CHAPTER 45

Yuji raised his hands, as if in surrender. “I simply wondered why it mattered. Sir, I meant no disrespect.”

“Adding ‘sir’ does not transform your rudeness into proper speech.” Hiro glared at Yuji. “Answer my questions or leave, but show respect.”

Ana returned with a teapot and three cups on a tray. She set them in front of Father Mateo, bowed, and left the room.

Hiro noted the lack of snacks, a clear sign of Ana’s disapproval. The housekeeper had no issue serving treats to the prostitutes in Father Mateo’s congregation. She didn’t mind when the priest invited beggars to the house for tea. But somehow, in the space between the entry and the common room, Ana had judged the actor—and found him wanting.

Father Mateo prepared the tea, pouring water into the pot from the steaming kettle above the hearth. He poured the fragrant liquid into cups and passed the first one to the guest.

Yuji accepted the teacup and inhaled the steam with a slightly curled lip, as if anticipating a foul odor. His lips turned up in surprise, and he inhaled again, more deeply. He gazed at Father Mateo approvingly and sipped the tea.

Hiro wondered what made Yuji decide to claim the coin. Greed was an obvious motive, yet avarice seemed insufficient to justify the risk.

The three men sipped their tea in silence.

Yuji drained his cup and set it gently on the tray.

Father Mateo refilled the actor’s tea.

“Help me understand your world.” The Jesuit set the teapot down. “In Portugal, a man would never have an affair with his sister-in-law.”

Hiro stifled a smile. Father Mateo had grown adept at using his foreign status as a shield for topics Japanese people could never broach directly.

“In most of Japan, an affair like this is also inappropriate,” Yuji said, “but actors live by different rules. We must. Otherwise, we could not gain the following, and patronage, required to earn a living.”

“Required . . . for those whose talent does not suffice,” Hiro added.

Yuji narrowed his eyes a fraction. “Talent alone is never sufficient, even though it should be. Women see an attractive man on the stage and want to know him better. Actors gain no favor by ignoring such desires. Refuse these patrons, and they turn their interest to another.

“An actor, without an audience, is nothing. His flower fades like a blossom that blooms and dies in a single night. Actors’ wives must understand. They cannot expect the kind of husband a farmer or a peasant might receive.”

“And Chou understands this?” Father Mateo asked.

Yuji sighed. “She is young. But she will learn, in time.”

“None of this explains how you gave the golden coin to Emi,” Hiro said. “Or why.”

“I thought the gold would buy her silence. Our affair lasted only a single night—an indiscretion I regretted as soon as the moment passed.”

“At last you admit it openly,” Hiro said. “When did you give her the coin?”

“The morning after . . .” Yuji paused. “Two days before she died.”

“Two days?” Hiro asked. “We were led to believe your relationship lasted longer.”

“She tried to seduce me for weeks, but I refused until I learned she made herself available to men by the river. After that, I saw no reason to deny my own desire. But then, when it was over . . .”

“You desired her no longer,” Father Mateo said bitterly. “You despised her. So you gave her a golden coin and sent her away like a common prostitute.”

Yuji took another sip of tea. Hiro suspected the actor needed time to construct a plausible lie.

“Excuse me.” Father Mateo stood up and left the room through the kitchen door. It seemed an odd moment to use the latrine, but a person couldn’t always control that timing.

After the door slid shut behind Father Mateo, Yuji bowed his head. “I apologize for disturbing your afternoon.”

Hiro stared at the actor and said nothing.

Yuji fumbled his teacup but recovered it without spilling. He set the cup down carefully before him. “I only came to request the coin. Once I have it, I will leave and bother you no longer.”

Hiro did not believe the actor’s story about the coin. A man did not reclaim a gift he gave to hide his indiscretions.

“You waste your time and ours,” Hiro said. “We do not have the coin.”

Yuji hid his dismay behind a smile. “You had it yesterday.”

“Satsu wanted it. I believe he planned to throw it in the river.”

Yuji’s eyes widened in horror. “Throw it in the river? Why?”

“As an offering, to prevent Emi’s ghost from wandering on the bank forever.”

“Has he done it already?” Yuji asked.

“Does it matter?” Hiro shrugged. “I do not care.”

Yuji bowed from a seated position. “I apologize for taking so much of your time. If you will excuse me, I should go.”

“I think you should stay. I want to know what you said to Emi on the riverbank the night she died.”

Yuji looked nervous.

“Tell me, or tell the magistrate,” Hiro said.

“Th-the magistrate doesn’t care.” Yuji stammered over the words. “He forbade an investigation.”

“Would you care to test his interest?” Hiro shifted his balance as if to rise.

“No—all right, I saw her,” Yuji said. “I went to the river because I wanted Emi to return the coin. I worried that Chou would see it and misunderstand and get upset.

“I couldn’t risk the conversation at home, so I went to the river. Emi was there, talking with a merchant. He was drunk. I stayed near the bridge and waited for him to leave, but he wouldn’t go. He lay down on the bank, and Emi sat beside him. A few minutes later, he fell asleep.” Yuji smiled. “What sake adds to the will, it removes from the skill.”

“Spare me your feeble attempts at humor,” Hiro said.

“After the merchant fell asleep, Emi walked down to look at the water. I approached her and asked for the coin, but she refused to give it back.” Yuji’s eyes filled with tears. “She said she wanted to keep it as a token of our secret love.”

Hiro decided that Haru was right about Yuji’s acting skills—or lack thereof.

“She said, if I tried to take it, she would scream,” the actor continued. “There was a yoriki nearby. I couldn’t risk it.”

“A yoriki?” Hiro asked. “Not a dōshin?”

“Everyone in the theater district recognizes Yoriki Hosokawa,” Yuji said. “I assure you, Emi was alive when I left her. I have no reason to lie to you. I came here only to retrieve my coin.”

“For that, you must speak to Satsu.”

“You know as well as I that I will never mention it to Satsu.” Yuji bowed from the waist. “Please, may I have permission to leave, without you involving the magistrate?”

Hiro stood up. “You may leave. I will show you out.”