He was in his room changing out of his soggy and stained clothes when the door slid open a crack and Maria’s voice said, “There is a visitor. It’s Nobunaga’s retainer Hambei. Shall I tell him that you will see him?”
Pedro grunted assent. He knew that Hambei was responsible for hiring Zenta and Matsuzo. Perhaps he had come with some news of the two missing bodyguards. Then Pedro felt a twinge of alarm. Had something happened to Father Luis?
Hambei’s errand was about a different matter entirely. “We have reason to believe that the murderer of Lord Fujikawa may be a monk from Mt. Hiei,” he announced.
Pedro nodded. “Zenta told me about a clue that Chiyo had found. He said that he was doing some further investigation.”
“Yes, that is the problem,” said Hambei. “Zenta has gone to Mt. Hiei and will not be back for the greater part of the day. In the meantime, the monks may take advantage of the festival to make more trouble. Since they have always expressed a hatred for Father Luis and other foreigners, Nobunaga thought that you should be warned to take every precaution against attacks.”
“It’s true that both of our bodyguards are gone,” admitted Pedro. “By the way, do you know where Matsuzo is?”
Hambei looked surprised. “Isn’t he back yet? He was supposed to escort Chiyo home from the restaurant where we had lunch yesterday. Perhaps they went to some events of the Gion Festival.”
For a man whose fiancée was absent all night with another young man, Hambei didn’t look very worried, Pedro thought. It was none of his business, however. The mention of the restaurant reminded him that he should have refreshments brought for his guest.
He summoned Maria and asked her to prepare a Japanese meal. After seeing the reaction of the bodyguards to Western food, he decided not to try it on Hambei. He grinned as he recalled the distrustful expressions on their faces as they nibbled tentatively on their pieces of bread.
Hambei loosened his clothing and sat back comfortably, apparently prepared for a lengthy stay. Perhaps he was appointing himself as replacement for the two absent bodyguards.
Maria brought some bottles of heated saké and small dishes of salty snacks for the two men to consume while rice was being cooked. Using his chopsticks very carefully—he could handle chopsticks well, but the pickled jellyfish was slippery—Pedro spoke of a matter that had been puzzling him. “You know, I still think that the most surprising thing about Lord Fujikawa’s murder is the use of my gun,” he remarked to his guest.
Hambei drained his saké cup and poured some more for Pedro and for himself. “Why do you find it surprising?” he asked. “It’s obvious that the murderer used your weapon in order to put the blame on you.”
“But he was taking a very big risk,” said Pedro. “Guns are very effective in battle, and that’s why so many of your warlords are eager to use them. But as a murder weapon, a gun is risky because it is too difficult to aim. Your murderer had the further problem of having to time his shot so that it coincided with a clap of thunder. All this indicated a great familiarity with firearms, and from what I have heard, the Mt. Hiei monks scrupulously avoid foreign inventions.”
“Those monks have a great variety of backgrounds,” said Hambei. “Some of them may be ronin with experience in firearms. As for the problem of aiming, a gun with a rifled bore can be fired with greater accuracy than the older models.”
Hearing these words, Pedro felt as if someone had dealt him a great thump between the shoulders, driving all the air from his lungs. At that very moment, the door opened and Maria came in with two trays of food. While she arranged the dishes and served the rice, Pedro gradually recovered his composure.
He must have appeared still shaken, however, for Hambei looked curiously at him. “Is there something wrong?”
Pedro waited until Maria had left and closed the door behind her. Then he said carefully, “We had a bad shock just now. Maria saw Kotaro’s body in the bottom of our well.”
“What!” exclaimed Hambei.
“Kagemasa wanted to believe that Kotaro was the murderer,” said Pedro, “and this discovery will convince him that he is right.”
“But what about Chiyo’s clue?” demanded Hambei.
“Kagemasa will simply brush that aside as an irrelevant detail. It will seem obvious to him that Kotaro committed suicide after murdering his master.”
Hambei looked angry and said, “Even Kagemasa cannot brush aside the fact that it was physically impossible for Kotaro to commit suicide by slashing himself in the back. No, what I believe is that Kotaro accidentally witnessed Lord Fujikawa’s murder, and the murderer killed him as he ran to your side of the fence.”
This was exactly what Pedro believed also. He could imagine the scene. Kotaro, kept awake by the pangs of hopeless love for his mistress, was probably pacing about the corridors when the shot was fired. The murderer then had to get rid of this unexpected witness. Kotaro was probably in his night attire and unarmed. He must have tried to escape the murderer by running towards the gap in the fence. The footprints there were almost certainly his. The murderer caught him in the Portuguese’s garden and cut him down.
That murderer was now in the room. Hambei had given himself away when he said that Kotaro had been struck down from behind. Pedro had made no mention of the wound in Kotaro’s back, and only the murderer himself could have known about it.
Pedro was now a very frightened man. The trouble was that he had no one he could trust. He liked Zenta and Matsuzo, but they had been hired by Hambei. It was true that Zenta had saved him from Lord Fujikawa’s men, but that might have been part of the plan. Perhaps the Portuguese were never intended to be scapegoats for long.
Pedro was faced with a difficult decision. Hambei was a favorite of Nobunaga, and if Pedro denounced him, he might offend the powerful warlord and endanger Father Luis’s work. He needed moral guidance. Very conscious of Hambei’s sharp scrutiny, Pedro said, “I should like to talk to Father Luis. Can you tell me where I can find him?”
Hambei’s tension seemed to relax slightly. “Father Luis is attending a banquet at Nobunaga’s residence. If you inquire for him at the entrance, I’m sure that you will be taken to him.”
Pedro had been afraid that Hambei might not permit him to leave the house, but it seemed that the samurai was actually relieved to see him go. Pedro made his apologies for leaving his guest and went to the door.
Hambei poured himself another cup of saké, leaned back comfortably, and smiled.
Chapter 12
Matsuzo was shaking Chiyo so hard that her hair fell loose and whipped about her face. “What have you done?” he yelled. “Tell me the truth!”
Between her sobs, Chiyo was making hoarse gasping sounds, and Matsuzo finally realized that she was trying to speak to him. It was his shaking that prevented her from being understood. With an effort he controlled his anger. Feeling in the front of his kimono he brought out a wad of paper tissue which he handed to the girl. “Wipe your nose,” he ordered, forcing himself to speak more gently.
His kinder tone set her into a fresh paroxysm of weeping, but eventually she calmed down sufficiently to tell her story. It was an unhappy one.
Chiyo had grown up with the impression that she was the illegitimate daughter of a nobleman. From various hints that her mother had dropped, the girl pictured her father as a man of high social position. She eagerly took advantage of the education offered by the kindly abbot of Mt. Hiei, because she hoped to acquire the necessary refinement to be accepted into her father’s household. Her mother, on her deathbed, dashed the girl’s hopes when she revealed that Chiyo’s father was only the abbot. He was no longer a wealthy nobleman, but an ascetic who had renounced all worldly ambition.
In her disappointment, Chiyo fled from the monastery full of bitterness and hatred. Hambei found her working as a candy seller in Miyako, and was struck by her beauty and her refinement. Intending to make her his mistress at first, he changed his mind when he learned her history. He promised marri
age, for he saw the possibility of making her a tool for his plot against the Mt. Hiei monks.
For her part Chiyo was deeply impressed by Hambei’s position as one of Nobunaga’s chief henchmen. Charmed by his humor and his zest for life, she imagined herself in love with him. His schemes to humiliate the monks delighted her, and she cooperated enthusiastically, even adding touches of her own.
Hambei’s schemes soon took a more serious turn. He succeeded in having her placed as an attendant in Lord Fujikawa’s household. With Hambei’s influence and Chiyo’s well-bred air, this was easy to do. Chiyo and Lady Yuki disliked each other at sight, but Lord Fujikawa was kind to her and she found life in the household fairly pleasant.
Then came the planning of the murder.
“So Hambei was the murderer!” said Matsuzo thoughtfully. “It wasn’t Kotaro or one of the monks after all. Hambei must have been the one who stole Pedro’s gun, then.”
“Maria told me where the Portuguese kept his gun, and I passed the information to Hambei,” confessed Chiyo in a low voice.
At Hambei’s orders, she chose Ungen as her victim, for he was the most infatuated of her admirers. She persuaded him to spend some time in Lord Fujikawa’s residence disguised as a gardener, and she made sure that his arrival and departure would be noticed by the neighbors. When he took off the brocade yuigesa to don his disguise, she took the opportunity to cut off one of the orange tufts.
When she saw how seriously Hambei made her repeat her instructions, Chiyo began to realize that something more sinister than a malicious joke was intended. By then she was afraid of Hambei, for she saw the ruthlessness under his humorous and hearty manner. Even when he didn’t threaten her openly, she dared not disobey.
“But I swear that I had no idea at first that it was Lord Fujikawa’s murder which Hambei was planning!” she cried.
Looking at the girl’s ugly weeping, Matsuzo was inclined to believe her. If she had been acting, she would be weeping much more artistically. Her guilty secret had become an intolerable burden to her, and he suspected that the confession was bringing her partial relief. Perhaps Chiyo’s feelings towards Mt. Hiei contained more than hatred. Too late she might have realized that she loved her father, the abbot. Matsuzo’s heart was sore with pity for the girl. Well, at least he had saved her from that fiend Hambei.
On the whole Matsuzo had not been too surprised at the revelation about Hambei. During their very first meeting following the eel vendor fracas, he had noticed a malice and cruelty in the man’s barbed comments to Zenta. Later he had changed his mind and thought them friendly banter, but his first instinct had been correct. He also remembered that when he asked if the two men were old friends, Zenta had replied that Hambei was not an old friend, but only an old acquaintance. At the time Matsuzo had thought the remark facetious. But Zenta had spoken the literal truth.
It was then that Matsuzo had a cheerful thought, his first in a long time. If Zenta knew Hambei’s true character, perhaps he had also guessed the truth about Lord Fujikawa’s murder. He might have gone to Mt. Hiei not to find more evidence against the monks, but to prove them innocent. In that case the monks would have no cause to kill him, and he might even be safely back at the house of the Portuguese!
When Matsuzo told Chiyo this, she gave a gasp. “I forgot to tell you! Hambei suspected that this might happen, and he told me that he would be waiting at the foreigners’ house in case Zenta returned.” Matsuzo wasted no time. First he asked for an audience with Kagemasa and made Chiyo tell the whole story to the shogun’s investigator. At the end of the recital, Kagemasa looked with disgust at the girl’s face, red and swollen with weeping. “We could torture her to make sure that she is at last telling the whole truth,” he said coldly.
When Matsuzo cried out in horror, Kagemasa said, “I don’t think it will be necessary. She seems to be telling us all she knows. But there is still the problem of what we should do. Since Hambei is a favorite henchman of Nobunaga, we shall have to prepare our evidence very carefully. Right now all we have is the girl’s word against his.” He paused and added, “If my men and Hambei’s were to have an open clash, war might break out between my master and Nobunaga. I don’t have to tell you how that would end.”
“Let me try to find Zenta first,” suggested Matsuzo. “He may have additional facts that will strengthen our case.”
Kagemasa agreed. “Take a few of my men with you as protection for you and your friend in case Hambei attempts assassination.”
Matsuzo thought over the suggestion and decided against it. “If I appeared with an armed guard, it might alarm Hambei and start the very clash that you want to avoid. It is better if I go alone to warn Zenta.”
“Let me go with him,” said Chiyo. “I want to undo some of the harm I’ve caused, and I can also help to lull Hambei’s suspicion.”
Kagemasa frowned. “I hardly think that’s possible. You are in a sense a criminal and our prisoner.”
“Please let her help. I really believe that she is sincere,” said Matsuzo. He was convinced that Chiyo’s suffering had been genuine. Seeing Kagemasa’s skeptical look he added, “I’m not always as stupid as I look.”
Kagemasa looked at the two young people, and after a moment his sternness gave way to amusement. “I think that your innocent appearance must be quite useful at times,” he told Matsuzo. “Very well, you may take her with you.”
He paused and coughed delicately. His next words were spoken with great care. “It may turn out that you and your friend will need refuge from, shall we say, powerful enemies. Remember that although the shogun cannot afford open clashes, my master’s prestige is still high enough for me to give you temporary shelter.”
Returning to the street where the Portuguese lived, Zenta found the quiet there almost eerie. The contrast was especially great after the noise of the merrymakers crowding the major thoroughfares of Miyako. Maria opened the gate for him, and he found the house as deserted as the street. Apparently everyone else had gone to enjoy the Gion Festival, even Matsuzo.
The absence of his young assistant was a serious blow to Zenta. He had an urgent message for Kagemasa, who unfortunately lived at the other end of the city. In his tired state, Zenta knew that without Matsuzo’s help he would not be able to defend himself against those who might try to stop him along the way. He decided to wait for Matsuzo. In the meantime he could eat something, for he was ravenously hungry. If, at the end of the meal Matsuzo did not return, then he would have to set off alone. Food and a short rest should help to restore his strength.
He summoned Maria and asked her to prepare a quick meal of rice balls made from cold rice. The girl looked nervous and seemed anxious to scuttle out of his sight as quickly as possible. For a moment Zenta wondered if something had happened to upset her. Then he decided that a timid creature like Maria needed time to recover from the shock of Lord Fujikawa’s death. He had no use for timid creatures. In his own family, the women as well as the men received training in arms. But he resolutely put aside all thoughts of his family. That life was finished, and there was no going back.
His thoughts turned to Lady Yuki. She was a girl of spirit, although she had not been trained in arms like the samurai women. Zenta sensed an inner toughness in her that would enable her to meet any crisis with courage. But Lady Yuki was out of his reach unless he carved a successful career for himself in Miyako—and whether he had any future in Miyako depended on Nobunaga. Zenta jerked awake from his dreams and grimly reminded himself that before the day was over, he might not have any future anywhere.
After eating, Zenta found that he had to fight sleepiness. To keep himself awake, he took out the go board and pieces and set up a corner strategy problem to solve. The heat and his exhaustion worked like a drug, however, and he didn’t realize that he had dozed off until a faint sound roused him. It was the scraping sound of a door sliding open. Training told, and instantly his fingers clenched around the hilt of his sword.
“Oh, no, you don�
�t,” said a voice softly. “Put that sword down!” Hambei stood in the open doorway. In his hands he held a gun, loaded, primed, cocked, and aimed. The long fuse of the slow match was already lit. “And now take out your short sword,” he continued. “That’s right. Put it down beside the other one.”
Zenta looked at the sputtering end of the fuse. He knew that when Hambei pressed the lever that swung the end of the fuse to the powder, it would ignite and explode the bullet on its way. Would there be time for him to make a jump at his enemy?
Hambei seemed to read his mind, for he smiled and said, “Don’t try anything. You won’t succeed. The long fuse gives me time for a little chat. I’ve been looking forward to this, you know.”
Zenta sat back, wishing that he knew more about the mechanics of a gun. It looked hopeless to try an attack on Hambei, since there was the whole width of the room between them. This was one of the great advantages of the gun as a weapon: It had a reach farther than the sword or even spear.
“Very well, I’ve no objections to a little chat,” he said mildly. “But do we really have much to say to each other? You know by now that I saw through your plot, and you must have guessed that I met Chiyo’s father on Mt. Hiei. I found out enough about her character to know that while she hated the monks, she was not cruel or ruthless enough to conceive this plan. She was working under your direction.”
“How did you suspect Chiyo in the first place?” demanded Hambei. “I want to know that before I kill you.”
Zenta was quite willing to stall for time. He still had hopes that someone might come. He explained that his suspicion had been aroused by Chiyo’s claim of having seen the orange tuft in the flash of lightning. “It’s your own fault for making the scheme too complicated,” he said.
The Samurai and the Long-Nosed Devils Page 10
