Tora carried the shopping basket over his good arm, but his true errand did not involve shopping. The rain had let up, but the streets were muddy. Apart from some puddle-jumping urchins, people seemed to slink about like half-drowned rats.
The market was closed today, and he found Jirokichi’s girl-friend in a nearly empty wine shop, listlessly sweeping the dirt floor. She stopped when she saw Tora and looked him over. ‘I thought you were at death’s door,’ she said. ‘Your fine friends lie a lot.’
‘My fine friends never lie, though they may worry more than need be.’ Tora did not sit down and had no smile for Hoshina. ‘I want to see Jirokichi now,’ he said.
She did not refuse him, but glanced at the lone customer in the corner. ‘I can’t leave,’ she said.
‘Then tell me where he is.’
‘He’s much worse off than you are,’ she said.
Tora just gave her a stare. ‘I don’t care. I want to see him.’ He raised his voice. ‘Now!’
She turned away and went over to the customer. ‘Sorry, Jinzaemon,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to lock up. Come back tomorrow, please.’
The man was elderly and timid. He got up obediently and shuffled out. Hoshina locked and barred the door. Then she filled an earthenware pot with the stew that remained and took the empty cauldron outside.
Tora waited impatiently. When she returned with the clean cauldron, she set the rest of the shop to rights, then placed the earthenware pot in Tora’s basket and told him to follow her.
To his surprise, Hoshina took him to the other side of the capital where affluent and law-abiding people lived. There in the Seventh Ward, they entered a substantial house of the type normally occupied by minor officials or clerks working for the government. Tora doubted that her wine shop earned enough to support this lifestyle and gained a new respect for Jirokichi’s abilities as a thief.
Hoshina called out, ‘I’m home. I’ve brought Tora.’
Jirokichi’s voice came from the back of the house. ‘You’re early. Did you say you brought Tora?’
Hoshina turned from the flagstoned hallway into a kitchen, where she deposited the stew pot and Tora’s basket. ‘Come,’ she said.
Jirokichi reclined near the open veranda door of the main room. He was leaning on an armrest and had a quilt across his lap. His face was turned towards them, but hard to see against the watery light coming from outside.
Tora’s eyes went past him to an extraordinary garden, now glistening with moisture from the recent rain. Lush green cabbages grew next to a patch of healthy onions; cucumbers and beans climbed up a bamboo trellis; and enormous mounds of leaves cradled golden melons. Among all that bounty pecked some chickens, and two fat ducks poked their heads out of a bamboo cage.
Jirokichi laughed at Tora’s amazement, ‘Welcome to my humble abode, my hero. Hoshina and I are just a pair of humble farmers. How are you?’
Tora, seeing him lounging at his ease, scowled. ‘Alive, no thanks to you, Rat.’ But now he saw the effects of the vicious beating on Jirokichi’s face. His nose and mouth were heavily scabbed and swollen, one eye was still closed and black, and his body bore colorful bruises wherever his skin was bare. He moved only with difficulty and grimaced at the slightest change in position. Tora sat down and softened his tone. ‘And how goes it with you?’
Jirokichi gave him a lopsided grin. ‘It goes. It’ll be a while before I’ll be able to earn an honest gold piece again, but in time perhaps some slight activity will be possible.’
Hoshina snapped, ‘No more activity for you. You’re retired.’
Jirokichi winked at Tora. ‘She loves me. Can you believe it? And she thinks love gives her the right to mistreat me. Hoshina, my dove, some of the special wine for my friend.’
Tora looked after her. Jirokichi was right. Hanae bossed him around much the same way Hoshina did Jirokichi. It was strange that women treated the men they loved like bad little boys.
But he was here for a purpose, and the visit was long overdue. Reaching inside his shirt, he brought out a small package. He laid it down in front of Jirokichi. ‘Your gold. Count it.’
Jirokichi pushed it back. ‘You shame me,’ he said. ‘I owe you my life. Twice.’
Tora snapped, ‘I told you I don’t want your gold. I want to know about the fires.’
Jirokichi looked away. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘And I’ll tell you. I pay my debts, and this one… Well, it could cost me my life, but I owe you that. Very probably the knowledge will cost you yours, so be sure you know what you ask for.’
‘How the devil can I know, if you won’t tell me?’
Hoshina returned with wine and cups. ‘I brought home some of the bean stew. Do you want to eat?’
Tora shook his head, but Jirokichi smacked his lips. ‘Your good bean stew? Excellent! Tora will eat when he tastes it. The beans are from our garden.’
Hoshina left.
‘Well?’ said Tora, getting angry again.
‘Those boys, the ones that caught me?’
‘Yes, what about them?’
‘They’ve been working for a rich merchant in the Fifth Ward.’
Suddenly, a vivid memory surfaced: a fat man huddled with some street kids. He stared at Jirokichi. ‘Watanabe?’
Jirokichi looked offended. ‘You’ve known that all along? Then why bother me?’
‘I didn’t know I knew it. I saw him talking to some young rascals.’ Tora scowled and clenched his fists. ‘And that fat toad pretended to feel sorry for those poor bastards dying. Oh, he’ll be sorry for what he’s done.’
Jirokichi looked nervous. ‘Better leave it be.’
‘You’re a great coward, Jirokichi. How did you find out?’
Jirokichi fidgeted. ‘You won’t tell the police, will you?’
‘I have to.’
Hoshina came in and set down three bowls of stew. She joined them. ‘You cannot do that, Tora,’ she said. ‘They’ll arrest Jirokichi.’
Light dawned a second time. Tora grinned. ‘You mean you were breaking into Watanabe’s house when you found out?’
They both nodded. Jirokichi raised his bowl and slurped noisily. ‘Hoshina,’ he mumbled, chewing, ‘you’re an artist. Eat, Tora. It’s delicious.’
Tora sniffed his bowl cautiously, then tasted the soupy broth. It was good, but Jirokichi was clearly besotted with anything Hoshina did. He ate a little and said, ‘I hate to mention it, but Superintendent Kobe plans to question Hoshina. So it’s pretty well too late. Besides, I don’t know how to tell him about Watanabe without bringing up your name, but maybe I can make a deal.’
They looked at each other. Jirokichi sighed. ‘Well, I’d made up my mind to tell you anyway. One night I was getting ready to help myself to some of Watanabe’s gold… For the poor, you know. Make sure the superintendent understands that it was for the poor.’
Tora cast up his eyes. Of course.’
‘I was sitting on a beam right above his money chest when there was this loud pounding at the back door. Watanabe gets up and goes to answer it, cursing under his breath, and I creep into a corner of the roof to hide. He brings in three of the bastards – Takeo, Togo, and Chako. They want money from him for some work they’ve done.’
Tora interrupted, ‘Was that the night they caught you?’
Jirokichi raised his bowl and let the vegetables in the bottom drain into his mouth. ‘Yes. They saw me coming from the house. I thought I was dead, but the devils took their time.’
‘But you already knew someone was setting the fires.’
Jirokichi heaved an aggrieved sigh. ‘Are you going to let me tell the story? Yes, I knew Takeo and those young devils were setting fires. Most of us in the business suspected. But it wasn’t just a lark. They were being paid. They bragged about it. Said they worked for those above the clouds and laughed like it was a joke. You know, the fires of the gods? Only, it wasn’t the gods they meant. And there I was, caught in the house of their employer. I tell you I was so scared I almost wet my pants. Anyway, Watanabe goes to open his money chest, giving me a good view of piles of gold and silver that would feed the whole western city for a year. He hands the scum a few gold pieces and tells them to be more careful next time. They leave, he goes back to bed, and I take off without touching his gold.’ Jirokichi made a face. ‘Only, in the rush to get away, I didn’t look where I was going, and the bastards caught me in the street outside.’
Tora digested that. ‘Any idea why Watanabe wants to burn down businesses?’
Jirokichi shook his head and eyed Tora’s half-filled bowl. ‘That money chest was full. Watanabe’s a money lender. I bet he’s working for one of the great lords.’ He suddenly looked angry. ‘That’s the way it is in the world. The nobles borrow ready cash for their expensive lifestyles from men like Watanabe in exchange for protecting them from the law. There’s no difference between that and a protection racket.’ He gestured to Tora’s bowl. ‘Are you going to finish that?’
Tora was far enough removed from his own humble beginnings to be taken aback by Jirokichi’s comparison. ‘The great lords don’t burn down the city when they don’t get their money,’ he said sourly and pushed his bowl towards Jirokichi.
Jirokichi flared up. ‘Hey, that wasn’t the gang’s doing. That was Watanabe and his hired boys.’ He seized Tora’s bowl and ate.
‘Maybe, but if your friend Koichi and his buddies are such good guys, why did they let those young devils escape?’
Jirokichi put down his bowl. He looked glum. ‘Turns out Takeo’s Koichi’s son. Koichi’s a good man, but he’s a father. He hit Takeo hard for what he did to me, but he couldn’t let him be taken by the police.’
‘So Takeo’s still loose?’
Jirokichi nodded glumly.
Tora sneered. ‘Well, they caught his sister. She keeps company with a kid called Tojiro. What about him?’
Jirokichi burped. ‘Don’t know him. Don’t keep up with the family except to nod to Koichi when I see him.’
Hoshina said, ‘Don’t get them into trouble.’
‘Too late for that,’ said Tora, getting up. ‘When they tried to kill my master, the police arrested Koichi and the girl. They’ll make them talk, and that means they’ll get the young bastards, too.’
Jirokichi gulped, shook his head, and shrank into himself. ‘I’m sorry we met,’ he said heavily, then turned away to look out at his garden.
Tora looked down at him. ‘And I should’ve let them kill you,’ he snarled and stalked out.
Hoshina ran after him. ‘He doesn’t mean it, Tora. He’ll come round, you’ll see. But they’re his friends. His people.’
Tora stopped and looked at her. ‘And I’m not. Fair enough. And we should never help someone who isn’t one of us, right?’
She hung her head. ‘Nobody helps people like us.’
‘I did,’ Tora grunted and left, slamming the door behind him.