by I. J. Parker
Genba scowled. “No.”
Tora nodded. Genba was acting like an idiot, but that was his affair, and Tora still had some business of his own.
Outside, the snow still fell, but more thinly and in large wet flakes. Tora looked at them morosely. The wind had died down a little, but it was no night for romantic cuddles in dark alleys. He found his way with some difficulty. The alley was a narrow thoroughfare between the blind walls of buildings. Unidentifiable debris cluttered his path and lay in piles against the walls. The thin cover of snow shed a faint, eerie light reflected by dirty plaster, and he saw a few narrow doorways like black slashes in the gray walls. Up ahead something moved. A darker shape detached itself from one of the black rectangles.
“Hsst! Tora.” Gold huddled against the cold in a thick wrap of some heavy dark material. “I haven’t got much time,” she whispered. “Danjuro’s having a fit. He thinks you’re a constable.”
“I’m not. And why do you let him order you about?” Tora growled, putting protective arms around the shivering girl.
She cuddled against him. “It’s not so easy to find another job. Uemon’s troupe’s got the best reputation.”
Tora managed to insert a groping hand under her wrap and found bare flesh. “Where do you live?” he muttered hoarsely into her ear. “It’s too cold out here.”
“Let go!” She slapped his hand away and straightened her wrap, giving him a stern glance. “That wasn’t very nice,” she scolded. “I’m not a common whore.”
Tora hung his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just... well, you’re really something, and I couldn’t help myself. I keep thinking about your body twisting through the air and bouncing about.” He swallowed and gave her a pleading look. “I meant no disrespect. It’s just... every part of me wants to hold you and touch you and—” He broke off and extended a hand to brush a loose curl from her face. She did not pull away, and he traced the lines of her face gently with his forefinger. “You’re the sweetest girl I ever met.”
She grew still, her eyes luminous in the light of the snow. Her lips quivered a little. “Oh, Tora,” she murmured. Then she flung herself suddenly back into his arms and whispered, “I want you, too.”
After a moment’s passionate embrace, Tora said urgently, “Where can we go?”
She wailed, “I don’t know. I have to go back to our inn with the others, or I’ll be in trouble.”
“What inn?”
“The Golden Phoenix. It’s near Rashomon. But you can’t go there. They keep an eye on us.”
Well, it would have to wait. Tora cursed inwardly and removed his hand from her breast, trying to control his baser urges. “Can you meet me tomorrow?” he asked.
“Maybe. Where?”
“I have a woman friend in the Willow Quarter.” He felt her stiffen in his arms. “It’s not like that,” he said quickly. “I once did a favor for her and she’ll let us use a room in her place. I know you’d rather not go there, but it’s the best I can do at the moment. I’m broke.”
“All right, Tora,” she whispered, burying her face against his neck and kissing it softly.
He groaned and let his hand reach for her naked breast again when there was a loud squeal of rusty hinges. She gasped and tore herself free.
Ahead a dark head poked out from the door of the training school, and a soft voice called, “Gold? Is that you? Danjuro and the others are ready to leave!”
The girl in Tora’s arms cried, “Coming!” then whispered to Tora, “It’s Miss Plumblossom’s maid. I’ve got to go. Tomorrow at this time? Where’s the place?”
Tora shrank behind a pile of lumber, pulling Gold with him and into his arms for another quick passionate embrace. Then he whispered instructions in her ear and let her go.
She disappeared into the building, but the door remained open. Tora waited in the shadow of the woodpile, but nothing happened. He peered cautiously toward the door. Through a crack between the wall and the edge of the door, he could see a bit of blue cotton with white fans on it. Miss Plumblossom’s pretty maid still stood there. Waiting to catch him? Why? Tora had a profound conviction that women liked him and that everything that happened, happened specifically to keep his life interesting. He moved from the shadow on soft feet and rushed the door. Pulling it wide, he seized the girl, and drew her out, placing his hand over her mouth. She struggled wildly in his arms.
“Shhh,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t shout. It’s me. I’m not going to hurt you, my pretty. I just want to talk to you. A lovely thing like you has no need to spy on other girls.” She stopped struggling.
He was about to remove his hand from her mouth when she bit him hard. With a curse he released her. She jumped back inside, but for just a second before she slammed the door he saw her face and recoiled in horror.
* * * *
FOURTEEN
A Taste of Ashes
When Akitada entered his study, the short, rotund figure of his brother-in-law was sitting on a cushion by his desk cheerfully sipping wine. As soon as Toshikage saw Akitada, he arranged his face into suitable gravity.
“Good afternoon, Brother!” he said with a bow. “I hope you don’t mind my waiting in your room. Seimei brought me some warm wine. Please have some. It takes the chill off the weather. You look frozen.”
“Good afternoon, Toshikage.” Akitada touched his face and ears. They were icy. Preoccupied with his family troubles, he had forgotten to turn up his collar against the wind. He untied his hat and went to warm his hands over the glowing brazier, then held them over his ears. The cold had given him a headache. “You are always welcome here, Brother,” he said to Toshikage, who filled a second cup with wine.
Akitada had become fond of his brother-in-law, but his presence here today struck him as ominous, because of Yoshiko’s threat of leaving. Apparently she had been serious. The situation left him utterly helpless. His solemn resolve to take care of his family had already ended in the first failure.
Toshikage extended the wine cup. Akitada attempted a smile and drank. Toshikage was right. The wine, sweet and mellow to the tongue, lit a fire in his belly. He felt marginally better. All day he had been as tightly strung as a bow, afraid that his self-control would shatter. He rubbed his temples, waiting for the headache to recede.
Toshikage, searching Akitada’s face, said, “We both came the moment we received Tamako’s message. What does the superintendent say?”
“Oh! You brought Akiko?” Then the full implications of Toshikage’s words struck Akitada momentarily speechless. Tamako had sent for them! She had taken Yoshiko’s side and sent for Toshikage and Akiko the moment his back had been turned. No doubt the three women were together even now, packing Yoshiko’s clothes and making plans for her life in Toshikage’s household. He felt slightly sick. Between them the women had cast him in the role of the ogre.
Toshikage’s face wrinkled with new concern when he saw Akitada’s expression. “What is it? Bad news? Will she be arrested after all? It is outrageous! We must stop him. I tell you what: I’ll go to Kudara. He’s a major counselor, a member of the Great Council of State. Kudara’s the sort of man who insists on class privilege. He’ll tell this Kobe fellow a few things and we’ll have Yoshiko back home in no time.”
Toshikage’s offer was kind, but Akitada’s way, no matter how mortifying, was preferable. He had no desire to put himself into debt to one of the great men. Such favors came with a price, and the price was too often one’s integrity. He hurriedly reassured Toshikage, “No, no. The case is not as desperate as all that. I have managed to stave off the worst by throwing myself on Kobe’s mercy.” The memory of that difficult step was still painful, and he grimaced. Toshikage raised his brows questioningly, and Akitada confessed, “I doubt he was motivated by mercy. The situation was fairly humiliating.”
Toshikage bristled. “That man gives himself too many airs!”
“We don’t get along too well because he thinks I meddle in his affairs. On thi
s occasion he thought I had finally overstepped the bounds of legality by smuggling messages and instructions to a prisoner about to come to trial. Has Tamako told you Yoshiko’s story?”
Toshikage looked uncomfortable. “Yes, er, that is, I understand that this Kojiro is a former suitor and she went to visit him in prison.”
“Yes. Repeatedly. And it is worse than that, I’m afraid. She appears to be besotted with the man. He is totally unsuitable, but she insists on marrying him as soon as he is cleared of the murder charge. I have forbidden it, of course.”
“Ah, hmm.” Toshikage nodded, avoiding Akitada’s eyes and fidgeting.
Akitada was not encouraged by Toshikage’s manner to hope that he was on his side, but he decided to get it over with. “She has defied me and informed me that she will leave this house. I assume you are here to take her back with you?”
Startled, his brother-in-law looked up. “Heavens, no. I came to offer my support against those high-handed police authorities. I had no idea things were as bad as that. She is leaving? Oh, dear, I have no wish to come between you two.” He paused to digest this new information. “By the Blessed Buddha,” he said, shaking his head, “if it’s not one thing, then it’s another. I’ve only just settled my own problems, when here is this new thing cropping up. But my dear Akitada, you are the head of her family. She must obey you. What do you want me to do? I am completely at your service.”
“Thank you.” Akitada did feel profoundly grateful. It meant a great deal that Toshikage at least recognized his authority and would support him against the women. “I want Yoshiko to stay here,” he said, “but I will not force her beyond reasoning with her. If worse comes to worst, I would be very grateful if you offered her the shelter of your home.”
“But of course. She is Akiko’s sister and I am very fond of her.”
“How is Akiko?”
Toshikage beamed. “Blooming! In view of your trouble, I am almost ashamed to admit that my own home has never been happier. And just think, that little problem of the missing treasures has been straightened out. Stupid of me to trouble you. All the lost items have turned up. It was just a silly mistake. I am so glad that you did not have to become involved.”
So Toshikage’s son had managed to return everything without arousing his father’s suspicion. Akitada feigned ignorance. “Really? Where did you find them?”
“Oh, that careless son of mine forgot that we had sent a large number of things to be cleaned and repacked in new boxes along with other items. Takenori should have checked them off the master list. The fellow who does that sort of thing for us delivered most of the things last month, but he brought these back only yesterday. Everything is there, thank the heavens. Of course, in theory I am responsible for knowing where things are, but Takenori went before the director, threw himself full-length on the floor, and confessed his oversight. The director was very understanding. Silly boy! Of course, he should have been more careful, but I was quite impressed with his behavior. And let’s face it, I have been laying too many of my own duties on his shoulders lately.” Toshikage’s face brightened. “And there is even better news. I have thought of a plan to bring his brother Tadamine home for good. There will be several openings in the Imperial Guard come New Year’s Day. If he wants to play soldier, let him do it here in safety. What do you think of the idea?”
Biting his lip to keep from smiling, Akitada said he thought it the perfect solution. Privately he suspected that young Takenori had considerable hidden talents for a political career. Apparently he had had no trouble convincing Toshikage that the cleaning of the treasures and the reassignment of his brother had been his father’s idea all along.
Toshikage rubbed his hands gleefully. “Yes, isn’t it wonderful? I shall soon have both my boys back with me, and another one on the way.” He positively glowed with happiness.
Suppressing a sigh, Akitada congratulated him on his good fortune and poured more wine to toast the happy news.
Toshikage recalled the reason for his visit. His face fell. “Forgive me, Brother. I should not have forgotten Yoshiko’s problem so quickly. What did Kobe say?”
Akitada grimaced. “He commiserated with me on having a sister who could shame her family to the degree of claiming to be the wife of a peasant jailed for raping and murdering his own sister-in-law.”
Toshikage sucked in his breath. “Surely she did not do that!”
“She did. It was the only way she could gain access to him. They allow wives to bring food to the prisoners.”
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear! How angry you must have been! Did you beat her?”
Akitada was taken aback. The thought of striking his sister, or any woman, had never entered his mind and he felt slightly-sick at the notion. “Of course not,” he said. “Besides, she is a grown woman.”
Toshikage shook his head and waved a monitory finger. “All women are children. And the provocation, my dear Akitada. I admire your restraint. I would have beaten my son if he had embarrassed me half as much.”
“But not a daughter or sister.” Or your wife, Akitada hoped, thinking of the troublesome Akiko.
Toshikage, guessing his thoughts, grinned. “Well, perhaps not quite so hard. Women cannot be held to the same standards as men.” He sighed. “It’s a fine mess. What will you do?”
“Of course Yoshiko will not be permitted any further contact with the prisoner. But Kobe has agreed to let me investigate the case with certain conditions. I am to work under his command.”
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” Toshikage muttered again, shaking his head. “With your rank! How very embarrassing for you.”
Akitada felt himself flush. “I had no choice. Kobe and that man have my sister’s reputation in their hands. One word from either of them, and she is ruined. In fact, unless I can clear Kojiro of the murder charge, she may never be able to hold up her head in polite society again.”
“Amida!” said Toshikage, and fell silent, momentarily bereft of words. They sat and considered the situation. Gossip ran like a firestorm among the “good people,” and a scandal involving his wife’s sister would touch Toshikage’s family also. To Akitada’s surprise, Toshikage was not thinking of himself. “Poor girl!” he muttered. “We must do our best to protect her. What sort of man is this Kojiro? Does he strike you as capable of the crime? Is he likely to use Yoshiko to protect himself?”
“I am positive that he is not capable of either.” Toshikage had put his finger on something which had been troubling Akitada ever since his meeting with the prisoner. “I don’t know why I am so certain. The man puzzles me. He appears surprisingly well educated. Quite gentlemanly, as a matter of fact. And he behaved well about Yoshiko. He tried to cover for her. Of course, Kobe did not believe him. In fact, I was very favorably impressed until he thought I had come to help him because Yoshiko asked me to. At that point, I am afraid, I got very angry at his brazen assumption that I might countenance such a relationship. Since Kobe stood there watching to see how I would take it, I disabused them both quickly of such an idea. Kojiro became quite stiff after that.”
“But you will attempt to clear him?”
Akitada nodded. “He denies having had an affair with his sister-in-law, and I believe him. I also think he is sincere about his feelings for Yoshiko. His brother told me that Kojiro started drinking because of an unhappy love affair. I think the occasion was the rejection of his suit for Yoshiko.”
Toshikage’s eyes grew a little misty. “Heavens! Knowing your honorable mother’s firmness of purpose, that must have been painful in the extreme. A truly romantic tale. Too bad you don’t like the fellow.”
Akitada raised his brows. “My dear Toshikage,” he said brusquely, “it has nothing whatsoever to do with my liking or disliking the man. He is a commoner.”
“Ah. Yes. That is very true. I forgot.”
Akitada gave his brother-in-law an irritated look. “To get back to the murder: Kojiro’s story suggests that he may have been drugged. On my visit to
the temple, I observed that the young monks bring only water to the guests, but Kojiro says he was given tea. Being thirsty, he drank it and immediately fell asleep. When he was woken by the monks, he was in his sister-in-law’s room. To this day he has no idea how he got there. He says his head felt fuzzy and someone had poured a pitcher of wine over him so that everybody assumed he was drunk. He thought so, too, at first, remembering the blackouts he used to suffer when he was still drinking. Wine affects him worse than most men. But he swears he stopped drinking, and I tend to believe him. Anyway, it explains why he confessed to the crime in the beginning but later changed his mind. I think there was something in the tea. The bitter taste would hide whatever sleeping powder someone gave him.”
“Of course! How clever of you to figure that out.” Toshikage paused. “But wasn’t the door locked from the inside?”
“Slamming those doors will make them lock of their own accord. Guests are asked to leave the doors open when they depart, but the monks have a key in case someone forgets.”