The Toyotomi Blades

28

I made my way farther up the mountainside and hid in the forest. Whenever I stopped to listen for the sounds of pursuit I heard nothing but an eerie stillness and the sound of a light breeze rustling the tree branches. I started thinking about making my way back towards the meadow when I realized I was on the side of the stream with the rocks shaped like the letter M and already up the steep slope where the rocks perched.

I decided to check out the rocks. I wasn’t motivated by greed. By this time, thoughts of actually keeping any treasure were the furthest thing from my mind. I was motivated by an intense curiosity and a desire to see things to their conclusion. I know what curiosity did to the cat, but I wasn’t a cat. I hoped.

I cut to my left and started making my way through the forest. After twenty minutes or so, I came out of the trees and I was confronted by the outcropping of rocks, which appeared very much like a castle close up. I looked around carefully to make sure that none of my pursuers were near, then slowly approached the rocks.

When I got up to the rocks, I realized there was a kind of seam in their face, a fissure that led back into the rock. I peered down the fissure and saw what looked like the entrance to a cave. Taking one last look around to make sure I was alone, I walked into the fissure and what lay beyond.

As I approached the cave entrance I was able to see that it was overgrown with brush. I don’t know if this was how it was almost four hundred years ago when the treasure was placed here, but now it was a perfect hiding place because it was almost totally invisible until you were right on it. I peered into the cave, down a natural tunnel that was six to seven feet high at the entrance. The sunlight did not penetrate into the depths.

I entered and felt something crunching under my feet. I looked down and saw some bleached animal bones. Fortunately, they were all small bones and none were big enough to be human. At least that’s what I told myself. Over the years, some wild animal had evidently used the cave as a den. I hoped whatever animal was involved wasn’t currently in residence.

I stopped for a few moments to let my eyes get used to the darkness, but it wasn’t much use. The light from the entrance was swallowed up about fifteen feet down the tunnel. I didn’t have a flashlight, but I wasn’t about to let something like good sense stop me. I felt I was close to the treasure and the allure of gold easily pierced the darkness in front of me. Blind, I plunged deeper into the cave, out of the half light of the entrance and into the black.

I moved in short shuffling steps, holding my hands above me at head height to make sure I didn’t bump into a low ceiling. As I got into the cave, the air was damp and heavy and the velvet darkness soon swallowed up any remaining visibility. I had no feeling for how large or small the cave might be. I thought it would be a good strategy to get to one wall and brush my hands against it.

Before I could do that I bumped into something. It startled me because although behind me I could still dimly see the light from the entrance, in front of me it was pitch black. I stopped and reached down. Instead of feeling a solid object, something crumbled under my hand. I felt like I was plunging my hand into a large mound of dry leaves. I couldn’t figure out what it was. It was weird and unsettling.

“You know,” I said out loud, “this is the final dumb thing you’ve done on a pretty dumb day.” I turned around and groped towards the light of the cave entrance. I didn’t know what I had encountered, but I did know I didn’t like it.

As I walked out of the cave, before my eyes could adjust from the gloom and darkness of the interior to the sunlight, a blow struck me across the shoulder and base of my neck. Stumbling with pain and surprise, I fell to one knee, grabbing at my shoulder. I looked up and saw Professor Hirota advancing towards me. He had somehow appeared behind me at the cave’s entrance. In Hirota’s hands, held before him like an ancient samurai sword, was a tree branch.

I scrambled to my feet and took a step backwards before the advancing tip of the tree limb could strike another blow. I was trapped in the narrow fissure that led to the cave entrance and couldn’t move to the right or left, only backwards.

Hirota did not smile. His face was set in rigid lines, his eyes watching every move I made. “Are you surprised to see me?” he asked.

“A little, but I figured you knew more than you were telling when you sent me off to Kyoto to meet with Sonoda-san instead of just telling me the legend. It was also strange that Sonoda-san’s blade wasn’t stolen, which could mean either you or Sonoda-san were involved. Besides, you didn’t have the hands of a scholar. Most Japanese wouldn’t notice because they bow, but a Western handshake can tell you a lot.” Actually, I wasn’t that clever. With him standing before me, a lot of things clicked into place, but the truth was that I was very surprised to see him. However, when you’re shocked, hurt, and scared spitless, a little stupid macho posturing is allowed. It comes from watching too many Humphrey Bogart movies. “Where did you come from?” I asked.

“From nowhere. I am the shadow. I am the wind. The way of Ninjitsu teaches me to be invisible.”

“Ninjitsu?”

“The way of the Ninja,” Hirota said. “I was quite invisible and you walked right past me.”

I didn’t believe him. It was his turn to do some macho posturing. It’s a male thing. My eyes darted past him and I searched for where he had been hiding. I couldn’t see a place in the narrow confines of the fissure. Maybe he was invisible. He saw my eyes looking around and he smiled. It was a smile that brought me no comfort.

“I see you don’t believe me,” Hirota said. “In that case, I don’t suppose you would believe that a Ninja can see into your heart and that I knew you were coming here.”

I looked at him warily, but made no reply. Considering our relative positions, I thought it was best to curb my tongue.

“You spotted this place when you and the girl were eating down by the river bank,” Hirota continued. “My companions decided it was time to remove you from the picture. They can be a bunch of asses at times, but you have been a bloody irritant to us. In fact, in a way, you are the cause of all this.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I saw your picture in the Asahi Shimbun and realized you were holding a Toyotomi blade. I’ve tracked the locations of the blades for years. Your photograph showed me the blade that I needed most of all, and it spurred me to action.”

I looked behind me at the forest. I wondered what my chances were of getting back into the safety of the woods.

Hirota saw me glancing towards the shelter of the trees. “I wouldn’t plan on it,” he said. “The back of your head would make a tempting target if you started to run away from me. I’m not sure how fast you can run, but it would be an interesting game to see if I could catch you.” He smiled. “Besides, I have a gun in my pocket.”

Then I wondered if I could stall Hirota until Mariko arrived with the police. As if reading my mind, Hirota added, “I’ll make the decision what to do with you long before your girlfriend has a chance to get back with the police. It will take them quite a while to get here. Japanese police are not paragons of efficiency.”

Hirota took a quick step forward and I jumped back. Hirota laughed, enjoying the game. “Do you know that at times students are killed with wooden kendo swords? The swords have lead in them to approximate the heft and feel of a real sword and in the heat of a match students sometimes get carried away and there are serious injuries or even death. This tree limb-” Hirota lifted the tip of the limb slightly-“does not have the same feel as a sword, but I can still make it do almost anything I wish. For instance, I could quite easily shatter your kneecap or poke out an eye.”

He made no move to put either threat into action, so I said, “Why would you want to do that?” I wanted it to sound nonchalant, but I’m afraid it came out with a bit of a quaver.

“Because right now I am cross and feel cheated. More important, you are part of the reason I was cheated.”

I decided to try and change the subject. “You said I had the blade you wanted most of all, but that was only five of them. One’s still missing.”

“I have the missing sixth blade. It’s been in my family for generations. We’ve always been taught to hide the fact, and unlike Sonoda-san’s family, we have. It’s foolish, I know, because the Toyotomi are never coming back. Still, if a family can be loyal to a certain brand of automobile, buying nothing but that brand across generations, I guess my family’s loyalty to the responsibilities they accepted along with the sword isn’t too peculiar.”

“And you stole the blade in New York? The police said they thought someone was lowered from the roof.”

He sneered. “The police everywhere have no imagination. Ninja have tools used to scale steep castle walls. They work amazingly well on a modern skyscraper.”

“And the man killed in the robbery?”

Hirota smiled again. “Why would I admit to doing that?”

That gave me my first hope that I might get out of this alive. He wouldn’t be cautious if he thought I wouldn’t be around to testify against him.

“I will tell you one thing,” Hirota continued.

“What’s that?”

“Studying to kill a man and actually killing one are two very different things.”

I was going to pursue this interesting statement, but decided discretion really is the better part of valor. Instead, I asked, “What about the Rotterdam blade?”

Hirota laughed. “That was trivial. All it took was a piece of string, a wire, and the ability to blend into a group of Japanese tourists. If you think about it, I’m sure someone as clever as you will be able to figure that one out.”

“And the student who was accused of stealing the sword from the Japanese National Museum?”

The smile was wiped from Hirota’s face. Bad move on my part.

“I was in Los Angeles trying to steal your sword from your flat when the student, Ishibashi, died.”

“The burglar that Mrs. Hernandez saw!”

“Is that the old woman who lives above your flat?”

“Yes.”

“She caused me a little difficulty. I had to cut short my search of your flat when the police showed up, but I would have returned the next night to finish the job. Instead I had an excited message from my colleagues that you were in Japan with the sword and would be appearing on a television show.” The TV promo. “I told them to follow you to see what hotel you were staying at while I arranged a flight back to Japan. Unfortunately, their enthusiasm exceeded their ability to perform even that simple task, and they decided to catch you and force you to give them the sword. Fools. When I got back to Japan and found out that the TV show was trying to contact me about the blades, I was ecstatic. When you actually gave me your blade to examine, I thanked the gods.”

“So you were in Los Angeles when the student died?”

“Yes. Ishibashi was a student of mine. He was going to Waseda, but also taking a class in Japanese history from me at All Japan University. He took the sword from the Japan National Museum to please me. I would not have hurt him.”

“So it was actually a suicide?”

Hirota looked at me a long minute. Then he said, “The members of a group like the Nippon Tokkotai may be filled with Yamato Damashii, but they aren’t always filled with good judgment. They thought the proper way to insure silence in Ishibashi was to eliminate him. If I was in Japan, I would not have allowed it.”

“Who did it?”

Another pause. Then Hirota said, “You took care of Mr. Kim very smartly with a rock. It knocked the treasure hunting zeal out of him.”

“So Kim killed the student?”

Hirota smiled. “Even the Japanese police might come to the truth of things if they stopped accepting any plausible explanation and sought the facts.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Hirota shrugged. “Have you had a chance to inspect the treasures that our long search has brought us?”

“It was too dark for me,” I admitted. “I couldn’t tell what was in there. I bumped into something that felt weird, but other than that…” I let the sentence trail away. I kept my eyes on the tree limb Hirota held in front of him.

“After I explored the treasures in the cave, I was thoroughly disgusted. I told my companions and they wanted to leave immediately. Especially Mr. Kim. But I came back alone to see if there was something I had missed. I saw you just as you entered the cave. I picked up a branch and waited for you because I wanted to know your reaction to the treasure in the cave.”

“I didn’t have a flashlight. I couldn’t see what’s in the cave.”

Hirota laughed. “The master detective and you forgot to bring a flashlight. Amazing.”

“What’s in the cave?” I asked.

“Bails of rotting silk and rotting brocades. That’s all that’s in the cave. We looked it over quite carefully. There’s no gold and there’s no silver, just rotting clothes left to turn to dust after hundreds of years of decay. It was quite a disappointment. We had plans for the money we assumed would be there.”

“Could the gold or silver be buried someplace in the cave?”

“The floor and walls are solid rock. Thanks to your meddling, I won’t have a chance to find out for sure, but I think that the gold and silver are gone. Assuming they were ever in there, someone must have found them and took them. For some reason, they left all the brocade and silk clothes. Maybe when the treasure was found, they were already rotting. You know, it took me a long time to match the map found on the blades to the right area of Japan. I don’t see how it was possible for you to put together a map without all six of the blades.”

“We used a computer. We matched the patterns on the five blades we had to a computerized map of Japan. That’s how I ended up here.”

Hirota shook his head. “All this high technology is the ruin of Japan. It’s made us forget our traditions and heritage. Soon we’ll be just a pale imitation of the United States.” I figured if I could keep him talking I could play for time. As Hirota talked, the blade dipped downwards in very slow increments.

“Everybody wants to preserve their culture,” I said. “But you know Japan can never go back. For better or worse, it’s wedded to the West. That wedding has brought a lot of benefits.”

“It’s also had a great price: the restructuring of our national identity.”

“But your culture was changing anyway. Even before the war, Japanese culture was not like the culture of the people who left that treasure in there. Three hundred years of social evolution saw to that. You can’t go back.”

“But we want to go back. We yearn to go back. With the help of groups like the Nippon Tokkotai, we will go back. It’s simply a matter of gathering enough money to further our program.”

“Is that what this is all about? Money?” I asked.

“With the bursting of our bubble economy, the funding for the Nippon Tokkotai has dried up,” Hirota said. “Japanese politics is fueled by money, much like the politics in your own country. The organization saw this as a way of raising large amounts of cash to finance activities. We need that cash to become a force in national politics in Japan, to return us to the values we’ve forgotten since our defeat in the Pacific War. We needed that treasure, and now it’s gone.”

“The treasure would have been gone whether I got involved or not.”

Hirota nodded. “I suppose so. A very logical observation. I think that’s what’s wrong with all of us now. At least us Japanese.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve become too logical. Despite what you Westerners think, we Japanese have always been a very emotional people. We cry at poems and think suicide can be beautiful. In the ancient days, the samurai would follow duty and emotion and not logic. We still tend to do that sometimes, but more and more we Japanese are becoming rational creatures of the Western world.” Hirota’s tree limb was now pointing towards the ground. “Three hundred years ago, I’d have killed you just for revenge and then killed myself for failing.”

“But it’s not three hundred years ago.”

“True. More’s the pity. I’m sure my friends from the Nippon Tokkotai have already left. In a remote location like this, it’s going to be easy enough for the police to radio ahead and set up a roadblock, once your girlfriend gets to them. I still have to decide what I’m going to do with myself.” He paused. “And with you.”

“Do you remember the end to Kurosawa’s film Hidden Fortress?” I asked.

He looked at me like I had lost my mind, asking a question about an old samurai movie. Then he understood my point and laughed. “You mean the part where the bad guy captures Toshiro Mifune, but lets him go because that’s the honorable thing to do?”

Bingo. “That’s the part exactly. That movie reflects the Japan you say you love. It recognizes that bushido, the way of the warrior, involves honor and chivalry. Any rivalry between us had nothing to do with you and me personally. I didn’t know who I was competing with to find the treasure, and frankly you weren’t at the top of my list. Our rivalry was over finding that.” I nodded towards the treasure cave. “You had the six blades and I had the technology that you say is ruining Japan. We both got here at the same time. I’d prefer a clear win for technology because that would mean that you wouldn’t be standing here in front of me, but if I get out of this, I’ll be satisfied with a draw.

“Despite your talk of suicide, I think you want to live. It’s occurred to me that it will be a lot easier for you to live if I live, too. The News Pop television show is going to do a special about the blades in a few days, and if you kill me, that special will be all about me. Not because they love me at News Pop, but because it will mean terrific ratings for them. The death of some Mafia Don in New York isn’t a big story in Japan, but killing me while I’m investigating something for News Pop will be big news here. If they capture your companions from the Nippon Tokkotai, as you think they will, even the Japanese police will eventually figure out your involvement. With the pressure from television if I die, it will be a lot harder for you to get away.”

“So I’m supposed to just release you?”

“It’s what happened in Hidden Fortress.”

Hirota laughed. He shook his head. “I must be a fool, letting you talk me into something based on an old samurai movie.” He dropped the tree limb. If Akira Kurosawa, the director of Hidden Fortress, had been there, I’d have kissed him.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“There’s a Japanese tradition of defeated leaders and bandits taking to the mountains. I’m going to see that particular tradition doesn’t die. It’s been an interesting experience meeting you, and some day, assuming we ever see each other again, you’re going to have explain to me all the computer magic you used to find this place.”

Hirota walked past me, moving rapidly towards the forest.

“Hirota!” I shouted just before he entered the woods. He turned to look at me, puzzled. “You were above the entrance of the cave and dropped down on me, hitting me as you hit the ground. That’s why I didn’t see you when I came out of the cave.”

He grinned. “You’re too damn smart. You’ll take the mystery out of life, if you don’t watch it. Then it won’t be fun.”

Rubbing my shoulder, I stood watching while he disappeared into the woods.