by I. J. Parker
‘No misunderstanding.’ Akitada turned and looked at them bleakly. ‘Tora, your report has come to nothing. Kobe says the boys were not involved in the fire.’
‘What about the one that stole my gold?’ Tora clenched his fists. ‘Did he think I lied?’
‘Forget it, Tora. Take the horse and ride to the farm to get Genba and the dog. I’ll give you money for old Matsue so he can pay the workers and buy more seed rice.’
Tora and Seimei looked at each other, then Tora left while Seimei remained to help count out coins and enter the new expenses in the account book. Neither Akitada nor Seimei referred to the quarrel again, but Akitada’s hands shook as he handled the silver and gold.
When he was alone again, Akitada took out his flute and returned to the garden. The sun was already high, and the leaves of trees and shrubs drooped in the heat. Even a bird flying from branch to branch seemed listless. The hot wind hissed in the miscanthus and moved a tendril of the wisteria vine across an open shutter with a dry, scraping sound. Akitada tried a complex melody to distract his mind, but the music jarred, splintered, and broke into dissonance. Silence fell. The city beyond the trees seemed to be waiting fearfully, and Akitada searched his heart.
What had he done that his old friend should reject him so harshly? Surely Kobe could not believe that he would protect either Lady Kiyowara or her son if either should prove guilty. Perhaps Lady Kiyowara had believed it, but that did not make it true. And Abbot Shokan – had he also called on him because he thought the payment of gold bars would keep his protégé from being arrested? Did they all see him as a corrupt or corruptible official?
He knew he was innocent, but he had taken their gold. They would consider that a tacit acceptance of a bribe. He laughed bitterly. Maybe he should have asked for more since he was selling his honor.
It did not matter. They needed the money. He would earn his pay quickly and honestly and prove them all wrong.
But that was easier thought than done. He had no idea where to start on either case.
In his misery, he sought out Tamako to share his troubles.
‘How odd,’ she said when he had explained. ‘I wonder what happened.’
‘Happened? Nothing happened, except that Tora mentioned the Kiyowara son, and Kobe became suspicious.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so. I expect he knew already. Your visit there would not be a secret when the police were in and out of the house.’
Akitada considered that. ‘But then I don’t understand why Kobe was so very furious all of a sudden.’
‘Yes, it’s very strange. Perhaps you had better wait a while before judging your friend.’
Akitada made a face. ‘Much too late for that. He said some things… and I’m afraid I said some things… Well, I was naturally very angry.’
‘Naturally.’ She hesitated, then laid her hand on his. ‘I’m sorry. You have much to plague you just now.’
He felt a little better for having talked with Tamako and returned to his study. It was time to see Tora off on his trip. He had missed Genba – and Trouble. The dog was something of a clown who performed foolish tricks and made them all laugh. And Genba would bring his horse so he could ride into the countryside again. He had almost forgotten how beautiful the mountains were until his visit to Abbot Shokan. He would manage quite well without Kobe.
At this point, the witch walked into his study.
Customarily, women did not pay visits to strange men unless they were nuns or courtesans and entertainers belonging to the outcast class. The only other exceptions were miko, who were nominally shrine maidens, but more usually promiscuous females versed in exorcisms and fortune-telling. He assumed his visitor belonged to this group. Tora, who had let her in, gaped at her with an awed expression.
Akitada had last seen her at Lady Kiyowara’s, and then she had been sitting in a dim corner. Standing, she was astonishingly tall for a woman. The chains of beads and shells around her neck clicked softly as she lowered the red shawl from her head and draped it around her shoulders. Her hair was as wild and tangled as before, and the large brooding eyes in her handsome face fixed him as boldly. She neither knelt nor bowed, but stood before him as if she expected him to bow to her.
‘Umm,’ said Tora a little shakily. ‘This is the Lady Aoi, sir. She has something to ask you.’
‘Thank you, Tora. You may leave.’
The strange female looked after Tora with a slight frown and shook her head.
Lady Aoi? It was probably a professional name. Many courtesans chose fanciful names for themselves, and Lady Aoi was a famous character in Lady Murasaki’s novel Genji.
As the door closed behind Tora, she turned her eyes back to him and measured him coolly. Akitada said, ‘Please be seated – er, Lady Aoi. Did Lady Kiyowara send you?’
She knelt gracefully, then sat back on her heels. With a nod towards the door, she said in a rather deep but pleasant voice, ‘Your servant is as ignorant as you are.’
While he would admit to his own ignorance in the Kiyowara case, the criticism of Tora irritated Akitada. He said curtly, ‘I’m very busy. Could you get to the point?’
She eyed him for a moment. ‘Have you made arrangements for a miko?’
Somehow she must have discovered that Tamako was about to give birth. His irritation grew. ‘I don’t believe in fortune-tellers.’
She responded with a mocking smile. ‘You see? That is why I am here. You don’t believe in anything. How can you find the truth when you don’t believe?’
Akitada snapped, ‘Do you have a message for me or not? Is this visit in any way related to Lord Kiyowara’s murder?’
The mocking smile was back. ‘Of course. You know nothing, and you suspect the innocent. I told Hiroko as much, but she is another unbeliever.’
The familiar use of Lady Kiyowara’s personal name made Akitada cautious. ‘Perhaps you should explain your relationship first. Who are you?’
‘Oh, I am a cousin. She has many. I help her look into the future.’ She fixed him with those extraordinary eyes and said with great seriousness, ‘There is only the future, and it is already ordained.’
‘If that were true, it would be pointless to try to change it. Why are you here?’
She frowned, then returned to the former subject. ‘Your wife suffers from a fever. Most likely she is possessed and will need an exorcism.’
Akitada compressed his lips. The fact that she also knew about Tamako’s fever did not surprise him. It was easy enough to get gossip from neighbors. ‘Thank you. No exorcism is required. She is quite well again,’ he said flatly. ‘Why do you say I suspect the innocent? Do you know who killed Kiyowara?’
She shook her head impatiently. The beads around her neck clinked softly. ‘Your house is filled with angry ghosts. They intend harm to mother and child.’ She paused to listen and shuddered. ‘The atmosphere here is almost more violent than at my cousin’s.’
Akitada suppressed his rage. If she was indeed Lady Kiyowara’s cousin, he could hardly throw her out. There had been some disturbing tales of high-born ladies who had gone mad and imagined they were shape-shifting foxes or hungry ghosts. Such sick fancies were part and parcel of the worst superstitions, and females were prone to them. One could understand the common people believing in such things, but he was not about to encourage them. If she was indeed mad, he must meet her crazed comments with calm.
‘My wife is a sensible woman,’ he explained, speaking slowly, as if to a child. ‘She has never offended anyone. She will be quite safe from ghosts.’
Lady Aoi nodded. ‘That may be so, but the same is not true of you, I think. You have offended many. There is a female spirit in this house who hates you with special venom. Hers is the most powerful presence here, but there are also many others, both male and female, whom you have harmed.’
He was taken aback. His stepmother had hated him. She had died in this very house, cursing him. It was also true that he had caused many evil men and women to be judg
ed and condemned. But Lady Aoi’s words were vague enough to fit anyone’s situation. For that matter, the difficulties he had had with his stepmother might be known to her. He said firmly, ‘Unless you have information about the Kiyowara murder, I regret that we have nothing to discuss.’
Lady Aoi looked at Akitada with her large, glittering eyes. Then she pulled her shawl back over her hair and got to her feet. Akitada noticed that she had come barefoot, and that ropes of beads also decorated her ankles.
‘Foolish man,’ she murmured.
Akitada clapped his hands. Tora appeared so quickly that he had probably been listening at the door. ‘Sir?’
‘Lady Aoi is ready to leave. Please see her to the gate.’
Lady Aoi walked out, beads clicking and robes rustling, without a bow.
Tora gave Akitada a look and shuddered, then followed her, leaving his master to wonder when Tora would finally lose his fear of magic.
When Tora returned, he looked pale. ‘Sir, she speaks to the gods and knows what will happen. She told me to be prepared, that there is very great danger. And then she said it was probably too late already. Let’s call her back and ask her to perform a service.’
Akitada was irritated. ‘Nonsense, people cannot see the future. She is either mad or hopes to fool us into paying her in golden coin for her tricks of the trade. More likely she’s merely mad. I’m sorry she frightened you.’
Tora looked stubborn. ‘I just thought… if she’s a proper miko, she could do an exorcism for when your lady gives birth.’
‘Did you tell her that my wife is about to give birth?’
‘She asked.’
‘If she can see the future, she should have known,’ Akitada pointed out.
Tora held his ground. ‘It’s hard to know everything. I know nothing. You know a lot more. Isn’t it possible that some people know things you and I don’t?’
‘Certainly. In her case, I was hoping that she could tell me about the Kiyowara murder. She’s the wife’s cousin. But she had absolutely no idea.’ He saw that Tora wanted to argue the point and said, ‘Never mind. I’ve decided to postpone your trip into the country. I have a job for you.’
‘A job? What about getting Genba and Trouble?’
‘That can wait. I want you to find a young monk who’s gone missing. His name is Kansei. The abbot says he was seen with some hoodlums in the western quarter. Frankly, it seems farfetched for an acolyte. I would have thought he’d spend his time in the brothel quarter.’ He mentioned Abbot Shokan’s worries that his protégé was getting in trouble with the law.
Tora smirked. ‘Lost his pretty boy, has he?’
‘Perhaps, and perhaps not. The abbot is an imperial prince. He may simply have taken a fatherly interest.’
Tora guffawed.
‘Look, it won’t be helpful if you approach this task with preconceived ideas. Boys get into trouble all the time. Whatever the situation, we need to find him.’
‘It won’t be easy. Those hooligans are everywhere. No more begging or sweeping the street for a bite of food. As for mischief, we know some of them are setting fires, even if the police don’t believe it.’ He thought a moment. ‘I wish I’d known sooner. That fellow Tojiro might know him.’
‘Perhaps, but even if you find him, what makes you think he’ll talk to you after you tried to have him arrested?’
Tora grinned. ‘I know where his girlfriend works.’
Akitada decided to leave matters to him. ‘Very well, but no violence and be careful. If you’re right about the fires, you could find yourself in some real trouble.’
Tora thought of the knife attack in the dark alley. ‘I’ll watch myself.’
RAT TRAP
His heart beating madly, Jirokichi practically vaulted over the outside wall of the merchant’s property and came down on the other side so carelessly that he twisted his ankle on the uneven ground. Muttering a curse, he hobbled away, down the alley between property walls and out into the side street. His mind on his painful leg and on getting as far away from the house as he could, he did not notice his danger until it was too late.
No more than fifty feet away from the mouth of the alley stood the two louts, engaged in an altercation. They saw Jirokichi the moment he saw them.
‘Hey! What’s he been doing back there?’
Jirokichi gasped, turned, and started running.
Almost immediately a sharp pain shot up his leg and he stumbled. He heard their steps behind him. One of them shouted, ‘Grab him!’
They dragged him up by the collar and saw who he was.
‘It’s the Rat,’ cried the leader, astonished and pleased. ‘This time, shitface,’ he told Jirokichi, shaking him like rag, ‘you’re not getting away.’
Jirokichi believed him.
‘Been spying on us?’
Jirokichi shook his head.
‘Let me search him,’ said the other lout. ‘I bet he’s just robbed some rich bastard.’ He started feeling Jirokichi’s body.
‘Wait. Not here,’ said the tall one. ‘Someone may come. We can have some fun with him at our place.’
Jirokichi risked a loud yell for help. He got a fist in his mouth and nose and spit out a tooth in a gush of blood. The pain and the blood shut him up, but his tormentors were not satisfied. While the big lout held the limp Jirokichi, his companion tore strips off Jirokichi’s shirt and gagged him. Then they set off, dragging him between them like a bag of garbage.
They went quite a long way. Jirokichi choked on blood and convulsed a couple of times, but was shaken into proper compliance. It was late, and they kept to side streets until they reached the poorer part of the city and entered an abandoned warehouse. There they dropped Jirokichi while one of them struck a flint and lit an oil lantern. Jirokichi was again choking badly. The blood had closed his nose and the gag allowed very little air into his lungs. He twisted his head, trying to loosen the gag a little. They kicked him, then dragged him upright and ripped off the gag.
‘Go ahead and cry your head off, turd,’ said the leader, grinning. ‘Nobody’11 hear you.’
They searched him more carefully, but found no gold on him. Disappointed, they took turns pummeling him and laughing. Jirokichi accepted that he was about to die and passed out.
He woke to even greater misery, thereby proving that life was worthless, as the monks had taught him in his youth.
He was hanging from his arms. His feet barely touched the ground, and the pain in his arms and shoulders was so agonizing that he did not feel his other wounds. He had no idea how long he had been hanging like this, but his nose and mouth had bled freely down the front of his torn shirt and made a puddle on the floor that had mixed with piss when he had lost control of his bladder.
In a corner nearby, his two tormentors sat together with some other louts. They perched on sake barrels, discussing the events of the night.
‘So,’ the leader’s skinny companion was asking, ‘do we kill the Rat and tell the fat slug that he’s been spying on him? Or will the slug get mad that we touched the saintly little bastard?’
‘Kill him,’ cried two of the newcomers. The third turned to look where Jirokichi was swaying in the semi-darkness.
‘Hey,’ he said, ‘His eyes are open. He’s been listening.’
Instantly, they were on their feet and around him. Jirokichi cursed himself. He closed his eyes and pretended to be unconscious, but they weren’t fooled. A hard slap across the face made Jirokichi’s eyes pop open again. Their eyes gleamed with anticipation.
One of them gave Jirokichi a push in the chest that sent him swinging and twisting like a pendulum. They laughed and spent some time pushing him back and forth on his rope, harder and harder. Jirokichi shrieked when his shoulder separated.
‘Stop that noise,’ snapped the leader, halting the human pendulum, ‘or I’ll do it again. Now talk. You were coming from that alley. What were you doing back there?’
Jirokichi blubbered, ‘N-nothing.’
&n
bsp; Instantly, he got another push and shrieked again. This amused the others, who hopped around, laughing.
Their leader steadied Jirokichi’s body and brought his face closer. He was not laughing. ‘You were down that alley spying on us, right? I want to know what you saw and heard.’
But Jirokichi knew that the truth would mean certain death. A lie had to be good, and even then they would probably kill him eventually – after lots of torment. He pretended to faint again.
Immediately, blows rained down on him, into his belly, face, groin, and back. He shrieked again and again. Hot pain exploded everywhere in his body, and he passed out for good.
THE BLIND BEGGAR
Before Tora left on his new assignment, he lectured Hanae about watching the baby and not wandering about town alone. He was so firm about this that Hanae got frightened.
‘What have you done now?’ she demanded, her eyes flashing. ‘You and your master are getting to be more and more alike. You care for nothing but your work. I cannot imagine what makes foolish women agree to marry men like you.’
This caused a delay, as Tora had to reassure his wife he had done nothing and that she and Yuki were the treasures of his life. He was afraid to tell her what Lady Aoi had said. Hanae forgave him eventually, sealing his pardon with a kiss that he took such pleasure in returning that one thing led to another.
When Tora finally set out, it was nearly the hour of the midday rice. He walked quickly to the Western Market. He meant to visit the Fragrant Peach again. With luck, he would find Tojiro with his girlfriend; if not, the young waitress could be made to talk.
He skirted Hoshina’s place at the market corner and was about to pass through the market gate into Nishi-Horikawa Avenue when he heard a female voice shouting his name. He turned his head, and there was Hoshina herself, galloping after him. She cried, ‘Wait, Tora. Please!’
Please? Her eagerness astonished him. He waited. She came to a halt before him and caught her breath.
‘It’s Jirokichi,’ she gasped. ‘He didn’t come home last night.’