The doshin had ten guards to feed counting himself—and no one to do the cooking. The regular cook was home ill and her family was tending her. The doshin uttered another curse and reached for the rice. “Don’t touch that Mr. Samurai,” a feminine voice called. “I bet you haven’t washed the rice, the vegetables, or your hands.”

  The head doshin and six hungry men gawked at the young woman. Their smiles pleased Midori.

  “Can you cook?” the doshin asked.

  Midori liked the first question. Not, “Who are you?” But, “Can you cook?” These men were hungry. The Buddha was smiling on the Five Families.

  “That is what I’m here for,” Midori said as she swished her way to the cutting table in her too-tight kimono. “Ooi, samurai just sit back and watch a professional at work.” Then she stopped to scan the faces of each and asked, “Is anyone single?”

  Several raised their hands. “Don’t worry about that, woman. I need to get the guard set, and they need to eat first. How long?” the doshin demanded.

  “Is the water boiling yet?” Midori asked.

  “Yes,” one of the guards said, raising the lid on the black kettle with metal tongs.

  “Then if you find me a sharp knife, I will get to work,” she complied. “How many men?”

  “Ten total,” the doshin said.

  “Get two to wash their hands and help me wash the rice. They can also help me pour it into the kettle. We will have to wait until it boils down. For ten men, I think thirty minutes will be enough. While the rice is simmering, we will cut the daikon, prepare the miso soup, and drop in the tofu. I will use the eggs and the soy sauce to make a paste to pour over the rice. Then I will add a little seaweed, and we will be eating. Yes, thirty minutes for all,” Midori predicted.

  For the first time this afternoon, the doshin smiled. “Thank you. I was worried we might be late setting the guard.”

  “Nothing to worry about, Mr. Samurai,” Midori said batting her eyes. “Are you single?”

  The doshin dropped his paper roster. “Don’t worry about that. Just get us fed. Keep a separate bowl aside,” he instructed.

  “Oh,” Midori said. “Is that your special bowl?”

  “No, silly, it is for the prisoner,” he said.

  “Prisoner,” Midori exclaimed. “I have to feed prisoners too? My cousin said I was to feed the guards.”

  “Don’t worry. We only have one prisoner and I counted him in with a ten,” the doshin explained.

  “Okay,” Midori said, appearing unconcerned. “Let’s get to work.”

  As she promised, thirty minutes later, guards slurped miso soup mixed with rice and raw eggs poured over strips of seaweed.

  “Woman, this is very good,” the doshin exclaimed.

  “I have ability,” she said, “and did I tell you I was single?”

  “You may have mentioned it once or twice,” the doshin said. “But you won’t be for long when word of your cooking gets out.”

  Midori blushed on cue and managed a giggle. Now that their bellies were full, the police officers started eyeing her appreciatively. The doshin noticed and decided to nip their attention in the bud.

  “Come with me woman. We have to feed the prisoner.”

  “Oh my! Is he dangerous?”

  “Very, he is one of the Fox Gang. But don’t worry. He is tied, and I will be there,” the doshin said.

  “Well, as long as you are there to protect me,” she said, “I don’t mind.” Midori blushed again. Then she retrieved the remaining food, placed it in a bowl along with some tea, and set it all on a lacquered tray. Then she covered the tray to keep it warm. Midori followed the doshin into the bowels of the Hatchobori, her bare feet slapping the hard wood floors.

  The doshin stopped at the entrance to the center cell where two guards stood outside the large wooden bars. Midori could see the prisoner in the center of the cell. He was naked except for his loincloth. He was sitting upright with his legs out in front of him. A rope bound his legs together. His arms were tied behind him, and he was lashed to a large post in the center of the cell.

  Midori studied the prisoner for a few moments as the doshin asked the guards questions. She was interested in his eyes. They were darting everywhere. She would have to be on her game with this one. He appeared to be a young man. From what she could discern from his appearance, he had not been tortured. She had expected to find him beaten and bleeding. His excellent health could work against their plans. A healthy man was a lot harder to track.

  The doshin ordered the guards to report to the kitchen for the evening meal. He and the woman would feed the prisoner. The guards looked approvingly at Midori’s face, tight kimono, and bare ankles. They then opted for food instead of exchanging ribald comments about the scullery maid. One passed the keys to the doshin, and then both took off down the dark corridor towards the food.

  “Do not get too close to him,” he warned.

  “Oh Mr. Samurai, surely you tease me. He is all tied up. How is he going to eat if I don’t feed him?” she asked.

  “Let me check his ropes before you go in,” he said. Then opening a small rectangular door and bending over as he entered the cell, the doshin checked the ropes binding the prisoner’s hands and feet. Only then did he signal for Midori to enter. Midori bent down and entered the cell, taking offense at the smell with a wrinkled nose. She moved beside the prisoner with her tray, removed the top of the tray, and took out his teacup. Then she placed the lid back on the tray.

  “Gomen, Mr. Fox, but I have to feed you because this samurai will not loosen your ropes. Do you wish tea by itself or over your rice?”

  The Fox stared into Midori’s eyes. “Do you have anything else to go over the rice?” he asked.

  Midori broke into a radiant smile. “Yes, I have an egg and soy sauce mixed with some seaweed.”

  “Then I shall have the tea for later,” the prisoner said.

  “Excellent Mr. Fox,” Midori responded, jerking her head back toward the tray. Her hair ornament fell onto the floor with a slight tinkle.

  “Gomen,” Midori said, retrieving the ornament and placing it hastily into her hair.

  Next, she retrieved the rice, mixed it with soy paste using a clean pair of ohashi eating sticks, and placed a small rectangular section of seaweed onto the mass. Then she closed seaweed around the rice mix with the chopsticks and moved the entire bowl toward the prisoner’s lips. She nodded her head to ensure he was ready and lifted the gelatinous mass to his lips. He opened, and took the food, and began to chew.

  She chatted away during the whole meal. She talked about nothing and told him he was very good-looking and that she was single. Then she chatted that her cousin was married, but how her mother wanted her to settle down as well, but the prospects were slim. Since she had been at the Hatchobori, she had seen many available men. Maybe her prospects would change. When she had finished holding his tea cup to his lips after the meal, the prisoner looked at the doshin.

  “Next time I’ll go hungry.”

  The doshin smiled. “She does get on the nerves, doesn’t she?”

  As Midori arranged the empty dishes onto her tray, she moved around the prisoner’s legs and continued to chatter away as if she had not heard. When the doshin moved toward the small exit, he faced away from the prisoner. She bent and reached for the tray, and her hair ornament fell silently onto the prisoner’s legs. He immediately moved his knees apart so that the trinket fell to the floor below his legs and then closed his knees so Midori could not see it had fallen.

  Midori rose up and turned toward the prisoner. “Well, it was really nice speaking with you Mr. Fox; I probably won’t see you again.” She bowed to him and moved to follow the doshin out of the cell. Once in the court, the doshin locked the cell behind her.

  “Can you take me back to the kitchen? My cousin would want me to wash these dishes and get everything prepared for breakfast in the morning,” she said.

  “Follow me,” the doshin said, and he and Midori disappeared down the narrow corridor.

  An hour later, Midori emerged from the police station and turned down a dark alley. Within moments, she was in the clothing of an Abe Courier and crouched beside Myo. Not a word passed between them; none was needed. The fact that she was there meant all had gone according to plan. Now they must wait for the escape.

  Two hours later, a figure clad in the traditional black kimono of a police officer with a red-handled jutte in his obi moved out of the alleyway behind the Hatchobori and onto the street. He looked in all directions before moving. When he did move, he adopted a completely different gate as he sauntered, as any police officer would while making his rounds on familiar ground.

  Myo nodded to Midori. The chase was on.

  It was late evening, the hour of the dog. Some streets in Edo were barren, and some were bustling. In her Abe Courier clothing, Myo was wearing a blue han-gappa traveling jacket over a light-blue kimono with the hem tucked up into her obi. The coat was loose fitting with wide sleeves and held together by twig-like buttons at the shoulder and waist. The bottom of the coat struck her at mid-thigh. Below the hem of the coat, she wore momohiki underwear tucked into dark blue kyahan cloth gaiters that encased the top of the tabi socks that fit into her waraji straw sandals. A furiwake-nimotsu hung over her shoulder. The cloth covered flat rectangular basket connected by a heavy cloth strap across her back usually containing a straw mat for travelers sleeping in the open. A cloth hachi maki headband wrapped her head. On her forehead, the Abe Courier symbol of a wheel turning advertised on the cloth. In her right hand, she carried the suge-gasa conical straw hat used by travelers to keep out the rain and sun. She was dressed as a traveler. She looked like most everyone traversing the main roads connecting the country.

  Myo caught a glimpse of movement to her left. It was Mr. Brown. He knew she was there. However, he made no sign of recognition as he moved along the road that the escaped Fox Gang member had taken. Mr. Brown was dressed in a kamiko haori, the paper coat favored by commoners.

  Myo knew the other members of the team would be on the trail as well. Some would be paralleling the route the Fox was taking, sometimes keeping him in sight and sometimes not, relying on keeping an eye on other team members for course corrections.

  Myo realized their target was changing direction often. He was checking his back trail to ensure he had no followers. How wary he was would have a lot to do with how convincing Midori had been as the dizzy, man-hungry, talkative cook. Myo smiled to herself. She marveled at Midori’s acting ability. Her trademark character was quite annoying. Her performance must have been good as the Fox quit switching directions and took a western heading.

  Now they were moving through the Yoshiwara, the brothel district run by the government. At this time of night, its gates were wide open and the streets bustling. Myo knew that keeping their quarry in sight was going to be difficult. Inside the pleasure quarters, the Fox had the advantage. His police officer costume insured he would not be disturbed in the city, but if he was thinking of changing clothes, the pleasure district would be a good place to do it. All manner of men visited here regularly. Myo signaled Midori to close in and tighten the net.

  They tightened it so closely that Myo spotted all five of her team. The Fox disappeared into one of the larger brothels. He did not come up. Midori was closest and wandered over to the fish stall adjacent to the building. Women with painted faces populated the windows and doorways, enticing passersby to come inside. Bouncers hovered around the doorways to keep the peace and to ensure no woman escaped.

  Midori had changed her courier garb for that of an Edo housewife. She started to inspect the fish. While she talked to the fish merchant, she inquired of the business. “Not so good today,” the young man behind the counter said. He pointed at the fish on the table before him. “It is too bad, because we have sea bream caught fresh today.”

  Midori conversed with the young man and then with his father. The old man looked worried as he poured fresh water on the fish to keep them from drying out. He also waved a fan over them to keep the flies off. The obviously bored daughter, about Midori’s age, eyed every young man as they went by. Midori knew if she lingered any longer, she would draw the interest of the local police. However, she did not want to move as she had the best vantage point to see how and when the Fox emerged.

  She knew one of her team would be behind the hotel to ensure he made no exit in that direction. She did not really think that was an option. A high fence surrounded the pleasure district, like many Edo neighborhoods. There was only one gate leading in and out. If the Fox came in here, it was either to contact someone or to change clothes. She was betting on the latter and she needed to remain at the fish stand longer.

  “Ogi-san, can I get a discount if I help you sell some of this fish?” Midori asked.

  The father winced at being addressed as an old man and was about to answer when Midori moved.

  She did not wait for his reply. She tied her hair back and pulled a section of string from the role used to wrap the fish. She put one end of the string between her teeth and the other passed under her left arm over behind her back and under the right arm and then tied the two ends behind her neck. The strain successfully pulled her large kimono sleeves back above her elbows and safely out of the way. Then she grabbed the fish and turned to passersby coming from the brothel next door.

  She accosted a merchant as he went by. “Mister, you have enough money to waste on another woman. Why don’t you buy this nice fresh fish and take it home to your wife? She will know you’ve been thinking of her, and it will hide the stench of the whore you were with.”

  Midori’s loud voice stopped passersby. Anything out of the ordinary was worth a second look in the Yoshiwara. “Come big spender, buy a nice fish for your family,” she persisted.

  The merchant was not pleased with the attention he was getting. The longer this fishmonger harassed him, the greater the chance someone would recognize him. He reached into his kimono sleeve and produced a cloth purse. He extracted a small silver coin and placed it in Midori’s hand. Then he spun to go.

  “Mate!” Midori cried. The merchant froze. Midori placed the fish wrapped in brown paper into his arms a little too forcefully. “Make sure you rub some of that on your hair. It is the only way to kill the stink of that cheap perfume.”

  The onlookers burst into laughter and clapped. The humiliated merchant grabbed his fish and fled.

  Midori turned to the old man. “How much is the fish anyway?”

  “One copper coin,” he replied.

  Midori tossed him the silver coin. “Well, I guess I overcharge,” she said.

  Even the disinterested daughter rushed to her father’s side to inspect the coin.

  “By the Buddha,” the old man exclaimed. “We don’t make this much in a week.” He was all smiles.

  Midori picked up another fish and looked for her next victim. She did not have long to wait. A pilgrim emerged from the brothel and was the same height and weight as the Fox Gang member who entered as a police officer. It was him. Now, in a white traveling jacket and gators, he looked like a religious man on pilgrimage to holy sites and shrines. Midori placed herself in his path. He stopped and eyed her suspiciously.

  “Oh religious one, now that you’ve taken care of your earthly needs in this house of pleasure, why not purchase this fresh fish to offer to the monks so they will forgive you your sins?” she asked loudly.

  The traveler looked warily from left to right, checking for danger.

  “Do not look away old pious one. Buy this fish and seek redemption among your priests,” Midori continued. She hoped for two things. First, that she was making a large enough commotion for one of her team members to notice the man. Second, she hoped her disguise and voice pitch was different enough so he would not recognize the man-hungry cook who had fed him his supper earlier.

  Every time the man tried to slip past her, Midori countered with her fish. “This fish is your salvation. It is a cheap price to pay for your decidedly un-Buddha-like behavior with women of the flesh,” she said, pointing to the brothel.

  Midori was becoming the center of attention. People were stopping to hear her harass the brothel clients. She was collecting a large following. The Fox Gang member saw the crowd growing and thought about striking this harassing harpy with his large walking stick. In the end, he decided drawing any more attention to himself from the local crowd, and ultimately the police, was not a good idea. Instead, he reached into his sleeve and retrieved a silver coin. He tossed it to her and as she was catching it, he disappeared in the crowd.

  “What do you know? Now we are collecting alms from the righteous,” she exclaimed.

  The crowd broke into cheers and clapping. Midori placed the fish back on the stall table and handed the coin to the old man.

  “Thank you old man,” she said. “But I don’t think I would be good at this.” She untied the string behind her head and let the kimono sleeves drop back into place. Then she untied her hair and let it drop back around her face. “Mataai masho,” she said, telling no one in particular that she would see them later, and melted into the crowd.

  The young man who had been standing behind the fish stall looked to his father. “What just happened?”

  The old man looked at the two silver coins in his hand and at the retreating back of Midori. “I think we just saw our future,” he said. “Tomorrow we launch our new sales tactics.”

  The Fox Gang pilgrim did not change direction again. He struck out west of Edo. He did not take the Tokaido as he would need a government pass. Instead, he took the side roads that led from hamlet to hamlet. He traveled at a rapid pace, signifying he had no worry of pursuit. It was much easier for Myo and her team to shadow him. Myo placed three members of her team ahead of him and she, Midori, and Ao stayed behind. Midori was dressed in much the same clothing as the Fox. She was in pilgrim garb. Her two companions were dressed as Abe couriers. Someone always had the Fox in sight.

  He traveled all night long. Such a thing would be inconceivable to the common person, as bandits preyed on the unwary. A ninja, on the other hand, went where he wanted.