro hadn’t expected that.

  “Hanzō would have killed us all, not just Yajiro. Only a fool would murder one and leave the rest of us alive, and Hattori-sama is no fool.” Kiku stepped around a stone that jutted upward through the fallen leaves. “If he wanted us dead, he would have arranged an ambush on the road, near the border, and blamed our deaths on the daimyō he wants to lose in the coming war. That way he would obtain his alliance and also ensure that Koga attacks the samurai lord he wants eliminated.”

  As he listened, Hiro realized she was correct. That was precisely what Hanzō would have done. “So, if not him, who killed Yajiro?”

  “I already told you, I don’t know.”

  They crossed over a well-worn footpath. “Make a guess.”

  “You will not like it,” Kiku said. “The welcome tea Neko brought us was sencha, of the type and grade that almost poisoned us this morning.”

  “You didn’t say so earlier.” Hiro realized where this was headed.

  “I wanted to be certain before making such a serious accusation. After you left, I inspected the remains of the poisoned tea in your mother’s home. It is the same.”

  “Sencha is a common tea.”

  “Poisoned sencha is far
less common.”

  They emerged from the trees and entered the clearing where the wooden bathhouse sat adjacent to the river. Today, an indigo noren hung in the doorway. Large white characters reading “BATHHOUSE” ran down the left-hand panel, while the one on the right bore a single character: “WOMEN.”

  As he read the panels, Hiro realized with disappointment that he’d missed his chance for a bath. It hadn’t occurred to him on the way, but since the bathhouse alternated between the genders at different times, one in the morning, the other at afternoon, the time for men to take a bath was over for the day.

  Kiku’s voice snapped Hiro back to the moment. “I trust your emotional bond with Neko will not interfere with your duty to reveal Yajiro’s murderer.”

  “I assure you,” he replied, “that bond was broken long ago. I will catch the killer before you leave for Koga.”

  “Good luck with that.” She started toward the bathhouse. “You may leave. I’ll find my own way back.”

  A few minutes later, Hiro knocked at the entrance to Hanzō’s mansion.

  As he hoped, Akiko answered the door.

  “Good afternoon, Grandmother.” Hiro bowed.

  “It would have been nicer without a hostile kunoichi stalking through my kitchen,” she replied, “but not even an elderly woman gets any peace when strangers come to town.”

  “Which kunoichi?” Hiro asked.

  “The Koga woman.” Akiko sniffed in disapproval. “She showed up right after you left this morning, demanding to see where I stored the tea we sent to the guesthouse yesterday.”

  “Hanzō allowed it?” Hiro found that difficult to believe.

  Akiko’s wrinkles deepened into a frown that almost hid her eyes. “His grandfather would not have approved, but Hanzō-kun will do things his own way.”

  “Will you show me what Kiku looked at?”

  “The two of you are on a first-name basis?” Akiko’s wrinkles parted in a grin. “Does Neko know?”

  “That isn’t funny, Grandmother.”

  “Not to you, perhaps.” She led him through the house, still grinning.

  Hiro followed her through the maze of passages and covered walks until they reached the kitchen. Unlike the rest of the mansion, the cooking area sat directly on the ground, where earthen floors reduced the risk of fire and helped with cleaning. A pair of wide, wooden steps led down to the ground, where several pairs of braided sandals waited.

  A large brick fireplace and oven dominated the center of the kitchen; circular openings on top allowed the pots to rest above the flames. Across the room, against the wall, a waist-high water barrel sat beside a wooden basin and a platform where a cook could sit or kneel to prepare a meal.

  Hiro started down the stairs, but hesitated as he noticed the narrow, parallel lines that marked the ground. “You’ve swept the room since Kiku left?”

  “I haven’t swept this floor in weeks.” Akiko passed him on the stairs and slipped on a pair of sandals. “I haven’t had to. Tane would sweep all day if I allowed it. Sweep and fish and swim. That’s all she wants to do.”

  “She likes to clean?”

  “I would not say she likes it, exactly. The child gets agitated in a dirty room, or when she notices something out of place. She cleans with more skill than women twice her age.”

  Akiko started across the room. “I keep the tea through here.”

  Hiro put on a pair of kitchen sandals and followed his grandmother to the door of a narrow storage room on the opposite side of the kitchen.

  A barrel of rice sat against the storeroom wall, but close enough to the entrance for a cook to reach it through the door. Shelves along the far wall of the storage room held jars of pickled vegetables, dried mushrooms, and assorted spices. On the highest shelf, a set of cylindrical, wooden canisters rested in a line.

  Akiko stepped out of her sandals and onto the raised wooden floor of the storeroom.

  Hiro remained in the doorway. “Who prepared the welcome cakes for the Koga emissaries?”

  “I baked them myself, and Neko plated.” Akiko reached for a three-legged stool that sat in the corner.

  “Neko prepared the welcome tray?”

  “She does have skills aside from killing people.” Lifting the stool, Akiko asked, “What does all this have to do with the Koga woman’s interest in my tea?”

  CHAPTER 31

  “Where is Tane?” Hiro looked around.

  “Why?” Akiko asked. “Do you suspect the child of something?”

  “Only possessing functional ears.”

  “She’s guilty of that, for certain.” Akiko set the step stool on the ground in front of the shelves. “I haven’t seen her in over an hour, but if her past behavior counts for anything, the child will be back at sunset with a brace of fish on a bamboo stake.”

  Hiro didn’t think of Tane as a child, but then, Akiko still referred to him as Hiro-kun—a nickname no one else had used since he was nine.

  “Tell me,” Akiko asked, “what made the Koga woman decide to inspect my tea this morning? If she thought I poisoned the welcome tea, she would have asked to inspect my kitchen sooner.”

  Hiro opted for the truth. The evidence did not point to Akiko—at least, not as strongly as it did to the other suspects. More importantly, he doubted she would hide her guilt. If his grandmother murdered Yajiro—or anyone else—she would also be the first to claim the kill. “Someone poisoned Mother’s tea this morning. It almost killed the other Koga emissaries.”

  “That explains why the Koga woman got so angry when I wouldn’t let her touch my tea. I showed her the canisters, and their contents, but she wanted to root around inside, and I refused.”

  “And she grew angry when you wouldn’t let her?”

  “Accused me of hiding something. Lucky for her, she didn’t push the issue.” Akiko smiled. “Hanzō-kun would not be happy if I stabbed his guest.”

  She stepped up onto the stool and reached for a canister at the left end of the row. Clutching it carefully, she removed the lid.

  The scent of summer grass wafted up from the canister, filling the tiny room. Hiro inhaled deeply as his grandmother tilted the tea container toward him.

  “This is the tea we sent the Koga emissaries,” Akiko said.

  “Sencha,” Hiro noted, “the same grade as Mother drinks.”

  “It was your father’s favorite also, in the autumn.” Akiko lowered the canister until the light from the kitchen reached the leaves.

  Hiro saw no dust or foreign material in the tea. “Has anyone touched the canister since yesterday?”

  “The Koga woman asked that question too.” Akiko replaced the lid and set the container in its place atop the shelf. “You do not burn an entire forest to kill the fox that raids your hens, and no one ruins a month’s supply of tea to assassinate one man.”

  She fixed her stare on Hiro. “Surely you don’t think me such a fool.”

  “The killer ruined Mother’s whole supply,” Hiro said.

  Akiko snorted. “Proving Midori’s innocence.” She stepped lightly off the stool. “Your mother would not waste good tea.”

  Unless she wanted to avoid suspicion. Hiro wished the thought had not occurred to him.

  “Did Neko help Mother prepare the welcome dinner, or just the tea and cakes?”

  “Neko delivered the tea and cakes—and nothing more.” Akiko crossed her arms. “The woman’s a good assassin, but not even a starving dog would eat her cooking.”

  “Mother mentioned that Neko didn’t want to carry the tray.”

  “Tane went missing, or I’d have made her do it,” Akiko said. “But at least, when she returned, she brought that lovely fish we served at dinner—and I made her retrieve the tray from the guesthouse before she helped me serve the feast.”

  “Tane was alone with the fish you served?”

  “She caught the fish,” Akiko corrected, “and before you ask, she didn’t poison it. We tested her skills when she arrived in Iga. She didn’t r
ecognize even the simplest toxins in any form, and though we have begun to teach her, the child could never have poisoned a single target in a group of eight. If she were responsible, everyone in that room would now be dead.”

  She frowned. “Your mother is the only assassin in Iga capable of poisoning with such accuracy.”

  “Tane’s lack of knowledge could be faked.”

  “True,” Akiko admitted, “and we all suspected as much, at first, because she arrived so shortly after the last attempt on Hanzō’s life. However, we tested her thoroughly, and I’ve trained enough kunoichi, and known enough liars, to recognize innocence when I see it. I will turn Tane into a skilled assassin, given time, but at the moment she is every bit the frightened child she seems.”

  “Was anyone else alone with the welcome cakes or the food for the feast?”

  “Every one of us was alone with the food at one time or another.” Akiko stepped out of the storeroom and into her sandals. “Neko prepared the welcome tray. Tane caught the fish. Midori prepared the dishes while I fetched the water, and I’m always here alone.”

  “I thought you said Midori planned the menu in advance. How could Tane have caught the fish that very afternoon?”

  “We planned to serve the catch from the day before. When Tane brought in fresh ones, it made sense to use the best we had available.”

  “One last question. Would you tell me who killed Yajiro, if you knew?”

  Her expression revealed nothing. “What do you think?”

  “I believe you would tell me if you killed him,” Hiro replied. “If someone else was responsible, I suspect that you would not.”

  She smiled. “That is why you are my favorite grandson.”

  “Will you tell me, at least, if you know who did it?”

  “No.” After a silence long enough to taunt him, she continued, “Meaning, I do not know who poisoned either the Koga emissary or Midori’s tea.”