“That’s it!” shouted Jihei. “We forgot to look under the floor! Here, take up the tatami!”
The tatami, constructed by stitching a finely woven rush mat over a two-inch thick pad, was in the process of being adopted by the upper classes to cover the floors of their living quarters. When Lady Kaede arrived from Miyako upon her marriage, she had brought a tatami maker with her. Under her direction, the more luxurious rooms of the castle were all covered with these snugly fitting mats.
Jihei’s men started to pull up the tatami one by one, standing each one on its side. When the third mat was raised, they uncovered some short boards that lifted up. They had found the hole leading to the crawl space under the floor. Each room had such an emergency exit in case of fire or attack. Half a dozen men followed each other in quick succession down into the hole. They were soon heard scrabbling about in the darkness underneath. The rest of the men left the room to reach the crawl space from the outside. A whole new world had opened up for the happy searchers.
Jihei muttered a curt farewell to the people in the room and hurried out. Ume and the little maid looked at him stonily. Lady Tama had already retired to the music room, where she sat reading an old music book during the entire search.
When the subterranean searching noises receded into the distance, Zenta got up and straightened his clothes. Walking over and replacing the floor boards and tatami, he said, “Your bed is very comfortable, Ume. The quilting is thick, but light and fluffy. My only complaint is about that big lump on the left side. Were you in a great hurry when you stuffed it?”
Ume’s face was all smiles, making her look like a dried persimmon. Her doubts about Zenta had evidently been dispelled by his behavior during the search. “I was the one who had the idea of using the bedding,” she said proudly. “As I was airing the silk floss for the quilts one day, I had a sudden inspiration. It doesn’t take more than a second or two to stretch this shining stuff into a long thin strip so that it wiggles like a snake. And it is just as easy to stuff it back into the quilts afterwards.” “That was why the long white thing had a glistening, fleshy look,” thought Matsuzo. Very clever! The ghastly face with the huge staring eyes was simply skillful makeup. Zenta must have guessed the truth when he saw Ume’s reluctance to get up from her bed.
“Why do you think there is so much hatred between Lady Tama and Lady Kaede?” Zenta asked Ume. “Does your mistress feel the same ill will towards her brother Yoshiteru?”
“Lady Kaede is from one of the noble families of Miyako, not from the warrior class as our lord’s family is,” said Ume. “My mistress is exceedingly proud, and she hates being considered a provincial by a sophisticated lady from the capital. As for Yoshiteru, he is only Lady Tama’s half brother. Naturally my lady has warmer feelings towards the brother who had the same mother.”
“Ume, stop chattering and come in here,” commanded her mistress from the inner room.
Zenta had one last question. “You were the one who put something down my neck in the bathhouse, weren’t you? What was it?”
Ume had the unrepentant glee of a child. “I used cold noodles! I’ll never forget how the two of you ran around that courtyard looking for snakes!”
As the two men left Lady Tama’s apartments, they could hear the sound of Ume’s hoarse laughter all the way down the wooden walk.
Chapter 11
“But it’s long after midnight!” protested Matsuzo. “I’m sure the envoy went to bed hours ago. He won’t like it at all if we wake him at this time of the night.” The two ronin were taking advantage of the disorder caused by the ghost hunt to reach the envoy’s quarters unobserved by the chamberlain’s men.
“He can’t possibly sleep with all this uproar,” said Zenta. “Furthermore what I have to tell him is too urgent to wait until morning.”
As honored guests of the castle, the envoy and his men occupied a luxurious suite of rooms on the grounds of the inner courtyard, close to the quarters of the chamberlain. His meager retinue was barely adequate to form a guard over the numerous entrances to his rooms.
The two men exchanged greetings with the guards at one of the doors and asked whether Saemon had returned.
“He is still helping to mislead the ghost hunters,” said a guard, grinning. “The chamberlain’s men are probably giving up by now, and Saemon should be returning shortly. My master left instructions for you not to wait for Saemon but to go into his room immediately.” Pushing aside the sliding door, Zenta stepped into the principal bedroom of the envoy’s apartments. Matsuzo followed him and looked around with wide eyes at the elegance of the furnishings.
In the midst of this luxury, the honored guest of the castle lay stretched out, apparently fast asleep. He was not lying under his bed quilts, which were spread out behind a painted screen. Instead he lay face down on the floor. The upper part of his body rested on what looked like a piece of crimson silk.
Seeing the envoy asleep, Matsuzo shrank back and prepared to leave the room. Zenta did not even hesitate, but continued to approach. Before he reached halfway to the recumbent figure, he suddenly stopped short.
Noticing Zenta’s shock, Matsuzo followed his glance and took a closer look at the vivid patch of crimson. In the profound silence of the room, the pounding of his heart felt thunderous.
Zenta drew a shuddering breath. “I am too late,” he whispered. “What a fool I was not to foresee this!”
A piercing shriek ripped through the air. Across the room in another doorway stood Lady Tama with Saemon behind her. In her dead white face, her staring eyes were huge and wild. Then her mouth twisted, and she shrieked again and again.
Men started to move in the room behind Zenta and Matsuzo. The guards in the antechamber crowded into the doorway and stared at the tableau in the room.
“You murderer!” cried Lady Tama, her voice cracking. “You pretended to help, but all the time you were really working for the chamberlain!”
Zenta made no reply but merely looked at her with wide unseeing eyes. Nor did he move when she snatched the dagger out of her sash and rushed at him.
It was Matsuzo who moved quickly. He seized her wrist and gave a sharp twist. The dagger fell to the ground by the feet of the dead man. There was an angry growl from Saemon’s men.
Fear sharpened Matsuzo’s wits. “Lady Tama, listen. We are not the ones who murdered the envoy. Look at our swords. They are clean.”
Saemon looked up from his dead master and turned to the guards. “Search them for concealed weapons,” he ordered curtly.
The men poured into the room. They stripped Zenta and Matsuzo of their swords and searched the two men for a bloody weapon.
Zenta submitted passively to the rough search, still looking dazed by the murder. Matsuzo was surprised to see his friend so completely stunned. He himself was not deeply moved by the envoy’s death, having felt only awe and some dislike for the man. It seemed to him that the chamberlain would eventually receive just punishment for the murder, and the daimyo could simply send another envoy.
Saemon’s men finished their search. “We couldn’t find any concealed weapon, sir, and there is no sign of a bloodstain on their swords,” they reported, obviously disappointed.
Saemon was supporting Lady Tama in his arms. She was nearly choked with weeping. “He’s dead!” she sobbed. “We have lost!”
Looking at her, Matsuzo thought, “This is not just regret for losing a promising ally. This looks like the grief of a heartbroken girl.”
In the pool of blood, the profile of the dead man was haughty even in death. Matsuzo could not picture the envoy in the role of an ardent lover, but he wouldn’t understand the heart of a girl like Lady Tama anyway.
Saemon guided Lady Tama to some cushions and made her sit down. Going over to the body of his master, he carefully pulled apart the bloody kimono to expose the chest. They all saw the wound. It had obviously stopped bleeding some time ago.
Saemon looked up. “Matsuzo was right. Our master was dead
long before they arrived. Neither he nor Zenta is the murderer.”
“But these men could have killed him and then returned later,” said one of the guards weakly. He was unwilling to give up the idea that the culprits were here in their hands.
Saemon examined the wound with a trained eye. “No, I don’t think so. He was not killed by a sword. It’s clear that a dagger thrust made the wound.” His eyes went involuntarily to Lady Tama’s dagger which lay on the floor, but it was bright and spotless.
A commotion was heard. The chamberlain and his men pushed themselves unceremoniously into the room. The tall figure of Jihei stood aside to reveal the tubby chamberlain, who looked like an untidy peacock in his hastily donned kimono.
“I rushed over as soon as I heard about the murder,” cried the chamberlain.
His eyes fell on Zenta and Matsuzo, still held by the envoy’s men. He smiled, and the thoughts that passed through his mind were plain on his face. Things couldn’t be better. The unfriendly envoy was dead, and there were two perfect scapegoats to take the blame for the murder. “Very good!” he said happily. “I see that you have already caught the foul murderers. We’ll take them and see that they pay for their crime.”
“Just a moment,” said Saemon, blocking the way as Jihei and his men came forward to take the prisoners. “It’s not proven that these two men are the guilty ones.”
The chamberlain’s air of astonishment was a masterpiece. “But who else is there? Surely you don’t think that one of your own men committed the murder?”
“There is another possibility,” said Saemon grimly.
“We are wasting time,” said Jihei. “These two men are violent and desperate. We saw that by their behavior in the courtyard this afternoon. For the safety of the castle, they should be immediately locked up.”
This brought Zenta’s head up. The arrival of the chamberlain and his men seemed to have roused him from his state of shock. “In the murder of the daimyo’s own envoy, all suspects should be reserved for questioning by the daimyo himself,” he said, looking very deliberately at Jihei. “Anyone tampering with the suspects would come under suspicion.”
Jihei reddened furiously, but before he could reply, Saemon said, “That is true. The daimyo would not thank you for administering his justice!”
“That was not my intention!” protested Jihei angrily. “I merely wanted to take these dangerous men into custody. You’re not suggesting that we allow them to remain free?”
“What proof do you have that they are dangerous?” demanded Saemon. “So far as we know, their only connection with the crime is that they discovered the body. I know that my master was dead long before they came.”
“How could you know what was happening in your master’s room?” retorted Jihei. “You and your men were busy distracting us during the ghost hunt. Don’t think that we didn’t notice.”
“The ghost hunt was a perfect cover for many other activities,” said Saemon. “I’m not overlooking the fact that your men could have used it as an excuse for breaking into this very room!” During the heated exchange, Matsuzo noticed that Zenta was staring fixedly at a spot near the envoy’s body. When Zenta felt himself observed, he hastily turned his head away. But Matsuzo had already seen what he was staring at. It was the heel half of a bloody footprint. The front half had been obliterated by the spreading pool of blood.
Saemon, whose eyes missed nothing, followed Matsuzo’s glance and saw the print also. “Here is something strange!” he exclaimed and pointed. Everyone turned to stare at the print.
Saemon glanced around and examined the feet of every person in the room. None of them were stained with blood. “This print was not made by one of us in the last few minutes. The murderer must have made it after he stabbed my master.”
After inspecting the footprint carefully, he continued, “The outline is quite clear, and this means that there was a lot of blood on the foot. The question is, how did the murderer get out of the room without leaving another bloody footprint?”
There was a silence which lasted for some minutes as people entertained visions of the murderer making a giant leap or flying through the air.
“What about the hole that leads to the crawl space under the floor?” asked one of the envoy’s men. “Perhaps he escaped through that.”
“No, it’s too far away,” answered Saemon. “When we first arrived, I checked the location of the emergency exit in every room of our suite. The one for this room is in that corner over there. The murderer would have had to jump halfway across the room. You men in the antechamber would have felt the thump as he landed.”
Some of the men considered the wooden beams in the ceiling. A very tall man possessing strong arms might be able to jump and grasp one of the beams, but they did not offer a good hold for bare hands, and he would have to let go before proceeding very far.
The most teasing problem was the reason why. Why should the murderer go to the trouble of keeping his feet off the floor?
Suddenly Jihei pointed at Zenta. “This is another one of your tricks,” he snarled. “There has been nothing but confusion in this castle from the moment you arrived. I don’t know what your plans are, but I fully intend to find out!”
“I was suspicious of him as soon as I saw him this afternoon,” said the chamberlain. He ran his tongue over his lips and smiled eagerly. “We have ingenious ways of getting answers to our questions.”
“Wait! I can’t allow you to do this,” cried Saemon. He seemed even more alarmed than the prisoners themselves at the prospect of their being tortured for information.
“This ronin obviously knows more than he is telling,” said Jihei roughly. “The daimyo will not object if we present him with a nice confession already signed.”
“I believe that’s tampering with the suspects,” commented Zenta.
“Since it’s a question of my master’s murder, my men and I should have custody of the prisoners,” insisted Saemon.
“And since it’s a question of the safety of the castle, I propose to take them into custody,” retorted Jihei. “I cannot let these criminals have the chance to commit another murder!”
“This is outrageous!” cried Saemon. “Are you implying that the castle is not safe with all forty of us guarding these two unarmed men?” “We know that these men are exceptionally cunning,” said Jihei. “It would be only sensible to let our men keep them safe until the time comes to send them to the daimyo.”
“Do you mean that my men are unable to guard them safely,” demanded Saemon, “or that we might deliberately allow the suspected murderer of our master to escape?”
Jihei was becoming very angry also. “I am pointing out that our forces are vastly superior to yours. We outnumber you by more than ten to one.”
This was clearly a threat, and the envoy’s men growled angrily. Saemon ground his teeth, but could not deny the truth of Jihei’s statement. The envoy’s quarters were in an open wooden structure impossible to defend, and they were surrounded on all sides by the chamberlain’s men. Any attempt to resist would end in a bloody massacre. He shook his head warningly at those of his men who were already reaching for their weapons.
Although violence was averted for the moment, the chamberlain was anxious to leave. Looking nervously at the angry faces of Saemon’s men, he said to Jihei, “Come on. Let’s get the prisoners into the inner fortress.”
In his hurry to remove the prisoners and end the tense confrontation with Saemon, the chamberlain made two mistakes. First, he did not take the time to send for rope and have the prisoners bound. Secondly, he failed to pay attention to Lady Tama.
While Saemon and Jihei were engaged in their heated argument, Lady Tama gradually regained her composure. Her face, still swollen with weeping, was set in furious thought. Finally she moved quietly back toward the door and slipped out of the room. None of the chamberlain’s men noticed her departure.
Chapter 12
The guards escorting the prisoners to the inter
rogation chamber surrounded them densely on all sides as they marched across the inner courtyard. But when they entered the mazelike corridors of the inner fortress, they were forced to string out in a double file. Jihei was far in front, leading the party. Zenta and Matsuzo were in the middle of the long file, with some fifteen men before them and an equal number behind. No one spoke, and on the polished wooden floors of the corridor, their sandaled feet made little noise.
In the forefront Jihei turned a corner which led in one direction to a long dark hallway and in another direction to a narrow flight of stairs going to an upper floor. Suddenly he stopped. The whole party came to a halt and stood motionless. Their ears caught the sound of a flute.
The ghostly flute music became louder, and in the light of Jihei’s lantern they saw a dim white figure at the end of the hallway. Then it turned and glided off with a soft slither. A low laugh echoed down the corridor.
Jihei forgot his prisoners. All he could see was the hateful figure which had mocked and humiliated him earlier in the evening. With an angry hiss he darted forward along the hallway, followed by his eager men.
At the foot of the staircase, Zenta heard a faint noise from above. He looked up and saw Saemon at the top of the stairs with a sword in one hand and a lantern in the other. Saemon did the only thing possible: he threw his sword down to Zenta.
The ronin had been expecting this move from the moment he heard the flute music. He caught the sword neatly. When the guards realized what had happened, they turned and saw the light glinting wickedly on the naked blade as Zenta tested it for balance. “Well, now,” he said, his voice purring with pleasure, “I believe you people mentioned something about a lesson in swordsmanship?”
He made a flashing attack on the guards and cleared a space at the foot of the stairs. Before the guards could recover to counterattack, he was already racing up the stairs, pulling Matsuzo with him.
White Serpent Castle Page 8
