The victorious general makes many plans in his headquarters ere the battle is fought.

—Sun Tzu, Art of War

Paulo

Despite my hopes to the contrary, Inspector Asano made no suspicious moves towards his weapons, denying me an excuse to kill him. In fact, he was so pathetically grateful Grandfather had believed him about the rot in the secret police that by the time we reached his house, I was resigned to the fact I would have to leave him alive. I almost felt sorry for him.

“It is a great honor, Maeda-sama,” he told my grandfather. “I stand ready to die for the shogun.”

Grandfather gave a short, barking laugh. “I always felt that I could do more for the shogun alive than dead, but if that’s the way you feel, I’ll see what I can do for you.”

Asano stared at Grandfather for a moment, then gave a nervous laugh. “Of course, as you say.”

The inspector lived in a small, modest house in a row of small attached houses. The rooms were not much wider than I was tall. We entered the front room, and he asked us to sit. The room was very much like Asano’s clothing—clean and simple. It contained some cushions on a raised platform against the window. Three scrolls hung on the walls of the room, two ink-wash paintings of Mount Fuji and a character by a gifted calligrapher. The only other furniture was a long, low cabinet in the back. He was a proper samurai—frugal, respectful, and honorable. I was beginning to hate him.

Asano pulled up a tatami mat in the corner of the front room, then removed the floorboards where it had been, revealing a space in the floor. He bent over and pulled a small chest from beneath the house. He placed it in front of Grandfather and opened it, then went back and replaced the floorboards and tatami.

A tightly-rolled scroll fastened with a red silk cord sat atop a large heap of gold koban that filled the chest. My eyes widened. That much money had to be the equivalent of two or three year’s stipend for someone like Asano.

Grandfather took the scroll, opened it, and studied it carefully. “Can you get us some tea, Asano? We shall need to discuss this.”

Asano bowed and hurried off into the back room. I could hear him build the fire up and put a pot on to boil. He came back and knelt in front of Grandfather. His back was straight and he kept his hands on his thighs, the picture of a subordinate reporting to his superior. I sat cross-legged leaning back against the wall, wondering if the tea would be any good.

“What is this first entry?” Grandfather asked.

“We were sent to the warehouse of the rice merchant Akihito. We searched the warehouse and found a large cache of weapons. The weapons and all the rice in the warehouse were seized and the merchant was arrested,” Asano replied.

“And this is significant because?”

“It made no sense. What would a wealthy chonin want with a hidden weapons cache? He already had permission to arm ten of his men. He is an extremely successful merchant. What was the gain?” Asano rubbed his hands together nervously. “I wanted to investigate further but was forbidden by my superior. And that is when I received the first twenty-five koban. It bothered me.”

“As well it should,” Grandfather muttered. “Your superior is?”

“Ishida Masami.”

The name meant nothing to me, but Grandfather shook his head.

Grandfather leaned forward. “And what became of the rice?”

Asano bowed his head with a frown. “I was unable to discover that.”

Grandfather studied the scroll again. “You visited another rice merchant only two days later? Why?”

“I don’t really know. We were to question him about the merchant Akihito, but he claimed that he knew nothing about the hidden weapons store.”

“And you found this suspicious?”

“He was terrified. Naturally, everyone is afraid of the secret police, but wealthy merchants have enough friends in the government, connections to powerful officials, that they are difficult to cow. Yet, this man seemed convinced that we were going to arrest him right on the spot. When I reported the results of the interview to my superiors, I was told to drop the matter.”

The lid of the pot rattled as the water began to boil. Asano jumped up and hurried into the kitchen. He returned with a tray holding a teapot and three bowls. The teapot was a heavy thing, made of cast iron. I eyed it thoughtfully. A teapot like that wouldn’t break as easily as one made of less sturdy material. I still hadn’t replaced my old one. He put tea leaves into the teapot and then filled it with boiling water.

“My brother was investigating rice merchants,” I prompted.

Asano nodded.

“Tell us about that,” I said.

“He wanted to speak to the merchant Akihito. I told him that he needed to get permission from the machi-bugyō to interrogate a prisoner.” He carefully poured tea into the bowls and handed one to Grandfather. “I believe he did so.”

“Did he speak to this Akihito?” asked Grandfather.

“I don’t know. Your grandson was killed two days later,” Asano replied softly. He handed me a bowl. “After I reported that you wished to speak to the machi-bugyō, I was not surprised to get the order to have you killed.”

“Why did you have me arrested then?” I asked, remembering the beating I took at his behest.

“I was trying to get you to leave Edo, but you wouldn’t listen.”

“You are a paragon of thoughtfulness and kindness,” I said, battling down the urge to repay his kindness in a like manner.

“We will need to speak to this Akihito,” Grandfather said.

Asano set his bowl down carefully. “You can’t. He was executed three days ago.”

We sat and stared into our bowls. No one had even tasted their tea.

Grandfather cleared his throat. “So, we have a famine and it appears that the rice merchants are up to something. Probably fixing the price of rice if I know them. And they have bought people in the secret police?” Grandfather shook his head. “It’s not enough. I find it hard to believe rice merchants would dare cross me.”

I swirled my tea in my bowl, then took a sip. No doubt it was the best Asano had, but like everything else about him, it was simple, conservative, boring. An inexpensive local tea of acceptable quality.

I asked Grandfather, “People are starving. Why hasn’t the bakufu stepped in and forced the rice merchants to discount their prices? That is what they usually do in a famine. There will be riots, otherwise.”

Grandfather scowled as he sipped his tea. “Good question. But we have no answers.”

“I will do whatever I can to help in this investigation,” Asano said.

Gazing at him intently, Grandfather said, “I would have you continue as you have. This will be dangerous. If anyone suspects you are working with me, you could be killed.”

Asano bowed. “I will do as you ask.”

“Report that Yujirō is still alive and that you have discovered he is my grandson. Let’s see what kind of reaction that gets.”

I put my bowl down. “What? Won’t they send a shinobi, like they did with my brother?”

Grandfather smiled at me. “That’s what you were trying to do earlier, wasn’t it? Provoke a response from his killers? Well, now you should succeed.”

I said nothing. After Asano’s display of loyalty and courage, I could hardly do less than put myself out as bait, but the incident with Sai had shaken my confidence in my ability to deal with assassins.

Grandfather stood up. “We will let you get back to work, Inspector. Thank you for the tea.”

I rose and gave Asano a slight bow. “I thank you for the tea as well.”

He bowed back. When he straightened, I took a quick step forward and drove my fist into his stomach. He folded over, wrapping his arms around his middle, choking and gasping for air.

“And thank you for warning me to leave Edo.”

“It was nothing,” he wheezed out.

I followed Grandfather into the street and slid the door closed before massaging my sore shoulder.

Still, we are finally making progress. It has to be the machi-bugyō behind all this. He will pay for Estêvão’s death.

As Grandfather got into the palanquin, I said, “Now we question the machi-bugyō.”

Grandfather laughed. “The secret police do not question the machi-bugyō.” He settled back into the seat. “No, I would need to go to his superiors. That will not be easy, and I will need a very strong case before I attempt that. We go home.” He gave the bearers the address to his estate.

“I will call him an honorless dog and challenge him to a duel,” I shouted, hurrying after the palanquin.

“Which one?”

Oh, yes. I forgot there are two.

The bakufu was cautious. Some important posts in the government, like the machi-bugyōs of Edo, Kyoto, and Osaka, were dual appointments, with each man performing the duty on alternate months. This was supposed to prevent them from acquiring a base of support to challenge the bakufu. I suppose it made it less likely they would conspire against the government.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

Irritated, I snapped, “Both of them.”

Another laugh came from the inside of the palanquin. “Come back to the house with me. We have something we must do there. But for now, be quiet and let me think.”

Grumbling, I followed along behind, wondering how we were supposed to get proof of the machi-bugyō’s crimes.

We arrived at the house and went inside.

Once in Grandfather’s rooms, I sat down and said, “When mother mentioned the machi-bugyō of the South would be at the matsuri, you said something about him being corrupt and honorless. What did you mean by that?”

Grandfather didn’t answer, but carefully packed his pipe with tobacco. This was a favorite tactic of his to avoid questions, but I was prepared to wait him out.

After lighting his pipe and taking a long draw on it, he finally said, “If I divulge secrets, they are no longer secrets. And then, they are not worth anything.”

He sucked on the pipe glaring at me. “In any case, it was fifteen years ago. No one would investigate now. The corpse is long buried and the money forgotten.”

I didn’t understand. “Are you saying you think he killed someone and you didn’t investigate? Why?”

“My reasons are my own.”

I shook my head. “What reasons could you possibly have for letting a guilty man go free?” I pressed.

Grandfather slammed his pipe down on the table. “It was you,” he snapped. “That is why I cancelled the investigation.”

“Me?” I repeated, dumbly.

“Yes, you. As machi-bugyō of the South, Tokugawa Goro was one of the panel that determined your penalty after the killing of the shogun’s nephew. When he came in to see me, he pointed out how it was a terrible shame that his cousin had been killed, and now my own grandson faced possible death for the killing.” Grandfather took another puff on his pipe. “He said he hoped that fortune would smile our way, and my grandson might not be sentenced to death, but only exiled for a few years.”

I sat there stunned for several moments, having no idea what to say.

Finally, I said slowly, “You wouldn’t intercede for my uncles when they faced death. Why did you decide to help me?”

Grandfather sighed deeply and his face suddenly looked every one of his eighty years. “Your uncles were traitors. They rebelled against the shogun. You were simply a drunken fool, and I had hopes you might someday learn something.”

I stood up. “Well, we know that Tokugawa Goro must be the villain, so why are we sitting here?”

Grandfather said, “Just because Goro committed a crime fifteen years ago doesn’t mean he killed your brother. I could tell you some things about the machi-bugyō of the North as well.”

I stopped. “Oh, what did he do?”

Grandfather shook his head. “You are getting no more secrets from me. Get me some paper, brushes, and ink.”

I paced back and forth across my grandfather’s room while he worked on some kind of document. He was still writing when a servant brought in food and saké. I waited a bit for Grandfather to finish, but then sat down and ate by myself.

Grandfather finally looked up and said, “It is time we make this official.” He offered me two papers. “Here is an appointment. It will make you an auxiliary member of the secret police for the rest of the month. You will report to and take orders only from me.” He opened the chest we got from Asano and counted out twenty koban. “This will allow you to focus on the investigation without having to terrorize any merchants.” Grinning, he added, “At least none who are not related to your inquiries. I will need your seal here, and on this paper as well.”

I studied the documents. As I told my father, I had been unwilling to sign on as a follower of any of the daimyō. I could never be sure what they would ask me to do. However, I was less worried about my grandfather, since he and I were already working together on the investigation of Estêvão’s death. I was hardly concerned that Grandfather would tell me to go kill the machi-bugyō unjustly. Actually, if the machi-bugyō were the one who had Estêvão killed, I would probably try and kill him on my own. I might as well be paid while doing it. Also, I didn’t really have the resources to follow the investigation by myself, so I would have to work with Grandfather and follow his orders regardless. Signing the paper wouldn’t really change anything. I pulled out my seal and, using Grandfather’s ink, stamped the papers.

He handed me the other paper. “Keep this. It identifies you as a member of the secret police. You might find it useful.” Dividing the twenty koban in half, he handed me a stack of ten of the golden oval coins. “You will get the rest at the end of the month. If you actually follow orders.”

Glaring at him, I took the money and the paper and put them in my purse. I gave a deep bow. “Of course, my lord. Is there anything you wish me to do?”

Unfazed by my sarcasm, he replied, “Yes, my first order is to stay strictly away from the two machi-bugyō. You will not approach their offices or their estates until I tell you to. As a matter of fact, I don’t even want you in the eastern part of Edo at all.”

I surged to my feet. “What? How are we supposed to learn anything if we don’t talk to them?”

“The best way to take a well-fortified castle is not through the front gate. I said you won’t talk to him. I didn’t say no one would.” He took out another piece of paper and scrawled a few lines across it, folded it and gave it to me. “Take this to Akiyo-san. I want her to assign Sai to you as a bodyguard. I would prefer to keep at least one of my grandsons alive.”

“You think I need her protection?”

Grandfather sighed. “She knows the ways of the shinobi—you do not. She should be able to recognize danger and react before you can. That will buy you time. Surprise is their greatest weapon. I am trying to reduce that advantage.”

I didn’t like the idea, but I had to admit it made sense. I bowed. “Hai.”

He picked up two more koban and handed them to me. “You will probably need to pay for things related to the investigation. Use this. But I expect an accounting of every mon you spend. It must be to further the investigation, not just for food or saké.”

I put the money with the rest in my purse, but I wasn’t happy about the way things had turned out. The old man had tricked me, getting me to agree to obey his orders and then ordering me to do nothing.

Sensing my discontent, he said, “After Sai joins you, ask her about what she knows. She has probably been at the Confucius Academy for some time, and if she is any good, she may have noticed something that will be of use.”

*****

I heard giggling even before I entered the kimono shop. I shook my head. I had no idea of what to think about these kunoichi, and now my life might depend on them. I stepped inside.

“Irasshaimase!” Sai and another girl called. They moved forward until they recognized me.

“Yujirō-san.” Sai gave me a quick bow. She hadn’t changed clothes since we left her with Inspector Asano. “What can we do for you?”

I held up the note. “My grandfather sends this to Akiyo-san.”

“This way, please.” She turned and ran through the curtains to the back rooms behind the shop calling for her sensei.

I walked after her, passing through the room where we had met with Akiyo-san and then into the kitchen. Sai stood at a door to the outside. We exited into a courtyard where Akiyo-san stood before a clothesline with several kimonos hanging from it.

“Akiyo-sensei,” Sai called out. “Yujirō-san is here.”

I gave Akiyo-sensei Grandfather’s note. She pulled out some spectacles and studied it carefully. A worried frown crossed her face. “You and your grandfather are playing a dangerous game.” She turned to Sai. “You have a new assignment.”

Sai perked up. “No more Confucius Academy?”

Akiyo-sensei pressed her lips together. “Perhaps Yujirō-san will think of a way you can continue your studies. It is important to keep learning, but your job is now to guard and protect him. Maeda-sama expects there will be more attempts on Yujirō-san’s life.”

I chuckled. “I would not wish to interfere with her education. There is a certain amount of administrative work I have to accomplish as the director. I will come to the Academy and work on it during her class time. If I finish, I might even have some time to go over her lessons with her.”

Akiyo-san bowed to me. “That is most considerate of you, Yujirō-san.”

Sai’s face fell and she glared at me. I smiled inwardly. There would be at least one student at the Academy to whom I could actually teach something.

“Sai, please come inside. I need to talk to you.” I went back into the house.

I sat on the tatami mat in the kitchen and looked around. One side of the kitchen had a stack of tables in the corner. Numerous baskets and bowls sat on cabinets on a raised platform along the wall and a heavy wooden table sat near the middle. A kettle bubbled on the clay stove.

“Do you have some tea?” I asked.

“Of course,” Sai responded. “Would you prefer leaf or matcha?”

“Matcha? I would love matcha.”

Sai grabbed a bowl, and put a scoop of the green powder from one of the cabinets into it. She poured hot water in and began to whisk it. I was surprised to note that she was doing it as it would be done in the tea ceremony. I had not thought her training would extend to the feminine arts and seduction, given the assignments she seemed to excel at.

As she stirred, I asked, “How long have you been at the Academy?”

“A bit more than a month, now.”

“So, you knew my brother?”

She looked up at me, then back at the bowl, now using the whisk to break up the bubbles formed by her previous stirring. “I never spoke to him, but I did follow him for a while.”

“What did you learn?”

A secretive smile played on her lips. “I learned that he was a Christian.”

My heart stopped.

“He went to a ceremony where they drank blood,” she added.

“Not blood,” I snapped. “Saké.”

“Saké?” She frowned. “It was in a large cup and I didn’t see what it looked like, but they said it was blood.”

I dropped my head into my hands.

Heaven preserve me from wild stories about Christians.

I looked up at her. “The saké represents blood. Did you tell anyone about this?”

She poured the matcha into a tea bowl and placed it in front of me. “Akiyo-sensei told me he was under protection. Informing people he was a Christian would not be protecting him.”

I took a sip of the tea. It was a very good mix, but I wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it. “What I need to know is if he visited the machi-bugyō.”

“He went to the machi-bugyō’s office two days before he died. He arrived at the Hour of the Goat and left before the Hour of the Monkey.”

I was surprised by the precise detail of her answer. She was a strange combination of child and experienced spy. Perhaps her head wasn’t completely empty, after all.

“Did he go to the prison?”

“The prison? No, why would he go there?”

I took another sip of tea. She already knew so much, there was little point in trying to hide anything from her. She would be more useful if she knew what we were doing.

“We believe there is something odd going on with the large rice merchants. There might be a connection to the machi-bugyō and my brother may have been investigating it on his own. Grandfather has told Inspector Asano to pretend that nothing has happened, except to report to his superiors who I am and that I am still alive. He hopes to draw out the people that killed my brother. He has given us two koban from the money given Asano to help pay expenses.” I gave a grimace. “He is going to make me account for every monme of it I spend, though.”

She considered what I told and brightened. “We should go to a kabuki play and sit in the tatami mats on the bottom floor. I have always wanted to watch a play from there, but it is too expensive for me. Then we can go to the Chrysanthemum House for dinner.”

Orrrr, maybe her head is completely empty.

“Sai!” I slammed my tea bowl on the table, spilling most of the contents. “When I told you about the two koban, I told you I would have to account for what I spent. I doubt Grandfather would consider kabuki…”

There was a black bead at the bottom of my bowl. “What is that?” I asked, pointing.

“Poison,” she replied.

“What?” I leapt to my feet. “You poisoned me?”

She laughed. “No, just like the saké represents blood for the Christians, the black bead represents poison for the shinobi. You’re dead.”

I flopped back down, unhappy with her games. “How is pretending to poison me protecting me?”

“Because you need to learn to watch people around your food. If I can slip a black bead into what you are eating, someone else could slip poison into it.”

She refilled my bowl, but frowned. “If you don’t wish to see a kabuki play, we won’t. But we need to go to the Chrysanthemum House.”

This girl is going to drive me mad.

“Why?”

“Because I believe that is where your brother died. There may be things we can learn there.”