The following morning, Hiro and Father Mateo walked to the Lucky Monkey brewery. Father Mateo carried his travel papers to ensure they met no samurai delays. Hiro disliked obeying Hisahide’s protocols but acknowledged that cooperation ended better than spiteful argument.
They crossed the river at Shijō Road. Only a single samurai stood guard on the river bridge. He seemed relaxed and didn’t ask to see their travel papers.
Apparently, the missing samurai’s body had not been found.
A short distance past the river, Hiro turned into Pontocho.
“Where are we going?” the Jesuit asked. “This isn’t the fastest way to the Lucky Monkey.”
“We need to make an intermediate stop,” the shinobi said.
As they walked down the narrow, shuttered alley, Hiro inhaled the distinctive smells that meant the morning’s night-soil collection hadn’t occurred on time.
He stopped in front of the moneylender’s shop across the street from the Golden Buddha. As he raised a hand to knock, the wooden door swung open before his fist.
Hiro lowered his hand and nodded to the familiar, beautiful woman in the doorway.
“What do you want?” she asked. “You already know that I don’t help your kind.”
“We haven’t come for a loan,” Hiro said. “We want to know about the debt Akechi Yoshiko collected for you.”
“That is a private matter,” the woman said.
“Between you and a man named Kaoru?” Hiro asked.
The woman seemed to consider closing the door in Hiro’s face. “I won’t discuss my loans, or the names of my clients.”
“So, if I wanted to repay that loan, you wouldn’t let me?” Hiro asked.
The moneylender crossed her arms. “That trick won’t work with me. Also, I told you, I don’t make loans to men.”
Hiro nodded. “Very well, I’ll speak with Mina. Thank you anyway.”
“Mina?” the woman looked confused.
“Kaoru’s mother,” Father Mateo said.
The moneylender’s eyes revealed no recognition. “I have never heard that name, Matsui-san.”
Hiro caught a subtle shift in the woman’s tone. He also noticed something else. “When did you learn my name?”
“After you left, I went to the Golden Buddha,” the woman said. “Eba didn’t know you, either, so I asked around. Your foreign friend has a good reputation, which is the only reason I opened the door for you today.”
Hiro gambled on the truth. “We’re investigating a murder, and believe Akechi Yoshiko has information about the crime. Did you see her in Pontocho two nights ago? Perhaps at the Golden Buddha?”
“The Golden Buddha?” The moneylender laughed. “She wouldn’t cross the threshold. But I did see her that evening. She was here.”
“Which shop did she visit?” Father Mateo asked.
“This one.” The woman gestured toward the ceiling. “She was here. She wanted to collect a debt from one of the Buddha’s patrons, but she knew if he saw her coming, he would run. She asked me to let her watch for him from one of my upstairs windows.”
“And you agreed?” Hiro asked.
“In a manner of speaking.” The moneylender crossed her arms again. “She made a request I could not refuse.
“A little over a year ago I brokered a deal to move an entertainer from the Sakura Teahouse to a brothel here in Pontocho. There were lies involved, although I didn’t know them at the time. I learned about it only after the girl’s lover died.
“Two nights ago, Yoshiko said she knew about the lies and that the brothel paid far less than the girl’s real value. She threatened to call me before the magistrate on a claim that I conspired to help the brothel cheat the Sakura Teahouse on the purchase price. That is, unless I let her use my house to wait for the man she sought.”
“Yoshiko didn’t work for you, then.” Father Mateo frowned. “Why didn’t you call the dōshin?”
“To what end?” the moneylender asked. “Akechi-san is samurai. I am not. The dōshin may not like her, but her rank would still prevail.”
A smile crept over the woman’s face. “I handled the situation a different way. I allowed Akechi-san to watch … and also sent a boy to warn the debtor.”
“So Yoshiko never saw her target leaving,” Hiro said.
“I don’t know,” the moneylender said. “She was watching from the window when I went to sleep a few minutes before midnight. When I woke, at dawn, she had gone. I sleep soundly. I didn’t hear her leave.”
“Why did she come here yesterday?” Hiro asked.
The moneylender smiled. “Much the same reason you’re here now. She threatened to shut my business down if I spoke to anyone about her waiting here that night.”
“Then why are you telling us?” Father Mateo asked.
“As I said, you have an unusual reputation.” The moneylender nodded toward the far side of the street. “People say you intervene to stop the poor from suffering without cause. I’d say that merits help when I can give it.”
“We appreciate your assistance.” Hiro retrieved a handful of silver coins from his purse and dropped them into the moneylender’s palm with a gentle clink.
She closed her hand around the coins. “Do not call on me to testify before the magistrate. If I ever see your face again, I’ll swear you are a stranger.”
* * *
Hiro and Father Mateo left the moneylender’s shop and headed south toward Shijō Road.
“What made you think to speak with the moneylender?” Father Mateo asked.
“A guess, though as it happens, an incorrect one. I wondered why Yoshiko would visit a shop that didn’t make loans to samurai. I guessed—inaccurately—that the moneylender had hired her as a debt collector.”
“She said she didn’t make loans to men,” Father Mateo pointed out. “Why would she make an exception for Kaoru?”
“I didn’t think she made an exception,” Hiro said. “I thought she lied to us about the nature of her loans.”
“Still, we learned that Yoshiko might be the killer,” Father Mateo said. “We can’t account for her whereabouts at the time the murder happened.”
“Yes,” Hiro said, “though whether she killed Chikao remains to be seen.”
As they approached the Lucky Monkey, Father Mateo asked, “What will we do if Mina refuses to see us?”
Hiro ignored the question, stepped to the door, and knocked.
Footsteps approached on the opposite side. The door opened a fraction and Mina’s face appeared in the crack. When she recognized the visitors, she opened the door the rest of the way and bowed. “Good morning, sirs.”
“Good morning,” Hiro said.
Mina bowed again. “I humbly apologize for my son’s demand that Magistrate Ishimaki shorten the time for the brewer’s trial. I asked him to show mercy, but he refused.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I am sorry you have come. I cannot help you.”