The Masuda Affair (A Sugawara Akitada Novel)

by I. J. Parker

She also gave him an appraising look, then placed a cushion for him, knelt, bowed, and apologized for the humble surroundings. Her hands were shaking badly, and as Akitada looked, he saw rips in the sleeves of her embroidered robe. The brilliant blue silk was wet all over and mud stained her skirt. None of this made up for the trouble she had caused.

  ‘Where have you been?’ he demanded, ignoring her courteous welcome.

  She lifted her hands helplessly. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘I was picked up in a closed sedan chair. The bearers took me to a house. There an old woman gave me some wine to drink. The wine made me sleepy, but I was very thirsty and drank a lot of it. When I woke up, I was alone and my hands and feet were tied. After a while I got loose and escaped, but it was dark outside and I ran so hard that I don’t remember the street.’

  Akitada found this hard to believe. The very economical account left out a great deal. What of the elaborate costume and make-up? ‘You went to perform for Lord Sadanori?’ he guessed, gesturing to her costume.

  ‘No,’ she cried and pulled at the gown in disgust. ‘This isn’t mine. I don’t know what happened to my own clothes. I was wearing a plain gown when I left. I thought I was to be a nursemaid.’ She touched the thick white paste on her face. ‘Someone else did all this after I passed out.’

  ‘Really?’

  They stared at each other. The make-up looked as if it had been applied by an expert, but Akitada was no judge of such matters. She was probably very pretty under all that paint. Kobe was right: Tora had good taste in women. Her hair was long and loose, and her small hands graceful. Whatever her age, she was certainly no child and knew all the tricks to attract a man like Tora. And that childlike fragility would appeal to his protectiveness.

  As if she guessed his thoughts, she asked again, ‘Where is Tora, sir?’

  ‘In jail.’

  She jumped a little at that. ‘In jail? Why? Because of me?’

  Akitada nodded. ‘When he couldn’t get any answers about your whereabouts, he attacked a few people in the Willow Quarter.’

  Her eyes filled with tears. He thought, she won’t really cry because it will smudge all that black paint around her eyes. But the tears fell and left black streaks in the white paint.

  Akitada was ashamed. ‘He should be released tomorrow.’

  ‘He didn’t attack Lord Sadanori?’

  This made him wonder if she had been raped after all. ‘No. Should he have?’

  ‘Of course not. They would kill him.’

  He raised his brows at that. ‘Will you tell Tora what really happened?’

  She flushed. ‘I told you the truth. I don’t know what happened after I passed out. Nothing, I think.’

  He nodded. ‘Much the safest way. But he’ll want better answers than you gave me.’

  She looked around helplessly. ‘I cannot stay here,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure where I’ll be.’

  ‘Why can’t you stay?’

  ‘They may come after me when they find me gone.’

  Akitada opened his mouth, but thought better of it. He rose. ‘You’d better come with me,’ he said.

  She shook her head. ‘Oh, no, I couldn’t. What would your lady say?’ She got to her feet and gestured to her costume. ‘I have worked in the Willow Quarter,’ she said, adding defiantly, ‘As a dancer.’

  ‘Tora says you’re his wife.’

  ‘Yes. We wanted to tell you, but—’ She broke off and sighed. ‘Did he tell you we are going to have a child?’

  Akitada eyed her flamboyant costume and slender waist. ‘Yes,’ he said coldly. ‘Under the circumstances, you should not have had dealings of any kind with a man like Sadanori. You must have known of his reputation, even if Tora did not.’

  She started trembling again, but her voice was steady. ‘You’re right, sir. I was a fool and know that now. But I was offered a great deal of money, and we needed it if I was going to give up dancing.’

  He turned away. ‘Get your things and let’s go.’ He went out onto the small porch and waited. When she joined him, she had washed her face and changed into a plain blue hemp gown. A large covered basket hung over her arm, and she clutched Tora’s sword. He gave a grunt and set off.

  The truth was, he would rather not insult Tamako by introducing a dancer from the amusement quarter into their house, but neither did he want Hanae to disappear again. She had caused him enough trouble when he needed to concentrate on rescuing the child. He thought about the situation in Otsu and became distracted by its difficulties.

  When he reached his home, he remembered her and turned. ‘We are here.’ She was behind him, her face perfectly white and her breathing labored. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked. ‘Are you sick?’

  ‘Your legs are longer than mine.’ She gasped and dropped her basket. The white cat emerged from it, mewing her protest. Her mistress pressed a hand to her belly and tottered to the wall, leaning against it, her eyes closed.

  Akitada pounded on the gate and shouted, ‘Genba! Genba!’ A dog started barking. He turned back to Hanae. ‘I’m sorry. My mind was on other things. It was very thoughtless of me. You should have told me to slow down.’

  She gave him an exasperated look, then bent for the cat.

  ‘Let me.’ He snatched up the basket and put the cat back in it, then pounded on the gate again. The dog went into a frenzy of snarling. ‘What is a dog doing here?’ Akitada muttered.

  ‘It’s Trouble,’ she said in a tired voice.

  ‘Trouble?’ he asked, confused.

  She chuckled weakly. ‘That’s what Tora calls him.’

  The dog’s growls turned to excited snuffling and whining. When the gate finally opened, he shot out, a large, shaggy gray ball of energy. He jumped up on Akitada first, leaving muddy stains on his robe, then abandoned him to greet Hanae. He licked her face and then bounced around her, yipping with joy. The cat hissed from its basket.

  Genba appeared and took the basket from Akitada, then caught the dog by the remnant of rope around his neck.

  Akitada looked at the three unexpected additions to his household. Then he looked down at his wet, and now muddy, robe and said bitterly, ‘I take it Trouble has come to stay.’

  No one corrected him. They walked into the courtyard before Akitada remembered introductions. ‘Hanae,’ he said, ‘this is Genba. Genba, Hanae is Tora’s … wife. She’ll stay here until he gets out of jail tomorrow.’

  Genba’s face broke into a broad smile. ‘Hanae! Tora’s been beside himself. He’ll be so happy you’re safe.’ He turned to Akitada. ‘Did you say “jail”, sir? Is he all right? Nothing serious, I hope.’

  ‘Not now,’ Akitada said sourly. ‘Let’s not discuss this now. It’s been a long, miserable day.’

  He took Hanae to Tamako, a meeting which proved once again that he knew nothing about women. He hoped to leave matters to his wife and escape to get out of his wet clothes. ‘This is Hanae,’ he said.

  Hanae waited, and when he said nothing else, she explained, ‘I’m Tora’s wife.’

  ‘Tora’s wife?’ Tamako looked startled. ‘Oh, dear. I’m afraid he did not tell us about you.’

  Hanae shuffled her feet. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have come. Please forgive the intrusion.’

  Tamako said quickly, ‘Of course you didn’t intrude. Sit down, Hanae. You look exhausted.

  Hanae blushed. ‘I’m quite well, but it’s been an exciting day and I’m a little tired.’ She paused, glanced at Akitada, and murmured, ‘And I’m expecting a child.’

  Tamako went to put her arms around her. ‘Men,’ she muttered, with an accusing look at Akitada. ‘Such nonsense, to hide you away like this. I have wished all along that Tora and Genba would bring home wives and raise their families here. You are most welcome in this house, my dear Hanae. I want to hear all about your marriage.’ The two women clung to each other, and Akitada turned coward and slipped out of the room.

  Seimei was
waiting for him, his face all smiles. ‘You found both of them, sir. Wonderful! Such a relief, even if Tora is in jail again. How did that happen?’

  Akitada gave him a sketchy account while he shed his wet and dirty clothes. Seimei helped him into his house robe and poured hot tea. ‘You must be very proud,’ he said, ‘to have solved the matter so quickly and easily.’

  Exhaustion finally caught up with Akitada, who had not slept much the previous night in Warden Takechi’s cell in Otsu and had walked too many miles today. He looked at Seimei blearily. ‘Not at all easily, old friend. I think I shall sleep for days.’

  Seimei immediately busied himself spreading his master’s bedding and left.

  Akitada was too tired for a bath. But he had barely extinguished his candle and placed his head on his pillow when his door opened. Tamako came in, already dressed for bed in a thin white underrobe with a pale rose-colored gown thrown over it. In the light of her candle, she looked like some delectable celestial being. The pink gown reminded Akitada of Little Wave and of making love to the sound of the river. Tamako floated nearer on bare feet, her body faintly visible under the thin silk where the light fell on it. He felt a jolt of desire for his wife and flung aside his covers to invite her into his bed.

  But Tamako’s eyes flashed for reasons other than love. She was very angry. ‘How could you?’ she demanded, stopping before him.

  ‘How could I what?’ he asked, blinking against the light.

  ‘That poor young woman! She’s been through a hellish time, and escaped with incredible courage. You must have seen her bloody wrists and ankles. She tore the skin off when she fought against her bonds until she broke them. She finally used her teeth. And you made her, frail as a child and pregnant, walk all the way here. Why didn’t you get a sedan chair for her?’

  ‘A sedan chair?’ Akitada wanted to point out that he was no Sadanori and doubted that she would have felt comfortable taking another chair if she had indeed been abducted, but he did not get the chance. Tamako was not done with him.

  ‘Yes, a sedan chair. And then, instead of making her welcome here, you told her she could only stay the night. And she the wife of a Sugawara retainer! Tora’s wife! The mother of his unborn child! What were you thinking of?’

  Akitada looked at his wife in dazed wonder. She was extremely attractive in her anger. There was a rosy color in her face, and her breasts strained against the thin silk with every angry breath. He sat up. She had been his companion for the past six years, a woman who should be as familiar to him as the old robe he was wearing, though not perhaps as comfortable. Certainly not in her present mood. But she was very desirable indeed. He smiled at her and let his eyes explore the half-obscured secrets of her body underneath the silk. ‘The devil with Hanae. Come here.’

  ‘Oh!’ she cried, pulling the pink robe around her and flushing even more rosily before running from the room.

  Wishing Hanae to the devil again, Akitada lay back and tried to subdue his mutinous body. Whatever Tamako’s outrage, the dancer was safe, and tomorrow Tora would be back.

  He smiled. Suddenly, he felt more optimistic about bringing home the boy he had grown fond of. He wondered what he would call him and fell asleep considering the possibilities.

  He woke at dawn to the barking of Tora’s dog. As soon as he had identified the unaccustomed sound, he put aside his irritation and stretched. The barking stopped. Perhaps, he thought, a guard dog would not be a bad idea. If Tora looked after the beast, it might be possible to become used to him. As for the cat, there were enough mice scurrying about in the walls and nesting in the thatch of the roof to keep the animal occupied for years.

  But there was still Hanae. And, in time, Hanae’s child. Akitada frowned. No, it would be much better if they all moved back to their own house and left him to his quiet life. On this thought, he closed his eyes and dozed off again.

  The next disturbance was the sound of hammering and sawing. It was quite close to Akitada’s room, and more sleep was out of the question. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Sunlight filtered through the shutters and made striped patterns on the wooden floor.

  Seimei scratched softly at the door before coming in with Akitada’s tea.

  ‘What is this infernal racket?’ his master demanded.

  ‘Sorry, sir. It’s the new carpenter.’

  Akitada brightened. ‘Really?’ He got up and accepted a cup of steaming tea. ‘That was very efficient of you. I’m glad the repairs have begun.’ He drank his tea.

  ‘It’s not my doing, sir. Tora sent the man yesterday.’ Seimei pursed his lips. ‘He’s quite old, I’m afraid.’

  Akitada eyed Seimei, who was well into his seventies and had become frail. If Seimei called the carpenter old, he must be truly ancient and well beyond being useful. Putting his cup down, Akitada raised the shutter and walked outside. He followed the carpentry sounds to his wife’s pavilion. There he found a small wreck of a man with hair that was an astonishing color, somewhere between black and orange. The odd character was ponderously measuring a board, while the shaggy dog watched. The man’s skin was as deeply wrinkled and brown as a walnut shell, and every bone and tendon in his thin arms and legs was visible. He straightened up with a groan and limped to the broken veranda step to fit the board in place. The dog followed and sat, head cocked attentively to observe the operation.

  ‘Good morning,’ said Akitada.

  The carpenter did not hear him, but the dog spun around and charged, barking loudly. Akitada stepped back, but the animal paused only long enough to recognize a recent acquaintance and then jumped. Off balance already, Akitada sat down hard. The dog pushed him down and proceeded to wash his face with an enormous wet tongue.

  Akitada shouted at the animal and flung him off. Getting to his feet was another matter. The dog circled with happy barks, ready to pounce again. The carpenter finally noticed. He approached and bowed deeply. The man must be given credit for recognizing authority even under humiliating circumstances, but he was not much help at the moment.

  The door of the pavilion opened. ‘Trouble!’ Tamako looked down at the scene. The dog abandoned Akitada and raced to her.

  Remembering his wife’s anger the night before, Akitada got up nervously, but she smiled, wished him a good morning, and invited him in.

  She still looked delicious, standing there in a pretty gown with that welcoming smile on her face, and he accepted eagerly. Bounding over the broken step and leaping across the hole in the veranda floor, he fetched up practically nose-to-nose with his wife. He caught the scent of orange blossoms, and took her in his arms. If the old carpenter was shocked at such behavior, Akitada did not care. Tamako had forgiven him, and he planned to take his time making love to her.

  ‘Akitada.’ Tamako’s tone was firm.

  ‘Yes, my dear?’ He swept her inside the room, dropping the shutter with his free hand behind them. The room was dim, but Akitada saw that his wife’s bedding had not been rolled up yet. Someone moved in the shadows.

  ‘You can let me go now,’ said Tamako. ‘Really, the veranda was quite safe.’ Akitada released his wife. Tamako went on brightly, ‘Hanae and I had hoped to have a word with you before you left for work. It’s good of you to come so early.’

  Hanae again! Akitada felt a surge of resentment against that young woman. His eyes adjusted, and he saw her hovering near the door, looking embarrassed, though why a woman from the quarter should be embarrassed at what passed between men and women was beyond him.

  Before he could sort out the situation, Tamako suggested, ‘Let’s sit down and discuss what is to be done about Lord Sadanori.’

  Akitada sat down obediently. ‘Done? Nothing can be done.’

  Tamako bristled. ‘Nothing? After what he did to Hanae?’

  ‘Unless I missed something, nothing happened to her.’

  ‘How can you call the abduction of a respectable young woman from her home for the pleasure of a depraved nobleman nothing?’

  Respectable?
Tamako had not led so sheltered a life that she did not know what passed in the amusement quarter. Hanae made a small noise of protest, and Akitada said peaceably, ‘I’m sure it must have been very unpleasant, but we don’t have any proof that Sadanori was involved – even if it were wise to charge a man of his stature.’

  ‘Wise?’ Tamako cried. ‘What has wisdom got to do with it? Shall he continue to prey on defenseless women because everyone is too afraid to oppose him? Will you risk Tora’s ruin by leaving this to him?’

  Akitada opened his mouth and closed it again. He wanted to tell his wife that you don’t pull the tiger’s tail, but then he had never been very wise in such situations in the past. He tried reason. ‘Hanae has assured me that she never saw Sadanori. She says she was unconscious.’ A thought struck him, and he looked at Hanae. ‘You’re quite sure that – er – nothing happened to you?’

  Hanae blushed. ‘I wasn’t raped,’ she said. ‘Oh, please, you must make Tora believe that nothing happened. I just want to forget the whole business.’

  Tamako said, ‘Don’t be so timid, Hanae. My husband can put a stop to that monster. If he didn’t rape you, he probably had just not got around to it yet.’

  Akitada considered. Perhaps Hanae would know if she had been raped while she was unconscious. Coroners could usually determine recent intercourse in a dead woman. But Hanae might well cover up certain details because of Tora. He said firmly, ‘There’s no evidence against anyone, let alone Lord Sadanori. The sedan chair could have been sent by another admirer.’

  Hanae said stubbornly, ‘It was he who asked me to be a nursemaid. And he sent a woman to arrange for my visit to his wife. That’s the only reason I went with them.’

  ‘But you have no proof that it was not some other man who wanted your company. The woman could have lied.’ Akitada was more and more convinced that Hanae herself was lying. ‘I was told Lord Sadanori expected you to perform at a party that day. Kohata was asked to fill in for you when you didn’t show up.’

  Hanae clenched her small fists. ‘I turned down the job. He knew I wouldn’t perform because my husband objected. He was angry with me. They say he has some strange fancies. Only, I didn’t think he felt that way about me.’ She sighed. ‘Can’t we forget about it? I was very foolish.’