“You mean kill him?”
“A dead man can’t commit evil or tell secrets,” Ozuno explained. “When Kobori broke his vow, he marked himself for death. I sent out word to everyone in our society. We were all responsible for getting rid of Kobori, but the primary responsibility was mine because he had been my pupil.”
“Then how come he’s still alive?”
Ozuno looked chagrined. “I taught him too well. When I went after him, we fought. He wounded me and escaped.” With a glance at his lame leg, Ozuno said, “Other members of our society have never managed to get close enough to kill him.” His chagrin deepened to mortification. “Now I am responsible for these new murders that he’s committed. He is a sin that will haunt me through a thousand lifetimes.”
“Maybe you can make up for it in this lifetime.” Hirata began to see a solution to his own problems, which now dovetailed with his hunt for the assassin. “Can you tell me how to go about capturing Kobori when we find him?”
“Your best strategy is to bring as many armed troops with you as you can,” Ozuno said. “Then be prepared for many of them to die while he’s resisting arrest.”
This obvious solution didn’t satisfy Hirata. “What about fighting him in a duel?”
“Everyone has a sensitive spot. I was never able to find Kobori’s, but it’s your only hope of defeating him in one-to-one combat. I suggest you don’t try.”
“Would you teach me some of your secret techniques to use against him?”
Ozuno beheld him with grave offense. “I cannot. My vow forbids me.”
“More lives will be lost unless you give me the ammunition to protect myself and my troops.” Hirata felt a passionate need to learn the secrets that enabled a lame, frail man to defeat five able-bodied samurai.
“All right,” Ozuno said reluctantly. “I’ll show you some vulnerable places to strike Kobori if you get close enough.”
He took hold of Hirata’s hand and touched two points on his wrist bone. “Apply hard pressure here to draw breath from his lungs and weaken him.” He pushed up Hirata’s sleeve and lightly squeezed his upper arm in an indentation between two muscles. “Grab him here, and you’ll block his energy flow. That will take him down. Then you can deliver the killing blow.”
Ozuno touched Hirata on the right side of his throat, just under the chin. “A hard jab here will stop the flow of blood.” Placing his finger on one spot, then another, on Hirata’s chest, he said, “Strike him here and stop his heart.” Then he opened Hirata’s robes and pointed out a hollow in his stomach muscles near the navel. “A big kick to the core of his spirit will kill him instantaneously.”
Fascinated, Hirata paid close attention. But he remembered the outlaw attack on the way to Edo Morgue, and the countless sword battles he’d fought. Hand-to-hand combat techniques wouldn’t help in similar situations.
“Can you teach me some sword-fighting moves, like the ones you used against those men who ganged up on you?” he asked.
“Oh, of course. In a few moments I’ll pass on to you the skills that take years to master,” Ozuno said, reverting to his former surly attitude. His keen gaze impaled Hirata. “I suspect that your eagerness to learn my secrets arises from some purpose that goes beyond your search for Kobori.”
“You’re right,” Hirata said, sheepish because Ozuno had seen through him so easily. He dropped to his knees among the graves and bowed. “Ozuno-san, I would very much like to study martial arts with you. Will you please accept me as a pupil?”
Ozuno made a derisive sound. “We don’t accept just anybody who happens to ask. I’ve already told you about our system for choosing pupils.”
Unwilling to take no for an answer, Hirata argued, “Your system broke down when you picked Kobori. I’m a better choice.”
“So you say,” Ozuno retorted. “You’re a total stranger. I know nothing of you except what I see, and I see that you are rash and impertinent.”
“My character is good,” Hirata said, anxious to convince. “The chamberlain and the shogun will vouch for me.”
“That you brag about yourself is a sign of a conceited nature,” Ozuno said scornfully. “Besides, you’re too old. Your personality is set. We always choose boys, whom we can mold to our way of life.”
“But I have combat skills and experience that boys don’t have. I have a head start on them.”
“More likely you’ve learned so many mistakes that it would take years to retrain you.”
Hirata was frantic not to let this opportunity slip away. “Please,” he said, struggling to his feet and grabbing Ozuno’s arm, “I need you to teach me. You’re my only hope that I’ll ever be able to fight again. Unless I learn your secrets, I’ll always be helpless, a target for attacks, the object of everyone’s scorn.” He flung his arms wide, the better for Ozuno to see the crippled wreckage of his body. On the verge of tears, ashamed to beg, he said, “I’ll fail in my duty to my master and my lord. Unless you help me, I’ll lose my honor as well as my livelihood!”
Ozuno regarded him with merciless contempt. “You want knowledge for the wrong reasons. You want to learn a few techniques, win fights, satisfy your pride, and gain material rewards, rather than honor and preserve our ancient traditions. Your needs are no concern of mine. They certainly don’t qualify you to enter our society.” He waved his hand impatiently. “But this discussion is pointless. Even if you were the ideal candidate, I could not train you. I swore off teaching when Kobori went bad. Never again will I risk creating another amoral killer.”
Although the priest’s tone said his decision was final, Hirata was too desperate to give up. “But fate brought me to you,” he cried. “You’re meant to be my teacher. It’s our destiny!”
“Destiny, eh?” Ozuno laughed with sardonic ill humor. “Well, if it is, I suppose I can’t escape it. I’ll make you a deaclass="underline" If we should meet again, we’ll begin your lessons.”
“Fine,” Hirata said. Edo was small enough that he was sure to see the priest again.
Ozuno sneered as he read Hirata’s thoughts. He said, “Not if I see you first,” then limped out of the cemetery. In the road, he merged with a flock of pilgrims and vanished.
28
Reiko knocked on the gate outside the mansion where Yugao’s friend Tama worked. A woman with gray hair and a cross face opened it and said, “Yes?”
“I want to see Tama,” Reiko said, so urgently that her voice trembled.
“You mean the kitchen maid?” Curiosity sharpened the woman’s gaze. “Who are you?” After Reiko introduced herself, the woman said, “Tama isn’t here.”
Reiko almost wept with disappointment. If Sano was doomed to die soon, finding Yugao might be the last thing she could do for him. “Where is Tama?”
“The cook sent her to the fish market. I’m the housekeeper. Can I help you?”
“I don’t think so. When will Tama be back?” As she realized that she would never be able to find the girl in the huge, crowded fish market, Reiko tried to stay calm. Falling apart wouldn’t help Sano.
“Oh, she’ll probably be gone for hours,” the housekeeper said, studying Reiko with avid interest. “Why are you so eager to see her? What’s she done?”
“Maybe nothing,” Reiko said. Her hunch that Tama had withheld important information from her yesterday might be mere wishful thinking. Yet Reiko couldn’t give up; Tama was her only lead to Yugao. “On second thought, maybe you can help me. Have you noticed anything strange about Tama recently?”
The housekeeper frowned in thought, then said, “As a matter of fact I have. The day before yesterday, she left the house without permission. The mistress scolded her and beat her. That’s not like Tama. Usually she’s such a meek, obedient little thing, never breaks any rules.”
Reiko cautioned herself against hoping too much. “Why did Tama leave?”
“It was because of that girl who came to see her.”
“What girl?” Reiko held her breath as her hope ran wild and her heart began to race.
“She said her name was Yugao.”
Such glad relief overwhelmed Reiko that the breath rushed out of her; she clutched the gatepost for support. “Tell me everything that happened when Yugao came! It’s very important!”
“Well, she showed up at the back gate,” the housekeeper said, clearly enjoying Reiko’s attention and wanting to draw out her story. “She asked for Tama. When I asked who she was, she wouldn’t tell me anything except her name and that she was an old friend of Tama’s. The servants aren’t supposed to have visitors, but I feel sorry for Tama because she’s alone in the world, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to let her see a friend just once. So I fetched Tama.
“At first she was so happy to see Yugao. She hugged her and cried and said how much she’d missed her. But then they started talking. Tama started to look worried.”
“What did they say?” Reiko clenched her fingernails into her palms.
“I don’t know what Yugao said. She was whispering. Tama said, ‘No. I can’t. I’ll get in trouble.’ ”
Now Reiko understood why Tama had acted so upset when Reiko had told her that her childhood friend was a murderess and fugitive. Yugao must have invented some other story to explain why she’d turned up needing help from Tama.
“But Yugao kept talking,” the housekeeper said, “and she wore Tama down. Finally Tama said, ‘All right. Come with me.’ They ran off together.”
“Was there a man with them?” Reiko asked eagerly.
“Not that I saw.”
Yet Reiko felt certain that the Ghost had been lurking somewhere in their vicinity. When he and Yugao had left the Jade Pavilion, they’d needed another place to hide. She must have thought of Tama, the one person who might be persuaded to do her a favor. And Reiko was just as certain that Yugao wouldn’t have abandoned the man she’d loved so obsessively.
The housekeeper leaned close to Reiko and whispered, “I didn’t tell the mistress that Tama stole a basket of food from the pantry before they left.”
“Where did they go?” Reiko demanded.
“I don’t know. When Tama got home, I asked her, but she wouldn’t tell me.”
“How long was she gone?”
“Let me think.” The housekeeper tapped her finger against her withered cheek. “It was near dark when she left. She barely made it back before the neighborhood gates closed.”
Reiko’s hopes plunged; Tama could have covered a considerable distance, even on foot and weighed down with provisions, between early evening and late night. That left an appallingly wide area to search for the place where Tama had hidden Yugao and the Ghost.
“Thank you for your help,” Reiko said, turning to leave.
“Shall I tell Tama you were here?” the housekeeper said. “Shall I tell her you’ll come back?”
Need begot inspiration. Reiko thought of the food Tama had stolen, and a new strategy kindled her hopes. “No,” she called as she hurried toward her palanquin and guards, “please don’t tell Tama.”
But she would be back. And then she would discover exactly where Yugao and the Ghost were hiding.