by Susan Spann
“An interesting theory, but Fuyu would not have chosen a private suicide to atone for Yajiro’s death. He would have needed at least one witness to verify that he died with honor. Also, he would have committed the act outside, to avoid defiling Midori’s floor.”
Father Mateo regarded the body. “The blood may be wrong for suicide, but it doesn’t match murder either. Fuyu would have struggled, but that puddle looks as if he didn’t move.”
“Agreed,” Hiro said, “suggesting the killer overpowered him almost instantly, before his blood could spatter the floor too much to hide by placing the body over it.”
He started toward the door. “We will not find the answers here.”
In the entry, he froze at the sight of a lantern bobbing toward the house.
“Father Mateo?” Ana’s question carried toward them through the darkness. “Is that you?”
“Ana!” The Jesuit hurried past Hiro and onto the porch. “Where have you been? What are you doing out so late?”
Hiro retrieved their lantern, which the priest had left beside the brazier, and joined the Jesuit on the porch. As he stepped outside, he closed the door behind him.
Ana stood at the edge of the veranda with a lantern in one hand and a carefully folded towel in the other. “I wanted to bathe before I prepared your dinner.” She bowed. “I apologize. I did not think your meeting with Hattori-sama would end so quickly.”
“It hasn’t ended.” Hiro hoped the Jesuit would not mention the dead man in the common room. “We returned for something I’d forgotten.”
“Y-yes,” Father Mateo stammered. “We came back, but just for a moment. We won’t need any dinner here tonight.”
“Can you find your way back to the guesthouse in the dark?” Hiro asked.
“I’m old, not stupid.” Ana stepped onto the porch. “I’ll just lay out your beds before I go.”
“Not necessary,” Father Mateo said quickly. “We can manage . . . can’t we, Hiro?”
Ana frowned at the priest. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Once again, the Jesuit answered far too quickly.
“Hm.” Ana stepped back off the porch. “If you expect me to believe that, next time shut the door more quickly, so I do not see the dead man lying by the hearth.”
She walked away along the path, leaving Hiro and Father Mateo stunned.
CHAPTER 40
“I can’t believe she wasn’t more upset.” Father Mateo recovered his voice as Ana’s lantern bobbed away into the darkness.
“She would have made a good assassin.” Hiro left the porch and started walking.
“Did the same person murder Fuyu and Yajiro,” the Jesuit asked, “or do you think we have a second killer?”
“For the moment, logic suggests just one, and Kiku and Neko are now our leading suspects,” Hiro said. “Did Toshi stay in the guesthouse the entire time while you were praying?”
“Yes. I left him alone at the end, when he asked to say good-bye to Yajiro, but you were there when he met us on the road, just a few minutes later. He wasn’t alone long enough to come all the way back here, commit a murder, and return. Not even if he ran.”
“Which brings us back to Kiku and Neko,” Hiro said, “both of whom had the skills and training to make a killing look like suicide.”
“I hate to ask. . . .” Father Mateo hesitated. “Couldn’t Midori or Akiko have murdered him just as easily?”
“Mother would have poisoned him, if not with food or drink, with a tainted dagger and a single strike.” Hiro thought of Tane’s reaction to Akiko and the girl’s decision to place the clue in the Jesuit’s sleeve. “Grandmother might have used a blade, but I don’t think she would have staged a suicide. She doesn’t hide her kills.”
“All right, then, Neko and Kiku—but which one?”
“I do not know.” Hiro exhaled heavily. “The facts suggest them both. Neko delivered the tea and cakes to the Koga guesthouse, and she has been trying to distract me since the night Yajiro died, when she came to Midori’s and—”
“Neko came to Midori’s house that night? You didn’t tell me. . . .”
“It didn’t seem relevant,” Hiro admitted. “She wanted to talk about our past—though I realize now, she’s been trying to distract me ever since I arrived in Iga. Also, she’s been trying to blame Yajiro’s murder on Kiku from the start.”
“Suggesting guilt,” the Jesuit added.
“Now, she conveniently overhears an argument between Kiku and Fuyu shortly before he ends up dead.”
“Making the truth an issue of her word against Kiku’s.” Father Mateo sighed. “I’m sorry, but it does make Neko look guilty.”
“Not so fast.” Hiro started up the hill toward Hanzō’s mansion. “Kiku brewed the welcome tea Yajiro drank before he died. She is familiar with torikabuto, and brought a medicine box from Koga, which certainly contains a selection of poisons along with the healing herbs.”
“She wouldn’t poison Midori’s tea and then agree to drink it,” the priest protested. “Also, she supports the alliance. Why would she murder the other emissaries?”
“She claims to support the alliance,” Hiro corrected, “but once again, we have only her word to rely on. I will point out, also, that Kiku tried to trick Hanzō into killing Toshi less than an hour ago.”
“How so? Toshi insulted Hanzō on his own.”
“But Kiku made the initial accusation,” Hiro said. “Toshi is young and wants to prove himself in order to emerge from Fuyu’s shadow. Kiku set him up. If Hanzō had killed him, she would have returned to Koga alone—”
“—with no one to contradict her version of events in Iga.” Father Mateo shook his head. “She looks as guilty as Neko does. How will we ever choose between them?”
“At the risk of multiplying the complications,” Hiro said, “Akiko mentioned that Tane can throw a dagger with the accuracy required to kill a man in a single strike. We may not know until we turn him over, but if his injuries suggest a ranged attack, the girl may join the suspect list as well.”
“At least that means we only have three people to investigate—and we have the envelope Tane gave us. Speaking of which, doesn’t that suggest the girl is innocent?”
“Innocent or unusually devious,” Hiro said. “We don’t yet know.”
“The envelope. . . .” Father Mateo trailed off. “Couldn’t we check the medicine boxes and see which one is missing torikabuto?”
“Not likely. The killer will have left some in her box, to avoid that problem.”
“Unless Tane stole it,” the Jesuit offered.
“In which case, she’d also know better than to take the whole supply.”
“Good point,” the Jesuit said as they entered Hanzō’s yard. “Now what?”
“We deliver the news, return to examine the body with Hanzō and the others, and hope the killer makes a mistake.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”
Hiro paused, torn between pride and honesty. “I have nothing better to offer. You were right. I’m compromised. I cannot let my mother die, and cannot tell if my suspicions stem from real facts or from emotions. When it comes to Mother, and to Neko, I can no longer tell the truth from lies.”
The Jesuit’s forehead wrinkled in concern. “I hope you’re wrong.”
Hiro continued toward the mansion. “You don’t hope it half as much as I do.”
CHAPTER 41
“Where is Koga Fuyu?” Hanzō demanded as Hiro and Father Mateo entered the room without the missing emissary.
Hiro bowed. “It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that Fuyu-san is dead.”
Toshi sprang to his feet, triggering Neko to do the same.
Kiku rose more slowly, with suspicion in her eyes. “How did this happen?”
“It appears he committed suicide,” Father Mateo said.
Hiro noted how deftly the Jesuit navigated the line between truth and honesty.
“He would not do that!�
�� Toshi exclaimed. “I don’t believe you!”
“I also find this difficult to believe.” Hanzō stood up. “We will go, together, and see what happened.”
Kiku gave Hiro an accusatory look. “Assuming the body has not been moved, or the evidence destroyed.”
“We did not move him,” Hiro said. “We lit the braziers in the room but otherwise touched nothing.”
“This happened in my home?” Midori asked.
Hiro nodded.
She rose. “Then I wish to accompany you also.”
The group left Hanzō’s house, equipped with lanterns against the darkness. Kiku set off at a rapid pace, while Toshi scurried along behind her like a wolf pup trailing its mother.
Hiro increased his stride to catch them.
“Let them go.” At Hanzō’s order, Hiro slowed to match his cousin’s pace.
Hiro expected Hanzō to have questions about Fuyu’s death, but the Iga leader did not speak again. Father Mateo caught Hiro’s eye and nodded to Hanzō. Hiro shrugged. He had no intention of giving away information that might help them solve the crime. From that perspective, Hanzō’s silence was a welcome, if suspicious, situation.
Neko and Midori walked together at the back of the group, the first time Hiro could remember either woman choosing not to walk with men. Admittedly, the path lacked room for more than three people to walk abreast with ease, but Hiro felt uneasy with Neko at his back.
As they approached Midori’s home, Hanzō increased his pace, ensuring they all reached the porch before Kiku and Toshi entered the house.
Without speaking, Kiku left her sandals by the door and went inside.
Behind her, Toshi froze on the threshold, blocking the entry. A sound emerged from the young man’s throat, half gasp, half sob. Quickly, he recovered his composure and entered the house, clearing the way for the others to follow.
Kiku gave Hiro a curious look as he joined her beside the corpse. “You told us he committed suicide.”
“That was me,” Father Mateo said, “not him.”
“Do you think otherwise, Kiku-san?” Neko stood just inside the door. “Obviously you would know, as you were the last to see him before he died.”
Kiku turned. “Is that an accusation?”
“Should it be?”
Kiku’s expression hardened. “As it happens, I probably was the last to see him—or, more accurately, second to the last. I argued with Fuyu before I left to attend this evening’s meeting. During that argument, I accused him of murdering Yajiro. He refused to admit his guilt. I dressed and left to walk my anger off before the meeting.” She frowned at the corpse. “I assure you, he was very much alive when I departed.”
“He murdered Yajiro-san?” Toshi sounded incredulous. “Are you certain?”
“He wanted to sabotage the alliance with Iga at any cost,” Kiku said. “I returned from the bathhouse and caught him going through my medicine box. He claimed he was looking for torikabuto, but that was a lie. He planned to steal my poison and blame everything on me!”
“So you killed him.” Neko nodded in approval.
“If I had, why make it look like seppuku?” Kiku looked down her nose at the other woman. “Fuyu did not deserve the honor of self-determination. I planned to accuse him tonight, at the meeting.”
Hiro wondered what more Kiku wasn’t telling them. Fuyu’s invasion of her privacy, though offensive, hardly seemed enough to change her mind about Neko’s guilt. On the other hand, if Kiku was the killer, she might have shifted her story—and murdered Fuyu—to ensure her safe escape.
“Clearly, Fuyu-san opted for suicide over shame.” Hanzō gestured to the corpse. “The crime is resolved. Yajiro-san’s murderer has confessed, in blood.”
Hiro looked at the stained tatami around the corpse and wondered why no one mentioned the lack of spatter. Hanzō had witnessed plenty of ritual suicides and should have recognized the problem instantly. However, the Iga commander cared far less for truth than he did for resolving the situation in a way that matched his plans.
Hiro wished he knew, with clarity, what those plans entailed.
Looking around the room, he grew increasingly chagrined by his inability to separate the innocent from the guilty. Worst of all, he could not risk revealing the evidence for Fuyu’s murder with the killer in the room. And the murderer was in the room.
Of that, he had no doubt.
He stared at Kiku. Silent moments passed.
Hiro found it interesting that, despite her statement that Fuyu was murdered, neither she nor anyone else objected again to Hanzō’s characterization of the death as self-inflicted. However, Hanzō’s theory fit the evidence well enough to let the shinobi clans avoid a war—provided the killer did not strike again—a fact that also escaped no one in the room.
Even Hiro found himself torn between the truth and the tenuous safety of Hanzō’s lie.
“We cannot leave him here like this.” Toshi joined them by the body. “We must lay him properly before his muscles freeze.”
Kiku stepped away from the corpse with a look that indicated she did not care.
“I will help you move him.” Father Mateo walked around to the far side of the body.
Toshi grasped Fuyu’s left arm as the priest took hold of the right. They began to raise him.
“Wait!” Toshi lowered the corpse to the floor without releasing his hold on Fuyu’s arm. He pointed to the dead man’s side. “What’s that?”
A two-inch wound marked Fuyu’s skin between his ribs. While he lay on the floor, it had been hidden by his upper arm. The size and shape suggested a dagger—likely, the one projecting from his neck—and the angle of entry between his ribs revealed that someone else’s hand had caused it.
Kiku returned and examined the wound. She turned to Hanzō. “As I suspected, Fuyu-san was murdered.”
CHAPTER 42
An accusatory silence fell. Hiro looked around, but every face seemed carved from stone.
“Iga has now murdered two of Koga’s emissaries.” Kiku drew a dagger from her obi. “Your insult will not go unanswered.”
“Please, there is no need for violence.” Father Mateo raised his hands. “Allow us to examine the body. We will learn what happened here.”
“We already know what happened here,” Toshi protested. “The puncture wound between his ribs proves murder.”
“But not who did it,” the priest replied.
Kiku considered the Jesuit’s words. “I will allow an examination, but not until those women leave.” She gestured to Midori and Neko.
“Yes, this matter does not concern them,” Toshi agreed.
“This has nothing to do with politics.” Kiku gave the younger man a disapproving look. “We are outnumbered. Also, I will not have the killer gloating over Fuyu’s body.”
“Then you had better leave as well,” Neko retorted.
“Enough!” Hanzō gestured to the door. “Midori, Neko, you may go.”
“Please accept my condolences on the unfortunate death of Koga Fuyu.” Midori bowed and left the house, with a scowling Neko on her heels.
“I trust you’ve no objections to my presence,” Hanzō said, “since I do not intend to leave.”
“I prefer that you remain, to answer for the actions of your clan.” Kiku sheathed her weapon and reached for the dead man’s arm, forcing Toshi to step away. “Let us see what Fuyu’s corpse reveals.”
Hiro found her reaction intriguing. Curiosity about the dead was rare, even among assassins.
Father Mateo reached for Fuyu’s other arm. Together, he and Kiku raised the body from the floor. The dagger slipped out of Fuyu’s neck and hit the tatami with a sticky thump.
Hiro’s sensitive nose rebelled at the stronger odors of blood and excrement wafting up from the moving corpse. Hiding his disgust, he leaned in for a closer look.
Patchy bloodstains marked the spots where Fuyu’s forehead, nose, and chin had rested on the floor. The skin beneath already showed the p
urple flush that appeared a short time after death on the parts of a corpse that rested on the ground.
A river of congealing blood flowed down Fuyu’s neck and chest, while several feet of intestine dangled from enormous gashes carved both vertically and horizontally across the dead man’s stomach.
Father Mateo and Kiku lowered the body onto its back, facing the ceiling, as Toshi stepped away with a grunt of disgust.
“Do you see anything unusual?” Hanzō asked.
“That depends,” the Jesuit said. “Is disembowelment unusual?”
“Completion of both cuts is unusual,” Kiku replied. “Few men remain conscious long enough to disembowel themselves completely. As I indicated, this is murder, not a suicide.”
“Agreed,” Hiro said.
“Clearly the killer did not know Fuyu well,” Kiku continued. “No one who did would believe he had the fortitude to finish the cuts, let alone finish the ritual by plunging the dagger into his own neck.”
“Do not insult my cousin in front of strangers!” Toshi’s lips quivered.
“I show him no less respect than he showed others during life,” Kiku retorted.
“The judges of the dead hear everything.” Toshi sounded scared.
“The judges of the dead are nothing but a myth to frighten children,” Kiku said.
Hiro believed the same, but was impressed that she would speak the thought aloud.
“Fuyu-san was dead before the cuts were made?” Father Mateo directed his question to Kiku. “If so, why did they bleed?”
“Blood runs toward the ground for several minutes after death, and sometimes longer,” Kiku answered. “Wounds to the heart, delivered through the ribs, kill almost instantly. If the murderer cut the body open within moments after death, and placed it on the floor, facedown, to mimic suicide, the blood would leak enough to make these stains.”
“What kind of person would do such a thing?” Toshi struggled to hold a neutral tone.
“An assassin.” Kiku gave him a sardonic look. “Of which, Iga has no small supply.”
