by I. J. Parker
Tora appeared in his shirt, yawning and scratching his head. “Morning, sir. Is something wrong?”
“No. Can you get dressed and come to the house? I’d like your opinion on an idea I just had.”
Tora nodded and disappeared inside. Akitada strolled back, followed by Trouble. Someone was knocking at the gate, causing Trouble to bark and start into a lopsided run. The stable boy shot out of the stable, chewing a rice cake. He unlatched the small side gate and admitted a very old man who tottered in, weighed down by a large satchel he handed to the boy.
Akitada recognized the old carpenter. Tora had hired him outside Lord Sadanori’s residence, and he had later repaired the earthquake damage to the Sugawara house. He was surprised the old man was still alive, though perhaps only barely so.
Calling out a greeting, he startled both the boy and the ancient one.
“Is it the master himself?” the carpenter croaked, blinking against the morning sun and bending his creaking back into a bow. “Amida’s blessings on you and yours, Your Honor.”
“Thank you. And the same to you and your wife.”
“The old one’s gone. She wasn’t up to much anymore.”
“Very sorry to hear it. How do you manage by yourself?”
“My daughter cooks and cleans. That’s what a man has daughters for.”
Was it? The thought depressed Akitada who suddenly saw himself as a doddering old man waited on by Yasuko. He shook off the image.
“I see you’ve come to build a home for another couple. Have they told you that Genba is taking a wife?”
The old man chuckled. “He’s old enough to know better.”
“Perhaps, but as you say, women are useful creatures to have about the house.”
The carpenter pondered this. “They talk too much,” he finally said.
Tora joined them. “Ho, Juro,” he greeted the old man. “Bright and early, eh? Genba and Saburo are still sleeping.”
“I’ll get them up.” The carpenter tottered off toward the stable, followed by Trouble.
“Sorry I overslept, sir. We stopped off for wine after our errands. To drink to Genba and Ohiro’s happiness.”
Akitada smiled. “Yes, of course. But come inside. I thought of something.”
In his room, he threw open the shutters. They sat down on the veranda, and Akitada said, “You remember that old woman on the mountain? When I talked to her about the night of the murder, she told me she’d seen both Lady Masako and the prince arrive. They were on horseback and passed her house on their way to the villa.”
Tora’s brows rose. “Together?”
“No. Lady Masako came first.”
“Right. That’s what we’ve known all along.”
“The old woman recognized the prince’s horse by the blaze on its forehead.”
Tora frowned. “So?”
“The prince has said all along he was very late that night. It was getting dark when he left the capital, and it was nighttime when he reached the villa. How did she see him?”
“Oh. That is strange. But she’s old. She probably got the days mixed up.”
“I don’t think so. I think she saw the murderer arrive right after Lady Masako.”
Tora’s eyes widened. “But what about the horse?”
“A horse with a white mark on its head isn’t a rarity. And I bet she didn’t see very clearly. It had started snowing. She simply assumed the horseman was the prince because she expected him.”
“But who was it then?”
Akitada reached for Lady Masako’s journal and held it up. “The last thing Lady Masako wrote was, ‘A winter storm! Your voice is that of thunder and my sleeves are soaked with tears.’”
“Was there a storm?”
“No, Tora. Young ladies are given to express themselves poetically. She quarreled with someone.”
“Right. Who with?”
“She doesn’t say.”
“But it wasn’t the prince?”
“No, I don’t think it was the prince.”
Tora thought. His face brightened. “Remember how Lord Masaie’s cook said her master was in the capital then? I bet he went to talk to his daughter again.”
Akitada nodded. “Perhaps. It would make sense. I think it’s time we found out what Masaie was up to.”
Tora got up. “I’ll have another talk with the cook,” he offered.
“No. We’ll talk to his lordship himself.”
“Even better, sir.” Tora looked pleased, but then his face fell. He cleared his throat. “I have news. We know who killed Tokuzo, sir.”
Akitada was not at all sure if this was good news. “You do?”
“It was Bashan.”
“Bashan?” Akitada was at a loss. “You mean the blind masseur who put my shoulder back?”
“Yes, only he isn’t blind.”
“Really?”
Tora nodded.
Akitada thought about it. “It’s possible. Men will do strange things to earn a living. But what makes you think he killed the man?”
Tora sighed. “Genba said the stranger smelled like a bathhouse.”
Akitada did not laugh. Recognizing a smell had once before led them to a suspect. “Explain!”
Tora did so.
Akitada was impressed by their accomplishment. “That was extremely well done,” he said warmly. “How do you plan to proceed?”
“We … er … proceeded already, sir. We confronted him.”
“Oh? He denied everything, I take it.”
“At first, but he could see we knew all of it.” Tora looked distinctly uncomfortable now and shifted from one foot to the other.
“Don’t make me ask a thousand questions. What happened?”
“We’ve arranged to meet him tonight to discuss what is to be done.”
Silence fell.
Akitada decided they had let the killer go because they approved of his actions. Truth to tell, they had not had many options. They could have taken their story to Kobe, who would not have given it any credence. Or they could have come to him. Thank heaven they had not. At least he had not been faced with making that choice.
He sighed. “I see. Well, I don’t suppose he’ll show up for the meeting. He’ll be miles from the capital by now. You’d better inform Kobe at some point.”
Tora gaped. “You aren’t angry?” he asked.
“Not angry, no. But I hope you’re right about Bashan. If he’s a professional killer, he may practice his craft on an innocent person next time.”
Tora hung his head. “We’re pretty sure he was telling the truth. And he knew we had no proof he was the one who killed Tokuzo.”
“Everything considered, not a very satisfactory solution. Kobe won’t like it either.” Akitada shook his head. “But it isn’t all bad. We have Genba back, and some of the women in the Willow Quarter have a better life.”
They smiled at each other.
Akitada was anxious to settle the murder of Lady Masako, but he had a living to earn. He was late getting to the ministry where his pronounced limp and the stiff way in which he held his bruised body served as an excuse.
Kaneie was in and had heard of his mishap.
“There you are,” he cried, eyeing Akitada sharply. “You don’t look too bad. People said you suffered a terrible injury.”
“Good morning, sir. I took a tumble in the mountains two days ago. I suppose the fact they had to bring me back on a litter caused some talk. I’m quite well again, just a little stiff, and my left arm is still sore. Nothing to stop me from dealing with work, though.”
“I’m relieved it wasn’t worse. Nobody knew what to make of it. I just heard this morning, or I would have stopped by.”
“Thank you, sir. You’re very kind.” Akitada smiled at Kaneie. They liked each other, and he thought it very likely that Kaneie would have visited.
“You fell in the mountains? Not by any chance at Prince Atsuhira’s place?”
Akitada flushed. “I’m afraid so.
”
“I knew that business would get you in trouble. Well, I hope the effort wasn’t a total disaster.”
“I hope not, sir. Speaking of the matter, do you happen to know if Lord Masaie is in town?”
Kaneie’s eyebrows shot up. “You haven’t had enough yet? Yes, Maseie and his son are in the capital. Is he in trouble? Never mind answering that.”
“I thought he would have left the capital after the scandal with his daughter.”
“He did, but he’s a proud man. His son was dismissed from the emperor’s guard, and Masaie has come back to protest the matter.”
“Surely they could not dismiss Masanaga without cause.”
“With Masanaga there was always plenty of cause. He’s a drunkard and a troublemaker. In the past, his sister’s position protected him.”
“I see. Well, if you have no new instructions for me, I shall get to work.”
The long break enjoyed by officials meant the first day of the week was busy as everyone tried to catch up. Akitada got home well after dark. He had time only to pour himself some wine and step out on his veranda to look up at a starry sky and smell the fragrance of some flowering shrub before Tora joined him.
“You’re late, sir,” he said. “I’ve been waiting. Lord Masaie and his son are both at their residence.”
“Yes. The minister told me the son lost his post in the guard. I thought you’d be meeting with Bashan.”
“Saburo went. Their lordships will be in a foul mood.”
“I don’t feel very good about this myself.”
“It’s a terrible thing if he did it. A terrible thing!”
“Yes.”
They were silent for a span, then Akitada sighed. “Well, we might as well go.”
They walked together through the streets. Tora kept one step behind. It was easy to converse this way, but they both remained quiet.
The Minamoto residence was lit up, and the gates stood partly open. They were admitted and followed a servant into a reception room in the main house. Both of them felt tense. Tora paced, while Akitada weighed once again what he must tell Maseie.
They knew Masaie had a bad temper, but neither of them wore a sword. Weapons were frowned upon when making calls on the nobility.
Masaie came quickly, and Akitada was shocked to see the change in him. The big man seemed to have shrunk in the week since he had last seen him. His shoulders slumped, and his face was an unhealthy gray color.
“What is it now?” he demanded in a tone that was at least reminiscent of past belligerence.
“It is still about your daughter’s death,” Akitada said. “It is time you accepted that she was murdered.”
Masaie stared at him, then gestured at Tora. “I won’t speak to you with your servant present.”
Tora opened his mouth to protest, but Akitada said, “Wait for me outside. It’s all right.”
Tora left reluctantly, and they sat down. Masaie ran a hand over his face. “Why do you trouble me again? What is her death to you?” he asked. “Do you think I care about your friend Kosehira? Or about the swine who seduced my child?”
So Maseie had begun to grieve for his daughter after all. Akitada said more gently, “I think you care about her memory.”
Masaie stiffened. “Her memory? Do you know what they called her? They called her the emperor’s woman! As if she’d been some harlot brought in from the streets or the brothels to amuse the Son of Heaven. My daughter! Masako is descended from emperors. Her bloodline is better than that of the Fujiwara hussy who is to become empress. The insult to my house is not to be borne.”
For a moment, he was the old Masaie, Lord of Sagami, undisputed ruler over his lands and his clan.
Akitada sighed. “I came to speak to the father, not to the clan chief. I was told you loved her.”
Masaie turned his head away. “I loved her like my life. No, more than my life.”
“When I was here last, you said she was dead to you already. Perhaps pushing her off a cliff wouldn’t have mattered much to you.”
Masaie looked up. “You think I would do this?”
“No. I thought so once, but I know better now.”
Masaie paled, but he said nothing.
After a moment, Akitada continued, “She was very lonely at court. Nobody liked her, His Majesty least of all.”
Masaie remained silent.
“She tried to obey you. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t find acceptance, but you turned your back on her in her misery. Her whole family turned against her. Is it any wonder she looked to Prince Atsuhira for support?”
Masaie turned a ravaged face to Akitada. “How dare you? I can have my guards cut you down like a dog.”
Ignoring this, Akitada continued, “Your daughter did not jump. Let me tell you what happened the night Masako died. She arrived at the villa in the afternoon of that winter day, expecting to meet the prince and accept his protection.” Masaie made a sudden move, but Akitada raised a hand. “No, let me finish. Your daughter was with child. Atsuhira’s child. He intended to make her his wife, but he was detained that night, though perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered. Someone else followed her up that mountain road, someone who had quarreled bitterly with her earlier that day. I’m not sure if he intended to kill her or the prince, but it doesn’t matter. Her killer was riding a dark horse with a white blaze on its forehead. The caretaker mistook his horse for the prince’s. I don’t know what happened in the villa, but there must have been another quarrel. I found signs of violence, a few blood stains, some long hairs, and a few blue silk threads from the gown she wore. I think the killer struck her with one of the wooden staffs kept in the room. Perhaps he thought he had killed her and panicked. In any case, he carried her to the promontory, where he pushed her over the edge, hoping people would believe she had committed suicide. That is what happened.”
Masaie had listened with his head lowered. He sat very still.
In the silence, the opening of the door sounded like a thunderclap. Both men started.
Masanaga closed the door behind him and walked toward them. His face was flushed, hi eyes bloodshot, and beads of perspiration glistened on his face. He wore his sword, and his right hand gripped it. His eyes fixed on Akitada. In a shaking voice, he said, “It’s a story you’ve made up. Another lie.” His voice broke, then rose. “It’s nothing but lies. I warned you!” The hand on the sword shook convulsively.
Akitada said calmly, “It’s no lie. Yes, you tried to warn me away and then attempted to kill me when I got too close to the truth.”
In the silence, only Masanaga’s heavy breathing could be heard.
Then Masaie staggered to his feet and took a step toward his son. “We’ll speak later. Get out now,” he said, his voice hard and final.
Masanaga hesitated a moment, then turned and left.
Akitada also got up, gritting his teeth. His body still resented sudden moves. He said, “I brought your daughter’s diary so you should read what your ambition caused.” Taking the journal from his sleeve, he extended it to Masaie.
For a moment, he thought the big man would dash it from his fingers, but then Masaie took it with a trembling hand. He opened it, and tears began to well up in his eyes.
“I’ll leave you now, my Lord,” said Akitada.
There was no answer, and he walked out.
He was half afraid that Masanaga would lie in wait for him, but the anteroom was empty, and Tora waited at the outer door.
When they were back on the street, Tora said, “What happened? I saw the son go in and almost followed.”
“Not much. I returned Lady Masako’s journal to her father.”
“Weren’t you supposed to give it to her companion?”
“A grieving father has a greater right.”
“Even if he killed her?”
“He didn’t kill her, Tora. I brought him more terrible news.”
“What? I don’t understand anything. I thought you meant to accuse Lord Mas
aie of murdering his daughter.”
“I did think at one time he was guilty, but there was someone else who had a stronger motive and fit the image of a killer much better.”
Tora kicked at a rock on the street. “I’m a fool. I’ll never learn this business.”
“You’re not a fool.”
They walked in silence, Tora kicking more rocks from time to time. Suddenly he stopped. Akitada turned and saw a curious expression cross his face. “The cook,” Tora said. “She as much as told me.” He hit his forehead with his palm. “She didn’t like him either. She said he was bad.”
Akitada watched him. “Well?”
“The brother?”
Akitada nodded. “Yes. Only three men could have known where she had gone, the prince, her father, and her brother. And whatever his character, the prince isn’t the type to commit such a violent act. We’ll know soon enough. I think Maseie already knew or suspected as much, and this time he will not forgive Masanaga.”
For a moment Tora was silent. Then he said, “The cook did say the boy was always resentful because the father preferred his daughter. But it all feels so unfinished.”
“Sometimes it’s better to stand back and allow events to correct themselves.”
Loose Threads
Saburo met them when they returned. He bowed formally to Akitada and said, “I regret to report, sir, that the man called Bashan did not come to the agreed meeting. I must assume he feared arrest and fled.”
“Thank you, Saburo. It’s as good as a confession. Are you back to stay?”
Saburo contorted his features into a smile. “Yes. And thank you and your lady.”
Akitada liked that he made no apologies and spoke with self-assurance. He returned the smile. “Good. I was wrong to dismiss you without weighing your reasons and shall try to act more fairly in the future.”
Saburo bowed again and headed off to the stable where they could hear hammering. “You aren’t taking his room, I hope?” Akitada asked Tora.
“No, of course not.”
As they watched, Trouble came out of the stable to greet Saburo. Saburo petted the dog and suddenly did a little jump and dance of joy that the dog joined in with a happy yelp.