‘Three times Nobunaga sent armies to wage war on the province of Iga. The first two times the small number of ninja defeated the samurai. They attacked the punitive expedition’s camp at night, starting fires and sowing panic; they wiped out the finest commanders; they changed into the enemy’s uniform and provoked bloody clashes between different units of the invading army. Thousands of warriors lay down their lives in the mountain gorges and passes…
‘Eventually Nobunaga’s patience gave out. In the Ninth Year of Celestial Justice, that is, in the year 1581 of the Christian calendar, the dictator came to Iga with an immense army, several times larger than the population of the valley. The samurai exterminated all living creatures along their way: not just women and children, but domestic cattle, wild mountain animals, even lizards, mice and snakes – they were afraid that they were transformed shinobi. Worst of all was the fact that the invaders were assisted by the ninja from the neighbouring province of Koga, the koga-ninja. They it was who ensured Nobunaga’s victory, since they knew all the cunning tricks and stratagems of the “Stealthy Ones”.
‘Momochi Tamba and the remnants of his army made their stand in an old shrine on the mountain of Hijiama. They fought until they were all killed by arrows and fire. The last of the “Stealthy Ones” slit their own throats, after first “cutting off” their faces.
‘The death of Tamba and his men basically put an end the history of the shinobi. The koga-ninja were rewarded with the rank of samurai and henceforth served as guards at the Shogun’s palace. Wars came to an end, there was peace in the country for two hundred and fifty years and there was no demand for the skills of the shinobi. In their rich, idle new service, the former magicians of secret skills lost all their abilities in just a few generations. During the final period of the shogunate, before the revolution, the descendants of the “Stealthy Ones” guarded the women’s quarters. They grew fat and lazy. And the most important event in their lives now was a snowfall.’
‘What?’ asked Erast Petrovich, thinking that he must have misheard.
‘That’s right.’ The doctor laughed. ‘A perfectly ordinary snowfall which, by the way, doesn’t happen every year in Tokyo. If snow fell on New Year’s Day, they held a traditional amusement at the palace: the female servants divided up into two armies and pelted each other with snowballs. Two teams squealing in excitement – one in white kimonos, the other in red – went to battle to amuse the Shogun and his courtiers. In the middle, keeping the two armies apart, stood a line of ninja, dressed in black uniforms. Naturally, most of the snowballs hit their faces, now rendered quite obtuse by centuries of idleness, and everyone watching rolled about in laughter. Such was the inglorious end of the sect of appalling assassins.’
One more page turning,
A new chapter in the book.
Snow at the New Year
A WHITE HORSE IN A LATHER
Fandorin, however, was not convinced by this story.
‘I’m used to putting my trust in the facts. And they testify that the shinobi have not disappeared. One of your idle, bloated guards managed to carry the secrets of this terrible trade down through the centuries.’
‘Impossible,’ said Asagawa, shaking his head. ‘When they became palace guards, the shinobi were granted the title of samurai, which means they undertook to live according to the laws of bushido, the knight’s code of honour. They didn’t become stupid, they simply rejected the villainous arsenal of their ancestors – treachery, deceit, underhand murder. None of the Shogun’s vassals would have secretly preserved such shameful skills and passed them on to his children. I respectfully advise you to abandon this theory, Mr Vice-Consul.’
‘Well, and what if it isn’t a descendant of the medieval ninja?’ the doctor exclaimed. ‘What if it’s someone who taught himself? After all, there are treatises with detailed descriptions of the ninja’s methods, their instruments, their secret potions! I myself have read the Tale of the Mysteries of the Stealthy Ones, written in the seventeenth century by a certain Kionobu from a renowned shinobi family. And after that there was the twenty-two-volume work Ten Thousand Rivers Flow into the Sea, compiled by Fujibayashi Samuji-Yasutake, a scion of yet another family respected among the ninja. We can assume that there are other, even more detailed manuscripts not known to the general public. It would have been quite possible to resurrect the lost art using these instructions!’
The inspector did not answer, but the expression on his face made it quite clear that he did not believe in the probability of anything of the kind. Moreover, it seemed to Fandorin that Asagawa was not much interested in discussing the shinobi in any case. Or was that just Japanese reserve?
‘So,’ said Erast Petrovich, casting a keen glance at the inspector as he started his provisional summing-up. ‘So far we have very little to go on. We know what Captain Blagolepov’s presumed killer looks like. That is one. But if this man does possess the skills of the shinobi, then he can certainly alter his appearance. We have two identical thumbprints. That is two. But we do not know if we can rely on this method of identification. That leaves the third lead: the owner of the Rakuen. Tell me, Agasawa-san, has your investigation turned anything up yet?’
‘Yes,’ the Japanese replied imperturbably. ‘If you have finished analysing your theory, with your permission I shall report on the results of our efforts.’
‘B-by all means.’
‘Last night, at sixteen minutes past two, Semushi left the Rakuen via a secret door that my agents had discovered earlier. As he walked along the street he behaved very cautiously, but our men are experienced and the hunchback did not realise he was being followed. He went to the godaun of the Sakuraya Company in the Fukushima quarter.’
‘What is a g-godaun?’
‘A warehouse, a goods depot,’ Lockston explained quickly. ‘Go on, go on! What did he do there, in the godaun? How long did he stay there?’
Without hurrying, Asagawa took out a small scroll completely covered with hieroglyphs and ran his finger down the vertical lines.
‘Semushi spent fourteen minutes in the godaun. Our agents do not know what he did there. When he came out, one of my men followed him, the other stayed behind.’
‘That’s right,’ Fandorin said with a nod and immediately felt embarrassed – the inspector clearly knew his business and had no need of the vice-consul’s approval.