by I. J. Parker
Lady Hiroko gave her a grateful look. “I did love her. She was kind to me and I thought her very brave. In my heart, I wanted her to find happiness.”
Akiko nodded. “It’s surely a most romantic tale: the handsome prince who might have been emperor but for his karma, and the rejected beauty. Who can blame them for falling in love with each other? I take it they met in the palace?”
Akitada shot his sister a warning glance, and Lady Hiroko blushed rosy red again. “It was very proper. I was there, and so were others. It was only later that Masako left the palace to meet him.” She twisted her hands again and looked down.
Akiko smiled. “You helped her, I take it?”
Akitada said quickly, “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is to find out who knew about their assignations. You said the other ladies were less than kind to Lady Masako. Did she have enemies among them?”
Lady Hiroko looked shocked. “Oh, nothing like that. Not murder.” She paused. “Could it have been a madman?”
It was an interesting thought. The killer had been furiously angry, but he had also been coldly calculating.
Akiko gave Akitada a questioning look, and he shook his head slightly. “The possibility of an accidental meeting with a dangerous stranger is remote,” he said. “Given her story, someone must have considered her an obstacle to his plans or desires. It must have been a person who knew of these secret meetings. Can you think of anyone like that? It need merely be a matter of gossip being passed around.”
The novice looked at Akitada directly for the first time. “Late last year there was some gossip. I don’t know how it started and who may have heard. By then, Masako had already planned to leave the palace for good. You see, there was no chance of hiding the relationship any longer.”
Akiko said bluntly, “Because Lady Masako was with child.”
The young woman nodded.
“Could she have been desperate enough to consider killing herself?” Akitada asked, thinking of the letter the prince had mentioned to Kobe.
“Oh, no. She was very happy when she found out. It was her future, she said. Their future together, for the prince also wanted it. For her, the child was her whole life. Her life was only just beginning.”
Akitada was moved by this. “I see.” He did not add that she had fallen in love with a man who had not deserved such a sacrifice.
“You will find out who did this?” Hiroko asked anxiously.
“Yes.”
“Oh, yes,” echoed Akiko.
Hiroko nodded and reached into her sleeve to pull out a slender booklet. “I brought this. I wasn’t sure if I had the right to let anyone see it. Now I think perhaps you should read what she wrote. You may find something that tells you who did this. It’s Masako’s journal.”
Akiko gasped. “Her journal? Oh, that is excellent, isn’t it Akitada?”
Akitada looked at the thin volume of fine paper in its brocade cover. He was also flabbergasted by the good luck. “It may indeed hold some answer,” he said. “Thank you for your trust, Lady Hiroko. You will not regret it.”
“You will return it? It is all I have left of her.”
Akiko cried, “Of course.”
The homeward journey was filled with Akiko’s loud chatter and frequent demands to stop and have a peek at the journal. When a rather silent Akitada refused, she spent the time on various theories about what it might contain. They were almost home before Akitada had the heart to spoil her pleasure.
“It may not contain anything useful. If it did, Lady Hiroko would have told us. I doubt Lady Masako knew her danger. She would not have made the lonely journey to the villa, knowing that someone wished her dead.”
Akiko was silent for a moment. Then she raised her chin. “Well, in that case we must read between the lines. I have a knack for that sort of thing. I always knew ahead of time what the characters in Lady Murasaki’s novel were going to do next.”
Spies
Tora waited for Saburo in front of Mrs. Komiya’s little house. He passed the time charming Saburo’s landlady, who had noticed him and come out.
“I knew right away he was good man,” she said to Tora after he had introduced himself. “I got a feeling for that sort of thing. And I have a big heart. The poor man looks terrible, and people are unkind or fearful. They believe they see goblins and oni everywhere. Me, I’ve never seen one of those, so I’m not afraid.”
Tora regarded her with surprise. He had never really seen any apparitions either, but he believed in their existence with every fiber of his being. He said cautiously, “Well, Saburo’s had some bad luck. And you’re right. He’s a good man. I can testify to that.”
She smiled and nodded. “And you’re his friend. I must say you two couldn’t be more unlike.” She chuckled. “Hell and paradise, you might say.”
Tora shook his head. “You should look past the outside of things. That’s what Master Kung-fu-tse said.”
“I know, I know. But it’s what people think when they see you two together.”
Tora humphed and wished her gone. Fortunately, Saburo appeared around the corner at that moment, his scarred face breaking into one of his twisted smiles.
“Tora. Mrs. Komiya. You’ve met, I see.”
“Your friend’s a very handsome fellow.” Mrs. Komiya ogled Tora.
“Unlike me,” remarked Saburo, “but he’s a good sort for all that.”
This made her laugh, and she left them to their business.
“I only have a small room,” said Saburo. “Maybe we’d better talk while we’re strolling down to the river.”
“Suits me. The sun’s still high and a walk along the Katsura should be pretty this time of year.”
“Yes. The cherry trees are blooming. But you have news?”
Tora related recent events, making his own role in the rescue a fairly hair-raising feat.”
Saburo was suitably impressed. “I’m glad your master wasn’t badly injured.”
“Your master, too,” reminded Tora. “He sent me to tell you he wants you back.”
Saburo frowned. “I’m no use to him. I’m not even a good secretary. All I do all day long is to keep the accounts. It only takes an hour here or there.”
Tora stopped. “Don’t forget you have other useful skills.”
“Those are the ones he doesn’t approve of.”
Tora said, “He’ll come round. He always does.”
“I know he’s kind, but his position makes it impossible for him to allow the sort of things I do.”
“As long as you don’t kill anyone or cause a scandal, he doesn’t need to know precisely how you get information. He wants you to help me clear Genba.”
Saburo said nothing.
They took up their walk again. Long stretches of greenery hinted at the open countryside. Dotted about were occasional vegetable gardens with fruit trees in bloom and a shrine or two.
They reached the river and stopped under one of the flowering trees. Ducks paddled near the shore. The Katsura River would join the Kamo River south of the capital, and together they would become the Yodo and end up in the Inland Sea. They had both been there, working together and almost dying. It was then that Saburo had joined the Sugawara household.
“Remember Naniwa?” Tora asked.
“Yes.”
A long silence fell, then Saburo sighed. “I think what you propose may be possible, but I dislike concealing my activities from my master.”
Tora burst into a shout of laughter. “That’s surely a lie, my friend. Your whole life’s been dedicated to hiding what you do.”
Saburo’s lip twitched. “Well, yes. You got me there.”
“Anyway, that’s why I’m here. The master wants us to find Tokuzo’s killer, and it looks like he’s one of your kind. You’re a spy, and so is he probably. Who better to find him than you?”
Saburo shot Tora a glance. “You make it sound so easy. Do you have any proof he’s a shinobi?”
“I think he’s the m
an Genba encountered just before the murder. The one who dropped the assassin’s needle. And surely he’s the one who knocked you out inside the brothel and took back his needle?”
Saburo grunted. “It could have been coincidence.”
“Don’t be an idiot. You know I’m right. Someone paid him to kill Tokuzo. The master and I think it may have something to do with Tokuzo’s treatment of his girls.”
Tora explained about the deaths of Miyagi and Ozuru. “I don’t think Ozuru’s family is at the bottom of this, but I haven’t been able to get hold of Miyagi’s people. Their name was Satake. The neighbors say the old people moved away and died, but you never know. The master wasn’t satisfied. Maybe you could find out what happened to them?”
“Yes, but it could still just have been a robbery gone wrong. Tokuzo had all that gold in his place. Maybe he interrupted the robber.”
“You mean the guy Genba ran into was a robber?”
Saburo sighed. “No. If he was a shinobi, he wasn’t there for robbery. There could be someone else involved.”
Tora grinned. “Well, you should know. Will you look into it?
Saburo nodded.
They stood a while longer, watching the ducks and some boats on the river. Above them, the blue sky shimmered through the blossoms of the cherry tree. Then they parted, Tora to return home, and Saburo to begin his search.
Saburo wanted to prove himself. His self-respect had suffered severely when he was dismissed. But he faced a dilemma with this case. In spite of his words to Tora, he was convinced the killer had been a trained shinobi, a shadow warrior, as he himself had been. He had no proof of this, except the reasons Tora had cited and a strong suspicion about his identity.
Instead of going to the address Tora had given him, Saburo decided to talk to Shokichi first.
Shokichi was at work at this hour. At the Sasaya. Steeling himself, Saburo walked to the Willow Quarter and the late Tokuzo’s brothel. His arrival there caused consternation. The customers sitting around drinking stared at him. Saburo called the waitress, a plain girl who turned pale and pretended not to have heard.
“Hoh!” shouted Saburo again. “Service!”
No reaction.
“You there! Girl! Come here. What does a man have to do to get a drink in this place?”
Tokuzo’s mother put her head through a door to see what the shouting was about. The girl finally came, but she avoided looking at him.
“So,” sneered Saburo, “I’m not to your taste, am I?”
She shuddered. “What can I bring your honor?”
Saburo still smarted from her behavior. “How much for a night with you?”
She started shaking. “Twenty coppers,” she murmured so softly he could barely hear her.
“Too much for someone like you,” he sneered. “Where’s Shokichi?”
The girl turned and ran to the back door where she told the old woman who gave a nod and disappeared. Soon, another girl appeared. She was older than the first and approached him calmly, sitting down across from him.
“You asked for me, sir?” She found his good eye and smiled at him.
Bad teeth and a few pockmarks, thought Saburo, but not unattractive. Still, he was not here for that. “You’re Shokichi?” he asked. “Ohiro’s friend?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes.”
“I want to talk to you. Suppose we go upstairs?”
“That will cost you twenty coppers.”
He reached for the money. She bowed, rose, and took his hand, leading him to the backdoor, where the old woman waited. Shokichi passed her the coins. She counted, nodded, and disappeared into her room. Shokichi led him to the backyard and up the stairs to a room at the end.
There she placed a couple of dirty cushions on the floor and gestured to the bedding rolls. “You’ve paid. Do you want to make love first?”
“Thank you, no.” The offer pleased him. “You’re not frightened by my face?” he asked.
“No. I’m sorry you were hurt.”
Saburo did not know what to say. He had never met a woman who had offered herself to him in such a matter-of-fact manner. He looked at her silently and found her even more attractive, but he caught himself and said, “You’re back working here. Why? You tore up your contract like the others, didn’t you?”
“I sold it back to the old woman. I needed the money, and she needed someone who knows the business. Things are better. I look after the women.”
He said nothing to this. “I’m trying to help Genba and Ohiro. Tora told me about the two women who died. Miyagi’s parents are gone, and the house now belongs to strangers. Is there anything else you might recall?”
“I didn’t know her family left. They were her grandparents. Her parents died. Miyagi loved her grandparents and went to see them often, taking them what money she could. I think after she died, they had nothing to live on. It’s sad. They were good people who’d come down in the world.” She looked angry.
So Miyagi’s death had caused further misery. Perhaps the old people had also died because their only source of income was gone. “Was there anyone else?” he asked.
“She had a brother. He was a soldier up north. When Tokuzo mistreated her and she cried, I used to tell her to write to him. Miyagi could read and write a little. I don’t know if she did, but she never got any letters, and no brother ever came.”
“What was his name?”
She looked away. “She must have told me, but I don’t remember it. Sorry.” When Saburo said nothing, she added, “I expect he died a long time ago in the fighting. Or else he took a wife up north and won’t come back.”
Saburo looked at her steadily until she started fidgeting. “There must be someone else who killed Tokuzo,” she said nervously.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Thank you. You’ve been a lot of help.” He got to his feet.
“Help? How?” she asked, looking up at him.
“I don’t know yet.” He hesitated, then said in a rush, “Perhaps some day when you’re free, you’ll allow me to buy you a meal somewhere?”
She blushed. “Maybe, but we’re not supposed to meet customers outside. You could come back here.”
“No,” said Saburo, with a glance around. “You deserve better.”
He left disappointed and strangely stirred by the encounter. She had told him what he wanted to know, even though she had not intended to do so. She had lied about not knowing the brother’s name, and he admired her for it.
It was a bad situation all around.
He went next to the city administration for the western wards. There he asked for the property lists of the ward where the Satake family had resided. He found them quickly: grandfather, grandmother, father, mother, two children. Father and mother had died the same year four years previously, perhaps during the epidemic. The grandparents had remained with the grandchildren: a boy, Narimitsu and a younger girl, Nariko. Nariko must be Miyagi’s real name. The property had changed hands last year, a few months after Miyagi died.
So far, he was no closer. He had merely confirmed what Shokichi had told him. And yet he was certain she had lied about something else.
What if the brother had returned to the capital after all, only to find his sister dead and the family home sold? It would surely make him a prime suspect in Tokuzo’s murder. But how was he to prove this? And where would he find the man?
In Akitada’s household, Saburo had learned to be meticulous. He made another search, this time for the whereabouts of Miyagi’s grandparents. This produced nothing and suggested the old people had left the city. Since he did not know where they might have gone, consulting tax registers was pointless.
It was time to change to another tack. Late that night, Saburo visited a small monastery in the northern foothills. He had to walk and did not reach his destination until well past the hour of the boar. He hoped to get his information and set out on the return journey in time to reach the capital at day break and steal a few hours sleep
before reporting to his employer, the rice merchant.
The monastery was too insignificant for elaborate walls and gates, and it did not bother to lock people out. There was nothing to steal here. The monks who lived in this small outpost had other gifts.
As he passed between the wooden buildings, his steps mostly muffled by dewy grass, he looked for a light somewhere, a sign that one of the monks was awake even at this hour.
Instead, the hair on the back of his head suddenly tingled, and he jumped aside. The jump caused him to slip on the wet grass and come down hard on one knee and a hand. A black figure loomed momentarily, blocking out the starry sky. Then its weight crashed down on him.
Saburo grunted and struggled to free himself. In vain. The other man was bigger, younger, stronger. Giving up the unequal contest, he gasped, “Monkey on the roof.”
The other relaxed his grip slightly. “Shinobi?” he asked.
The voice was young. Feeling depressed by the difference between them, Saburo said, “Yes.”
The other jumped up and grasped Saburo’s wrist to pull him upright. In the darkness they faced each other. Their features were shadowy, but Saburo saw that the other was much taller and broader than he and felt a bit better.
His attacker reached for his face. “Mask?” he demanded.
“Ouch! No.” Saburo slapped the other’s hand away. “Mind your manners,” he growled.
“Sorry.” The young monk sounded contrite. “Didn’t know. What are you doing here?”
“I need information.”
“About what?”
“Let me speak to the abbot. Is it still the Reverend Raishin?”
“Yes. Come along then.”
They walked past several shadowy buildings and came to a smaller hall. All was dark inside, but the young monk stepped up on the veranda and cleared his throat. After a moment, a voice from inside asked, “Yes, what is it?”
“It’s Kangyo, Reverence. There’s a visitor here.”
They heard the sound of a flint, and then a soft golden glow seeped through the cracks of the door and a shuttered window. “Come in.”