The Masuda Affair (A Sugawara Akitada Novel)

by I. J. Parker

‘Nori?’ Akitada asked, astonished. And then: ‘Can he hear you?’

  ‘Of course he can hear.’

  It was good news. ‘How do you know his name? Has he found his voice?’

  ‘No, not that. Manjiro and I kept calling out names and that one made him look up. So that’s what we call him. He answers to it.’

  How simple it had been for this woman and her son to name the child, while he had cast about in vain and called him ‘boy’ or ‘child’. Nori? He recalled how he had stopped in the dark woods and thought the small pale figure was the ghost of his dead son. He had called, ‘Yori,’ and the boy had come to him.

  Mrs Yozaemon raised her voice again. ‘Nori? Come here. You have visitors.’

  And there he was. Or rather, there was his head, peering around the corner of the house. A moment later he came towards them, slowly and with a solemn face. Akitada was disappointed. He had imagined a gleeful dash into his arms. There was not even a smile. Was he afraid? No, not that. But he was distant, reserved, if a child that age could be reserved.

  They had trimmed his hair and tied it above each ear. Just so had Yori worn his hair, and this boy, though he was probably a little older, was small for his age and looked a little like Yori. The sharp pain of Akitada’s loss was back, made sharper by this child’s new coolness towards him.

  Nori stopped beside Mrs Yozaemon. He remembered them, Akitada was certain of it, but apparently he no longer considered them friends. Heartsick, Akitada crouched and opened his arms, but the boy shook his head, his eyes distrustful.

  Forcing a smile, Akitada said, ‘I see you blame me for leaving you. I could not help it, but I didn’t forget you. Not for a moment.’

  The boy said nothing. He seemed to wait patiently for his dismissal.

  Akitada produced the top and held it out. The child promptly put his hands behind his back and glanced away.

  Mrs Yozaemon cried, Oh, go on, Nori, take it! The gentleman brought you the pretty toy. And he’s come a long way to visit you.’

  There was no reaction, and Akitada stood up, helpless in the face of such rejection.

  Tora scooped up the child and said, ‘Hey, Nori, what’s the matter? Let’s have a smile. Look, the sun’s shining and there’s a nice wind. Suppose we go buy a kite and fly it this afternoon?’

  But Nori struggled, and Tora put him down with a sigh. Akitada said, ‘Never mind. He’s not used to kindness, poor little fellow.’ He hid his disappointment, reminding himself that he had come to make sure the child was well taken care of and he had now done so. Nori was clean and looked much healthier. He stood clutching Mrs Yozaemon’s skirt, waiting for them to leave. Akitada thanked his caretaker and gave her the red top. Still smarting from the rejection, he said, ‘We’ll try to find his family so he won’t have to return to the Mimuras. If that fails, I’ll pay them to let me raise him.’

  She clapped her hands. ‘What a lucky boy! You’ll like living in the capital, Nori, won’t you?’

  The boy looked at her, but gave no sign that he had understood.

  Akitada left, feeling lonelier than before. To shake off this mood, he tried to think about the warden’s murder case as they walked back to the lake, but his disappointment about the child was stronger than his sense of justice. It seemed a betrayal of the dead man, and he brooded on this.

  Tora glanced at him from time to time, but did not speak. At the dead courtesan’s villa, Akitada sent Tora to talk to the neighbors while he pushed through the wilderness to the dilapidated house. The scene was even more depressing by daylight. He looked around for the cat, but did not see it.

  Down by the water, he disturbed a pair of ducks in the reeds near a broken boat dock and watched them paddle away, the male protectively herding the female. Ducks were faithful to their mate, a pair for life and a symbol of harmony between a man and woman. Such harmony had not been possible for him and Tamako, and apparently not for Peony and her lover either. The night watchman had claimed that the man had deserted her.

  Akitada looked across the sparkling water. Boats of all sizes bobbed and moved across it – carrying other lives and, no doubt, happier ones. Suddenly, in broad daylight and sunny weather, Akitada felt again that cold shiver, that sense of lurking death.

  He turned away abruptly, irritated by his morbid fancies.

  They walked up and down the street, knocking on gates and talking to servants, but the results were disappointing. It became clear that Peony, or her protector, had taken measures to keep the curious away. She had rarely appeared in public, and then only deeply veiled. Her servants, a maid and a porter, had been from the capital and had rarely spoken to other servants. Her death had surprised them because they had believed the house empty at the time.

  Tora pounced on certain rumors that started after Peony’s death. She had been heard weeping because her child had died, her lover had left her, her lover had died, she had contracted smallpox and lost her beauty – all these, separately or in combination, were in people’s minds reasons for her suicide, and so her vengeful ghost was born. Tora, of course, rejected the suicide theory. He was still convinced that Sadanori had murdered Peony, and he proposed they return to the capital and confront her killer.

  Akitada grumbled, ‘Nothing but rumors. We’re a long way from being done here. We still have no proof that the boy was hers or that she was murdered. And we still do not know that she is the woman from the capital.’

  Tora protested, ‘It’s the same name. And the time fits. The neighbors called her a courtesan, and they mentioned a child.’

  ‘A child that died. I wonder what happened to her servants.’

  ‘They left before she died. The neighbors thought the house was empty. Why did they leave? And who reported her death?’

  Akitada stopped. ‘Yes. Someone had to find her in the water and get the warden. A neighbor? If we assume that Peony was kept by the Masuda heir, the family’s role in all of this is, to say the least, suspicious.’ He glanced up at the green hillside above the town where the many curved roofs of the Masuda mansion glistened in the sun. ‘We’d better ask Warden Takechi.’

  But when they reached the warden’s office, Akitada had second thoughts about Tora’s presence. ‘Let me do the talking,’ he said. ‘We can’t afford to have you locked up.’

  The warden was looking glum, but he brightened when he saw them. ‘Thank heaven you’re back, sir. This is a very difficult case. Would you believe it, nobody has seen anything.’

  Akitada sat down, and Tora squatted near the door.

  ‘It’s still early,’ Akitada said consolingly and wondered how to divert the man’s attention to their own problems. ‘Er, if you have the time, I would like to discuss Tora’s case.’

  Warden Takechi glanced across at Tora. ‘If you’re wondering about the charges against your servant, I sent a message to the judge while you were visiting the child.’ He rummaged among the papers on his desk. ‘Here’s his answer.’ He passed across a note.

  Akitada scanned it. The judge mentioned the rank of Secretary Sugawara and the fact that His Lordship had posted a considerable sum of gold as security. He concluded that, as His Lordship had now brought the young man in himself, there was no longer any reason to arrest anyone. In the unlikely event of a trial, the judge trusted that Secretary Sugawara would produce Tora.

  Akitada returned the letter with mixed feelings. The judge had checked up on him and his noble birth, and rank had paid off. He said, ‘Thank you. I’d planned to go back today, but now Tora can take care of business and I’ll stay on until tomorrow.’

  The warden smiled. ‘I’m deeply grateful for your generous assistance, sir.’

  Akitada did not correct him. He asked, ‘Perhaps you can tell me who reported the death of the courtesan Peony?’

  ‘Peony?’ Takechi blinked. ‘Oh, that one.’ He got up and searched among the ledgers. Selecting one, he ran his finger down the entries. ‘Her maid. I have a vague memory that she’d come from the capital for a visit
and found her drowned in the lake.’ He closed the ledger.

  Akitada was startled. The maid had come from the capital? How long had the body been in the water? He asked, ‘You spoke to the woman?’

  ‘No. It was a suicide, sir. There was no need to investigate.’

  ‘The maid’s name and address?’

  The warden shook his head and spread his hands. ‘We were too busy.’

  Akitada suppressed a sharp reproof for such slovenly work.

  ‘I hope the child was well?’ Warden Takechi said.

  ‘Yes, thank you. He seems healthy.’

  ‘Good.’ The warden looked uncertainly at Akitada. ‘Well then, have you had any ideas about the doctor’s murder?’

  This was going to be difficult. Akitada took a deep breath and made a stab at it. ‘Have you considered motive? Who wanted Inabe dead? Who benefits from his death?’

  ‘Surely it was a robbery? Some villain came to steal and was discovered by the doctor.’ The warden added glumly, ‘The bastard’s probably long gone by now. We’re close to the capital, and once there, a man may disappear and never be found again.’

  Akitada knew this was true enough. ‘Was anything taken?’

  ‘Nothing apparently. I think the thief was surprised and ran.’

  Behind Akitada, Tora grunted. To forestall an interruption, Akitada said quickly, ‘Nothing? You had the servant check?’

  The warden looked uncomfortable. ‘A small amount of silver was still in one of the trunks. The servant says there’s never been more than that in the house. The doctor doesn’t charge his poor patients.’

  ‘Was it known that the doctor was poor?’

  ‘In Otsu, yes. Mind you, he wasn’t always poor. After his wife’s death, he started treating the poor for free. You saw the place.’

  ‘Yes.’ The memory depressed Akitada. ‘I don’t think your self-respecting professional thief would break into a poor man’s home, and if he did, he would certainly take a quick look around before departing. Of course, this may have been an amateur. But think of the position of the body. If the doctor had surprised a thief, he would have faced the man. Even if he had been frightened, he would not have taken his eyes off him. He would have backed away perhaps, but in that case the staff would have struck the front or side of his head, and he would have fallen backward. In this instance, he had turned his back on his visitor. That suggests that he knew him and wasn’t afraid.’

  ‘But who would kill him? He was respected and loved by all. People depended on him.’

  ‘As I said, Warden, you need to find a motive besides robbery.’

  Warden Takechi shook his head hopelessly. ‘I cannot think of one. He was a good man.’

  ‘And a good coroner?’

  ‘The best.’

  Akitada let a brief silence fall, then said, ‘I suppose he was the coroner who pronounced the courtesan’s death a suicide?’

  The warden frowned at this return to the earlier topic. ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘I have some questions about that case.’

  Takechi said nothing.

  ‘The neighbors think a child was living there.’

  ‘There was no child.’

  ‘And you found no other body in the water?’

  ‘No, but people drown and disappear in the lake all the time.’

  Akitada shook his head impatiently. ‘I think the boy I found is Peony’s son.’

  ‘What? Why? And how would the Mimuras end up with him?’

  ‘I don’t have all the answers yet, but I intend to find out. Perhaps the child ran away after his mother’s death, or he was placed in their care by someone else. Mimura’s a fisherman. Maybe he fished the child out of the lake. Cheap labor for the cost of a few bowls of millet and some rotten fish.’

  The warden shook his head dubiously.

  Akitada was groping in the dark and knew it. He thought that Nori was young Masuda’s son, but would that family want him? Should he even meddle in a matter that was none of his business? Who was to say that he was doing the child a favor? The Masuda family had certainly made no effort to help Peony or her child.

  But he pressed on anyway. ‘Mrs Ishikawa, the Masudas’ nurse, knew of the boy but refused to talk about him because Peony and her child are forbidden topics in that household.’

  The warden sat up. ‘Funny you should mention her, sir. Her son stopped by, the day before yesterday. Maybe she sent him to ask about you.’

  Tora’s growl, ‘There, I knew it,’ startled the warden.

  Akitada rose. ‘Forgive me for a moment. It’s getting late, and Tora must leave for the capital.’

  Outside, Akitada ignored Tora’s excitement and said, ‘It appears there may be something to your theory after all. Ishikawa is behaving strangely. I want you to check on him. Go back and see if he’s returned to the capital and what he’s up to. Then find Peony’s maid. She’s probably still connected with the Willow Quarter. You’ll know whom to ask. I’ll be back tomorrow.’

  Tora beamed. ‘Thanks, sir. But don’t you need me here?’

  ‘No. I’m going to have another talk with the Masuda family. Good luck.’

  FIFTEEN

  Family Secrets

  When Akitada rejoined the warden, he asked, ‘I wonder why Ishikawa was interested in my affairs. What did you tell him?’ ‘Well, he asked about your arrest. I said you’d taken an interest in a lost child, and his parents were trying to extort money. He seemed satisfied with that.’

  Akitada could well imagine Ishikawa gloating at the news. ‘I had rather not alert anyone else to my investigation at this point,’ he said. ‘To get back to Peony’s death, why is there so little information available?’

  ‘It was in the third month, sir. Not a good time. We had our hands full.’

  Akitada frowned. ‘The maid must have spoken to a constable. Is he available?’

  ‘No, sir. He died.’

  ‘Great heaven,’ cried Akitada in frustration. ‘Don’t you keep track of people?’

  ‘Impossible, even in good times. We register who owns property, but not who uses it. The house belongs to the Masudas. We don’t count transients.’

  Akitada shook his head. ‘Incredible.’

  The warden said, ‘Otsu is a city with special problems, sir. We have a busy harbor here, and everybody who travels to and from the eastern and northern provinces passes through.’

  Akitada nodded grudgingly. ‘But Peony was no transient. She had been living here for about five years,’ he pointed out. ‘I’m told she used to be a courtesan of the first class and was under the protection of the Masuda heir. You would think the authorities would have taken notice of her household.’

  The warden shook his head. ‘We don’t interfere with the Masudas’ private affairs. And when she died, we had the epidemic to worry about.’

  It seemed incredible that he had forgotten. It certainly explained the superficial investigation and the lack of interest in the child’s fate. Conditions would have been as chaotic here as they had been in the capital. ‘I’m sorry, Warden,’ he said, embarrassed. ‘I forgot. Of course. But the coroner did have a look at the body and was sure she had drowned?’

  Takechi sighed at Akitada’s persistence. ‘He was sure she drowned.’

  Akitada accepted it. If Peony had died from drowning, a coroner would have known the signs. It meant Sadanori was not responsible. Unless … ‘Could someone have drowned her? Taken her into the water and held her down?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ the warden said. ‘We were all terribly rushed, the doctor especially.’

  Since the investigation into Peony’s death had been the merest formality, Akitada could only guess at the reliability of Inabe’s verdict. In times of epidemics, individual deaths lost importance and, when tending many desperately sick patients, the doctor might well have rushed the job. Eventually, both she and her child had been forgotten among all the other tragedies.

  Akitada sighed. ‘I’m going to have another t
alk with the Masudas.’

  He knocked at the Masuda gate, and the same old man opened the window in the porter’s lodge and blinked at him.

  ‘My name is Sugawara,’ Akitada said, raising his voice. ‘I called here before.’

  The man nodded, disappeared, and the gate opened. Stepping in, Akitada said, ‘I want to speak to your master this time.’

  ‘The master sees no one.’

  ‘He will see me. This concerns a murder.’ And perhaps it did, at that.

  The servant was taken aback. ‘Who died, sir? We haven’t heard.’

  Akitada hesitated, then said, ‘Dr Inabe.’

  ‘The doctor? Murdered? Oh, you must not tell the master. It would kill him.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The doctor’s his friend. He’s been tending him like a brother. Oh, dear. What will I do?’ To Akitada’s surprise, the old man began to weep.

  Akitada said gently, ‘You must tell him, you know. Otherwise he will wonder why his friend isn’t coming to see him anymore.’

  ‘Oh, oh, oh.’ Moaning to himself, the old man shuffled off, and Akitada followed. They climbed the steps to the main house and took off their shoes. The servant held the heavy door for Akitada. They went through a dim hall with a painted, coffered ceiling and turned to the right, down a dark corridor. The old man’s sniffling sounded unnaturally loud. The floors were dark with age and beautifully polished. A subtle scent of sandalwood incense hung in the still air.

  The servant stopped at a carved door. Opening it softly, he put his head in and asked, ‘May I trouble you, Master?’

  Akitada heard nothing, but he could see part of a room lit by candles or oil lamps. After a moment, the servant opened the door a little wider and slipped in.

  Akitada followed. The room was large, very clean, and very plain. A dais with silk cushions ran along one wall. On it sat a figure that resembled the ancient Chinese sages on old silk scrolls: a gaunt old man with long, loose white hair and a beard that fell into his lap. The old man’s eyes were closed, and rosary beads twisted through the gnarled fingers of one hand.

  The whole scene was vaguely religious. The old man wore a black silk robe and brocade stole like a Buddhist clergyman. A small Buddha statue rested on a carved table across from him, and two tall candles burned on either side of the figurine. Incense, expensive sandalwood incense, curled up from a gilt censer. Akitada thought the old man had fallen asleep at his prayer until he saw one of the beads move through his fingers and the thin lips form a soundless word. Lord Masuda was a lay monk. And he was either deaf or so immersed in his spiritual world that nothing else penetrated.