The Old Men of Omi

by I. J. Parker

  The prefect looked shocked. “You cannot possibly suspect his family, sir.”

  Kosehira said firmly, “Of course we can. We can suspect everyone until we have the killer.”

  Ishimoda blinked. “Yes, I see, sir. I’m very sorry. But I don’t know why he was in the garden. Perhaps he saw something or someone?”

  Kosehira nodded. “That is quite possible. If he saw a stranger for example, he might have gone to investigate.”

  The prefect brightened. “That must be it then.”

  Akitada asked, “Did the servants have anything to report? Did anyone hear anything, for example?”

  “No, sir.”

  Akitada sighed. “Take us to the body, Prefect.”

  They had brought Taira Sukemichi into the reception room of the manor. There he rested on the dais, dressed in what appeared to be his best court costume, his hair arranged and topped with a court hat. It was impossible to see any injury.

  Akitada glanced at those present. Sukemichi’s family and household knelt below the dais. They wore the pale hemp mourning robes, and Sukemichi’s three wives were heavily veiled. The mourners had stopped their wailing at their entrance and watched as Kosehira and Akitada approached the body, bowed, and stood looking at it.

  There was a small stain on the new tatami mat Sukemichi’s head rested on. It suggested that the fatal wound had been to the back of the head and was still oozing a little. Sukemichi’s face was peaceful.

  Akitada regretted his death. Sukemichi had been a generous host and if perhaps a little too enamored of falconry, had not been unlikeable. Yet someone had hated him enough to kill him. Or perhaps it had indeed been a robber, surprised by the unlucky Sukemichi.

  After a suitable time, the prefect, Kosehira, and Akitada bowed again, then turned and bowed to the family. After that they left the room.

  Outside, Akitada said to the prefect, “It will be necessary to speak to the family. Would you please let them know?”

  ∞

  Only Sukemichi’s senior wife and his eldest son received them. They were in a smaller room behind the hall where the body lay, and the chanting of the monks could be heard clearly through the wall. It cast a special gloom over the interview.

  They expressed their condolences to Lady Taira, and his young heir, a fourteen-year-old, who looked confused. Having become Lord Taira so abruptly and being expected to direct the fortunes of his family was clearly beyond him. His mother, who sat to his side and slightly behind him, was no help at all. She never lifted her veil and seemed to wait for them to leave.

  An uncomfortable silence fell after they had all said their piece and the new Lord Taira had bowed each time. Kosehira cleared his throat and addressed the boy. “Regrettably, the prefect has some questions concerning what happened. It is a bad time, but I’m certain you will wish your father’s murderer caught as soon as possible.”

  The youngster nodded. “Yes. But I know nothing and neither does my mother.”

  Lady Taira confirmed this. “My husband’s death is a great shock. We are quite unable to grasp it, let alone give you any information. I speak for all of us.”

  “Forgive me,” said Akitada, “but did Lord Sukemichi spend the night alone?”

  Lady Taira gasped, and her son blushed to the roots of his hair. He shot a glance at his mother and said, “I believe so.”

  “And was it his custom to walk in the garden after rising in the morning?”

  The boy raised his chin and asked, “Why are you asking these questions? Are you not looking for the robber who killed my father?”

  Akitada took pity on him. “Of course, but we need to find anyone who may have seen or heard something. Besides, if we can establish that your father customarily walked in the garden, the killer may have known this and lain in wait, you see.”

  The boy’s eyes widened. “You mean someone planned to kill him?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Oh. Sometimes he would go into the garden, I think. Maybe his servant would know.” The new lord subsided into misery again.

  They said a few soothing words and departed. Outside, Kosehira said to Akitada, “I guess the wife didn’t spend the night in Sukemichi’s bed.”

  “No, but someone else may have. She had a strong reaction to my question. And the son was clearly embarrassed. We’d better check with the servants.”

  Ishimoda offered timidly, “Must we ask such questions? It seems unnecessary and is clearly offensive to her ladyship.”

  Akitada eyed him with a raised brow. “We must, Prefect. After a murder there is no privacy left. All the family secrets are inspected.”

  Kosehira said nothing, but he looked unhappy. Akitada got an inkling of how most people felt about his own methods, indeed, about his meddling in murder cases. He steeled himself against his doubts. Not only was it right to pay this debt to the murdered man, but leaving his murderers free was surely an offense against the gods.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Family Secrets

  There was a rather strange scene in the courtyard when they emerged.. One of the servants, a middle-aged male, was headed toward the gate, pulling a well-dressed young woman by her arm. She was sobbing loudly. His grip on her arm was certainly not gentle, and he gave her an occasional jerk forward to make her walk faster.

  Kosehira said, “I wonder what that’s all about?” Leaning over the railing, he shouted to the servant, “You there! Come here, and bring the girl with you!”

  The man stopped to look back. Giving the woman a push toward the gate, he started toward them. The prefect called out to his men, who seized the young woman and brought her back. The two stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking frightened.

  “Well,” said Kosehira, “let’s find out why he was in such a hurry to take this young woman away.”

  They walked down to the pair. The young woman was very pretty, even with her eyes swollen from weeping and her nose red. Akitada noted that her clothes were good silk, not the cotton or ramie he would have expected of a servant. She also wore her hair long. He thought he knew what had been happening and why she looked so frightened and distraught.

  Kosehira perhaps also guessed, for he spoke quite gently to her. “My dear,” he said, “don’t be frightened. Nobody will punish you. Just answer our questions, and if you are truthful, I’ll see what can be done for you. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

  She sniffed, bowed, and said, “This person is called Mineko. I’m one of the maids. Her ladyship told Kato to take me away.”

  Kosehira looked at the servant. “And you are Kato?”

  The man bowed and said, “Yes. I serve his lordship as major domo. I was showing this girl the way out. On orders of her ladyship.”

  The girl hung her head.

  “It seems to me,” said Akitada, “that this is a strange time to deal with unsatisfactory servants when your master has just died.”

  Kosehira said, “I agree.”

  The majordomo compressed his lips. “No doubt her ladyship had her reasons.”

  The girl fell to her knees. “Please help me. I don’t know where to go. I was born in this house.”

  Kosehira and Akitada exchanged a glance. Kosehira asked the major domo, “By any chance, was this young woman favored by Lord Sukemichi?”

  The servant said nothing, but Mineko cried eagerly, “His lordship was very kind to me. He would never send me away like this.” Tears welled up again and she pressed a hand to her stomach.

  Akitada thought he recognized the gesture. “Are you with child?” he asked her. “His lordship’s child?”

  Ishimoda gasped audibly.

  She flushed a deep crimson. “Oh, no! Never. His lordship was like a father to me.”

  The majordomo sneered, “If she’s with child, it’s because she’s been lying with the stable hands.”

  She burst into protestations, and Kosehira said firmly, “Stop this. Mineko will stay here with the other maids until the matter is clear
ed up. And you, Kato, will do well to remember that you may be given twenty lashes if you’ve been lying.”

  Kato paled and bowed.

  When they had left, Kosehira said to Akitada, “If she was Sukemichi’s mistress, it would give his wife a motive, surely?”

  “Perhaps. If she felt very strongly about her husband’s affairs.” Akitada turned to the prefect. “Show us where the body was found, and on the way perhaps you’d better tell us what your coroner said.”

  If the prefect was surprised that Akitada asked the questions, he did not say so. He told them that the fatal wound had been to the back of the head and that Lord Sukemichi’s skull had been broken to pieces so that some of his brains had escaped.

  “A very powerful blow to the head then?”

  “Several blows, sir. The first probably felled him. Then the killer hit him again and again to make sure he was dead.”

  Kosehira muttered, “That’s a lot of hate.”

  “Or fear,” said Akitada. “Fear of being discovered, if he was a robber. In a panic, a man can become both strong and vicious.”

  “That’s true, but what about a woman?”

  “Less likely, but Lady Taira is in her thirties and looked tall.”

  They had arrived in a part of the garden some distance from the house. The prefect pointed to an area of disturbed moss and earth beside a path of stepping stones. A darker spot in the moss showed where Sukemichi’s head had lain and bled. His feet had been near the path.

  “So he was walking along and the killer came up behind him,” said Akitada. “I suppose it’s just possible that an intruder, afraid of being caught, circled behind Sukemichi to strike him down. But it’s more likely that the killer was hiding and somehow lured Sukemichi to this place. Have your men searched the area?”

  “No, sir. We didn’t wish to disturb the family.”

  Akitada frowned at him. “There has been a murder. It’s more important that everything be done to find the killer.”

  Ishimoda glanced at Kosehira and said, “Yes, sir. Allow me to arrange for a search. What are the men to look for?”

  “Did the coroner offer any suggestion s about the weapon the killer used?”

  “Not really. He said it could’ve been anything. A piece of wood or a branch or a staff.”

  Akitada sighed. “Let’s have a look for it, shall we? A piece of silver for the man who finds it.”

  The prefect bowed and left to organize the search. Kosehira was going to turn back also, but Akitada stopped him. “Just a moment. I bet the constables didn’t bother to search around the body.” He peered closely at the ground, then walked a few steps either way along the path that Sukemichi had walked in the last few moments of his life, looking this way and that among the shrubs, ferns, and mossy stones on either side of the path.

  He found it just about an arm’s throw from where Sukemichi had fallen. The small figurine rested in a tuft of uncurling ferns. Akitada bent closer, hardly daring to breathe.

  It could not be.

  Sukemichi was much younger than the others: a mere forty years to their late sixties and seventies. And he was a ranking nobleman within his own domain.

  But if a robber could have entered here, then the Jizo killer could have done the same.

  Akitada straightened and called to Kosehira. The prefect had also returned and joined them.

  Kosehira peered. “Dear me! It’s another one!” He picked it up to show the prefect.

  Ishimoda chuckled. “It’s nothing. Just a cheap toy. It probably belongs to one of the children. We found it beside the body and tossed it aside.”

  “It’s not a toy,” said Akitada, taking the Jizo and turning it in his hands. “The killer left this. It’s like the one that was found with the peasant Wakiya. You will have to send one of your men back down into the gorge where they found the other peasant. I think he’ll find another Jizo down there.”

  The prefect gaped at him as if he had lost his mind.

  Kosehira said, “Yes, I think you’d better, Prefect. Lord Sugawara thinks someone is killing people and leaving those things behind.”

  “But that sounds mad.” The prefect looked confused.

  “He may be.” Akitada held up the Jizo. “But if you find a Jizo in the gorge, we will be sure that the same man killed at least five people.”

  Before the prefect could say anything else, one of the constables returned at a run. He waved a broken length of wood. “It was outside the wall,” he gasped. “I climbed up to get a better look, and there it was on the other side, caught in the crook of a branch. He must have thrown it over the wall.”

  “Good man!” Akitada took the piece of wood. It was part of an ordinary walking staff, the kind people used on long journeys, sturdy but not as thick as the fighting staffs he and Tora had used. He looked at it carefully. One end had splintered off. The other was the part that touched the ground, and it bore traces of blood and a few black hairs. The killer had broken his weapon when he had killed Sukemichi and thrown the useless pieces away. “Yes,” he told the constable, “you have found the weapon that killed Lord Sukemichi. Or part of it. The rest must be in the same area.” He gave the grinning constable the promised piece of silver and sent him off to search for the other piece.

  ∞

  Later they began the questioning of the servants, the house servants first, and the stable hands and gardeners afterward.

  Sukemichi’s personal attendant, a stiff, middle-aged man, froze further when asked about his master’s sleeping arrangements. Reluctantly, he told them that his master had had an occasional female servant in his room, but had slept alone on the night before his death. As for his relations with his wives, he had been accustomed to visiting them in their quarters. He could not identify Sukemichi’s bed partners.

  The prefect looked uncomfortable, but Kosehira only waited until the servant had gone before saying, “I suppose if he’s taken to sleeping with that maid, his wives would not have been pleased. What if the Jizo really is a coincidence?”

  Akitada frowned. “It took great strength to kill Sukemichi. I don’t think it was the work of a woman, though she could have ordered or hired a man to kill her husband. If he came from outside, it was either fortuitous for him that Sukemichi wandered about the garden alone, or he lay in wait for him. I don’t think this is a domestic quarrel. From what we have seen in the other cases, I would guess he came from the outside.”

  “Oh,” said Ishimoda. “I see now that it makes sense to think it was this killer. I confess it’s a relief. Much better than involving the family.”

  Kosehira gave him a pitying look. “He could have acted for someone in the family,” he said.

  Akitada agreed, but he suspected strongly that this killer had his own motive. They continued their questioning without coming up with useful information. There was some agreement that the dogs had barked during the night, but evidently all the gates had been locked. Sukemichi had insisted on security because of his falcons. None of the people currently working inside the compound were recently employed, and none had the sort of freedom that would have allowed him to visit Otsu to carry out the other murders.

  And there was still no clear motive.

  The maid Mineko had nothing to offer except more tears and the fact that she had done nothing to deserve being dismissed.

  One curious fact emerged when they were talking to the oldest servant in the compound. He was nearly seventy, a stable hand, and gave his name as Tosuke. Impressed by the old man’s sturdy appearance, Akitada asked him if he had any plans to retire as Wakiya and Juro had done.

  “Oh, them!” Tosuke said with a sneer. “Lazy bastards both.”

  Someone else had called them lazy. It seemed curious that Sukemichi’s father should have rewarded laziness with a gift of land. An idea began to form in Akitada’s mind. He said, “I take it you remember the time when Lord Sukemichi’s father was alive and they worked here?”

  “I may be old but my memory’s
good,” Tosuke snapped. “Maybe better than yours.”

  Tosuke clearly took advantage of the fact that old people were allowed to say things that would get younger ones in trouble. With a smile, Akitada asked, “What do you remember about them?”

  “Them or the old lord?”

  “Either, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind as long as you make plain what you mean.”

  Akitada almost apologized. “Very well. Were you surprised when Lord Sukenori gave them both a piece of land of their own?”

  “No.”

  “But it seems unlikely that he would reward laziness.”

  The old man said darkly, “Not if it suits him.”

  “Ah. So why did it suit him in their case?”

  “How should I know? I wasn’t there.”

  “You weren’t there when?”

  The old man snapped, “I can’t be everywhere. Only the kami can do that.”

  Akitada detected a steely glint in the old eyes and got a premonition that he was not going to get any more information. He tried anyway.

  “I take it that something happened involving Wakiya and Juro. You weren’t there at the time, but you have a notion that they performed some service for which Lord Sukemichi gave them their land. Am I right?”

  The old man cocked his head. “Have it your way. I wasn’t there, but I know they were lazy bastards.”

  With an inward sigh, Akitada gave up. When the old man had gone, he said to Kosehira, “I wish we had the time to delve more deeply into the story of Sukemichi’s father’s surprising generosity, but I’m afraid it will take too much time and may well be irrelevant.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Pact

  Saburo was aware that something was wrong with Tora. He had realized it quickly after they had brought him back from the mountain. Once or twice, he had tried to ask him what had happened, but Tora had shaken his head and said, “Nothing.”