Flask of the Drunken Master Read Online Free Page B

one, until now.”
    “You won’t now, either,” Hiro said. “Not even beggars converse with their kind.”
    Father Mateo looked disappointed. “No man is untouchable to God.”
    “If you want to help Ginjiro, you will leave them unmolested.” Hiro started toward the brewery. “Besides, we need to speak with Ginjiro’s family.”
    The shutters across the storefront rattled open as Hiro approached. Tomiko stood alone in the doorway. Despite her reddened eyes, she shed no tears. Instead, she gave Hiro the even look of a competent merchant. Unlike a samurai woman, she had no need to act demure.
    “Good morning, Tomiko,” Hiro said in formal Japanese. “Please accept our condolences.”
    “My father did not kill Chikao,” Tomiko said. “I need your help to prove it.”
    Father Mateo joined Hiro at the door. “We will help in any way we can.”
    “Have you evidence to prove your father’s innocence?” Hiro asked.
    Tomiko’s shoulders drooped. She shook her head. “We were sleeping when the murder happened.”
    “The yoriki claims your father argued with Chikao last night,” Father Mateo said. “Did you hear it? Do you know what happened?”
    Tomiko shook her head again. “I didn’t work in the shop last night.”
    “Don’t worry,” Hiro said. “I was here. I saw the argument.”

 
    Chapter 6
    Father Mateo frowned. “You told the d ō shin you stayed home all night. You let me confirm a lie.”
    Hiro shrugged. “I stepped out during your prayer meeting, had one flask of sake, and returned. After that, I did stay home all night.”
    “So you heard Chikao and Ginjiro argue?” the Jesuit asked.
    Hiro found it surprising that the priest had not said more about the lie. Father Mateo’s love of truth, and Hiro’s selective honesty, had caused the two men problems more than once.
    “I heard the argument start,” Hiro said. “Something about an unpaid bill and Ginjiro’s support of Chikao’s petition to join the brewers’ guild. After that, they went into the alley, along with a third man, likely Chikao’s son.”
    “The alley?” Father Mateo asked. “The one where Chikao died?”
    “Yes,” Hiro said, “but they all came out again a short while later. Ginjiro returned to the brewery. The others went down the street.”
    “The bill belongs to Kaoru—Chikao’s son,” Tomiko said. “He owes us money and hasn’t paid.”
    She paused, as if debating whether she should speak her mind. At last she said, “Forgive me this request. I know you’ve solved other murders … helped the families. You owe us nothing, but I have no one else to ask…”
    She trailed off with a distant look in her eyes, as if remembering someone else—someone she might have asked under different circumstances. Hiro suspected she thought of Kazu, Hiro’s clansman and former drinking companion. Tomiko didn’t know that either man was a shinobi. Like everyone else, she believed that Hiro was only an interpreter and Kazu merely a clerk at the shogunate. Also, like everyone else of her gender, Tomiko had fallen for Kazu, despite the fact that she was an artisan’s daughter and could never marry a samurai.
    Hiro wondered how much Ginjiro’s daughter knew about the recent shogunate murder and Kazu’s subsequent disappearance from Kyoto.
    He would never ask.
    Father Mateo took Tomiko’s silence as a question. “We will investigate this murder, too.”
    “However, you must understand,” Hiro said, “if your father killed Chikao, our investigation will condemn him.”
    “It will not.” Tomiko straightened. “You will prove his innocence. I know it.”
    The noren that separated the shop from the rooms beyond pushed open. Ginjiro’s wife shuffled into the room and joined her daughter at the door. She blinked in surprise at the sight of the men in the entrance.
    “Matsui- san ,” Tomiko said, “I believe you know my mother, Yoka. Mother, do you remember our friend Matsui Hiro? His companion is a priest of the