The abbot sat up stiffly. “We cannot afford to have ugly rumors spread. They are mistaken. Their father was never here. Really, you must not imagine that this temple is a den of murderers. That is quite outrageous."
"Surely it would not hurt to make a thorough search of the grounds and buildings and ask some questions. Someone may have seen the old man."
But it was too late. The abbot had become angry and defiant. Tucking his hands into his deep sleeves, he glowered at Akitada. “I cannot imagine why you would doubt my word. If you persist in mentioning this false story to people and spread tales about poor Hosshu's death, I shall be forced to report the matter to His Majesty."
Time to depart, but the ache in Akitada's leg had only just begun to subside. “I beg your pardon, Venerable Father. Finding a body and then hearing that an elderly person got lost at this time of the year caused me to imagine some connection between the two. No doubt his sons will find him soon. What was their name again?"
The abbot huffed. “I do not know. They are in some sort of trade. Such men are very grasping. Possibly they want the temple to reimburse them for the loss of their father."
Akitada nodded. “Ah, you believe him dead then. There is much evil in this world. Thank you very much for explaining the matter.” The abbot glared and reluctantly Akitada staggered to his feet. “Perhaps you should mention their attempt at extortion to the police,” he suggested.
The abbot snapped, “The police have no jurisdiction here. As for Hosshu's accident, we will deal with it ourselves. I trust you will respect the sanctity of this temple."
It sounded like an order, perhaps even a threat. Akitada bit his lip, bowed again, and left.
His young guide had disappeared, and the abbot's attendant slammed the door behind him. Favoring his sore leg, Akitada limped back to the main gate. When he passed the bell tower, he saw that the cat had returned to its investigations. At the main gate, Akitada found the new gatekeeper and asked if he had heard about his predecessor's death.
The monk shivered. “Yes. They told me."
"I understand he was not well liked?"
The monk looked uncomfortable. “Hosshu got others to do his work, that's all. I didn't know he was so unhappy. I would have been nicer to him."
So the monks thought the death a suicide. Akitada asked, “Could Hosshu have admitted the old man who disappeared?"
"Oh no. His name would be in the visitors’ book. I checked."
Akitada accompanied the monk into his cubicle to look for himself. He found his own name and just above it, the names of Yutaka and Hikaru Miyahara. Then he ran his finger up the list of visitors for the week before the New Year. According to the gatekeeper, the names belonged to a merchant family, a group of young monks from another temple, two women, several farmers and tradesmen who had come to collect payment for goods or services before the New Year, and two of the temple's debtors who had discharged their debts.
"What about private guests?” Akitada asked, thinking of Sesshin.
"Private visitors don't sign in."
It seemed that Sesshin's messenger had never reached the temple.
Akitada thanked the monk and got on his horse. On the road home, he caught up with two men who must be the Miyahara brothers.
For brothers, they were very dissimilar. The tall one wore a simple dark robe and looked glum, while the other was a short and fleshy man in cheap, colorful pants and a quilted jacket. Akitada saw that he had a black eye and cut lip, and stopped.
He introduced himself and said, “I heard about your problem. What made you think your father came to this temple?"
The older brother took a folded note from his sleeve and handed it to Akitada with a bow. It was a short letter, addressed to “My elder son.” In it, the father explained that he would not arrive until New Year's Day because he was making a stop at the Pure Water Temple. When Akitada looked up, the older brother said, “He never arrived. It isn't like him, sir. We always celebrate the New Year together."
Akitada returned the letter. “Could he have forgotten and made other plans?"
The younger brother cried, “Oh, our father is never forgetful. His mind is very sharp. He used to be a teacher.” His brother tugged his sleeve, and the speaker blushed and hung his head.
Something about that exchange made Akitada take a chance. “Does the name Ueda mean anything to either of you?"
They looked at each other. “How did you know, sir?” the older brother asked. “It's a family secret. After my father left the palace, he went into trade and changed his name."
Akitada hid his surprise. He said, “Ah, that explains it. In that case, I too would like to speak to him. Will you let me know as soon as he turns up?"
They bowed, looking puzzled, and he left them.
At home he soaked his sore leg in a hot bath and considered the problem. He let his mind move freely and in no particular order among the bits of information he had gathered. What had happened all those years ago to force a well-born and learned man to change his name and take up a trade? It must have been a serious offense. Why then had Sesshin put his trust in such a man? He next thought about the prince and his young woman and what would make them so careless with their correspondence. And he pondered the abbot's behavior. The man had been too quick to reject the possibility of murder and had refused to call in the authorities. Why?
Finally, he considered the missing letter that had started this whole business. Since it had been offered for sale to the prince-bishop, the motive for the theft had been greed. Greed was a very common motive for crimes. The temple was begging for donations. And the Miyahara brothers might indeed be desperate for money.
Remembering the younger brother's black eye, Akitada decided that Tora, his trusty servant and assistant, could make inquiries. Satisfied with this decision, he closed his eyes and dozed. Images of crows and cats flitted in and out of his semiconscious state, leaving him with an oddly unpleasant feeling. He cut his bath short.
Tora accepted his assignment with pleasure and was gone all night. The next morning, Akitada was in his study, frowning at a tray of moon cakes left by his wife, a reminder that neither food nor human effort should go unappreciated, when Tora strolled in to make his report.
Yutaka, the older brother, was a well-liked and respected merchant who traded in paper and writing utensils. The younger, Hikaru, was a penniless artist. He was considered a misfit who drank too much, gambled, and periodically had to be bailed out of jail by his older brother. This year for the first time, the older brother had not been able to discharge all his debts and his suppliers refused him credit. The shop was on the point of closing. The younger brother's injuries seemed to be due to a drunken brawl.
Akitada pursed his lips. “So he is a wastrel and criminal, that younger brother. He is ruining the older one, and that means both have a motive for killing their father and taking the letter."
Tora shook his head. “Don't think so, sir. I liked Hikaru. He's a cheerful fellow. Likes women, wine shops, and good conversation.” Tora grinned. “It was like old times, chatting him up. You owe me five pieces of silver, by the way."
Akitada glowered. “Five pieces of silver for a night of debauchery? And you a married man and father? How could you? I will not support the shocking lifestyle of your past."
Tora looked hurt. “An investigation involves certain expenses,” he pointed out. “This fellow wouldn't have jabbered so freely if I hadn't put him in the right frame of mind. Turns out he got a lecture from his older brother and was pretty glum when I found him in his rented room."
Akitada relented a little. “Well, what did you get for my money?"
Tora helped himself to one of the sweet cakes. Chewing, he said, “Years ago, the old man ran afoul of the chancellor when he walloped one of the imperial princes. Seems the little bastard set a cat on fire."
"Ueda laid hands on an imperial child?” Akitada sat up. “It is a wonder he was not executed."
Tora nod
ded and eyed another cake. “These are delicious. Your lady is a treasure. Anyway, it was touch and go. Your friend, the bishop, put in a good word."
"I see.” Before his ill-chosen remark about the moon cakes, Tora had said something that jogged a memory, but Akitada could not now recall what it had been. He said peevishly, “Stop stuffing yourself. In any case, none of it explains why the old man should have disappeared. I think I had better speak to the bishop again."
* * * *
The bishop's secretary admitted him and asked eagerly, “Any news?” When Akitada shook his head, Shinnyo said, “A pity. He is worse today. Good news would have cheered him.” Akitada felt guilty as, no doubt, was intended.
Sesshin's eyes were dull and his voice weaker. “Well?” he asked, while the secretary fussed around him with tea and an extra stole.
Akitada felt uncomfortable discussing the case with Shinnyo there but decided that the ailing bishop needed him. He reported all that had happened and what he and Tora had managed to learn. The bishop closed his eyes and compressed his lips when Akitada spoke of Hosshu's death.
A silence fell. Akitada grieved for the old prince and felt ashamed that he had failed. He said desperately, “Reverence, I shall need permission to speak to the young lady."
Sesshin did not reply for a long while, then nodded. “Yes. I shall arrange it. You may call on her father tomorrow morning."
* * * *
The home of the second prince's beloved stood among the residences of minor officials. Like Akitada's home, it had fallen on hard times. The overgrown garden looked tangled, and parts of the compound were in ruins. Akitada did not know what to expect of the family. The prince's relationship with the young woman was very unclear to him. Was she a mere kept mistress or an innocent girl who had caught the eye of an heir to the throne? Perhaps her father's manner would explain the situation.
Lord Yoshida served as assistant director in the Bureau of Statistics and looked suited to his duties. A dull and proper man, he did not smile and behaved so correctly and spoke so properly that Akitada felt slovenly by comparison.
He had been informed of the reason for the visit and reluctantly permitted Akitada to speak to his daughter in his presence. It was impossible to guess what his feelings were about the affair between the girl and the imperial heir, but he was clearly upset that the letter should have disappeared from his house. He seemed to look at its loss as a personal failure.
After Yoshida sent for his daughter, Akitada had another surprise. The young woman came quickly. She was alone and carried a fan, which she used gracefully but without the pretense of shyness that causes great ladies to hide behind screens. Perhaps it was her youth or her father's lack of position, but Akitada found her forthright manner charming and unaffected. No wonder the second prince had lost his heart.
Her father said, “Lord Sugawara has come to help us. Please answer his questions, my dear."
The young woman bowed and gave Akitada a tiny smile over her fan. “I am honored, sir,” she said in a pretty voice. “It concerns His Highness's letter, doesn't it?"
"Yes.” Akitada, grateful for such directness, decided to be equally direct. “Its loss is causing some awkwardness for him. I wondered if you or your father could help me find the thief who took it, for it must have been taken from this house."
She looked at her father. “But it cannot have happened that way. Nobody but His Highness ever comes to my room."
Akitada blushed, embarrassed by such artless candor. The young woman's father cleared his throat. “It was no thief,” he said stiffly. “The house is very well protected by guards. My daughter's letter must have been misplaced, and a copy must have fallen into the wrong hands elsewhere."
The daughter added quickly, “We have turned my rooms upside down."
Akitada assumed that the guards had been provided by the second prince, and accepted the fact that no outsider could have entered the compound to steal the letter. The possibility had been remote from the start. He asked, “Where did you keep your letters?"
"In a small box in a trunk with my gowns. At night, I take it out and sleep with it beside me."
Akitada's heart melted. Oh, to be so young and in love again! He thought of his own troubled marriage and grieved the loss of such happiness. Turning to her father, he asked, “Have any of your servants left the household recently?"
The other man looked taken aback. “Not recently, no. My daughter's nurse got married last year and now lives with her husband who is a brush maker. But that was months ago."
"Was it before or after this particular letter arrived?"
Father and daughter looked at each other. She said after a moment, “It was at the time, I think, but Kogimi would never—” She broke off, looking upset.
It was what Akitada had hoped to hear. He left with directions to the nurse's house.
* * * *
The former nurse lived with her husband in a quarter of small shops, but her modest house was getting an addition and had new shutters across the front. Noting this, Akitada knocked on the door. A young maid opened and informed him that the master was away.
"Your mistress then,” Akitada said firmly, causing the little maid to open the door wider so he could step inside. Instead of waiting, he followed her down a stone-flagged hallway, passing a kitchen on one side and a workroom on the other. The main living area was on a raised section in the back. Seeing the shiny boards and new tatami mats, Akitada slipped off his boots before stepping up.
The nurse sat beside a warming brazier, sewing some garment. She was hardly a blushing bride. Well past her first youth and broadfaced, she had a sturdy body that would soon go to fat.
She looked him over with shrewd eyes and bowed. “My husband's away,” she said. “Can I give him a message?"
Having noted the signs of recent affluence, Akitada was satisfied that he had found his blackmailer. “No,” he said. “My business is with you. It concerns the letter you stole and sold to His Reverence."
She dropped her sewing and gasped. “Wh—what can you mean, sir?"
"Come, come!” Akitada glowered down at her. “You know the letter was properly paid for—or do you deny that?"
In an agony of indecision, she looked about the room. “N—no. I mean ... what is this about?"
"Don't play games with me,” Akitada thundered. “You took the gold but did not turn over the goods. You are a thief and will be arrested."
That shocked her. She wailed, “But I gave it to the old monk. A very old one in a straw cape. He took the letter away with him. I swear by the merciful Kannon.” Getting on her knees, she knocked her head on the new tatami mats. “Dear heaven, how could I know he was a thief? He had the gold and asked for the letter. I'm just a simple woman. How could I know that there are such cheats in the world?"
Akitada poked her round figure with his foot. “Stop that wailing and tell me when this monk came here."
"It was the last day of the year. Before dusk. It was snowing."
"Can your husband confirm your story?"
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, he can. We were both home the whole day waiting for him. That old villain of a monk read the letter, then he tucked it in his robe and walked off without so much as a thank you."
Giving her a hard look, Akitada did the same. He was angry at her duplicity and wracked his brain how the couple might be punished without involving the second prince. Preoccupied with his anger, he did not see the cat that suddenly streaked out of the kitchen and into his path. It collided with his boot, hissed and spat, then climbed to a shelf high on the wall, looking balefully down at him.
At that moment, Akitada knew what had niggled at his mind.
Cats.
The cat the imperial child set on fire and the cat at the bell tower. The cat at the bell tower had had that same baleful expression and had taken an altogether too persistent interest in the broken masonry.
Compressing his lips, Akitada hurried home for his horse.
At Kiyomizu-dera the young monk was again helping the gatekeeper, but today he greeted Akitada with reserve.
"I want another look at your bell tower,” Akitada said, heading off in that direction.
The young monk ran after him. “Why?"
Akitada hurried up the steps, ignoring the warning twinge in his bad leg. “The cat,” he said.
"The cat?"
"Yes. The cat was hanging about there. I want to know why."
"Mice, probably,” said the monk. “We're in the forest here. The cat is wild, just like all the other animals. The abbot won't let us trap them."
"Quite right too,” muttered Akitada. He was cold and miserable and very uneasy about what he would find. “You are forbidden to take another creature's life."
He halted before the bell tower's damaged masonry and saw that it was as he had remembered. A part of the foundation had collapsed, and someone had stacked the loose stones up again without mortar. He bent to peer more closely at the rubble. Here, under the protection of the wide eaves, the ground was dry and dusty. The tracks of tiny feet passed in and out through small openings between the stones. Nearby were the larger tracks of the cat.
"You see? It's just mice,” said the young monk, with a smirk.
Akitada sniffed. “What about the smell?"
The monk made a face. “Some of the mice must be dead."
But Akitada had begun to kick at the loose stones. Two large chunks rolled free, and the smell got stronger.
His companion pulled his sleeve. “Sir, please don't damage the bell tower."
Akitada shook him off. “Go, fetch the abbot.” He returned to his demolition of the foundation.
The poorly covered section of the foundation soon collapsed, revealing a hole. And in the hole were a pair of human feet shod in worn straw sandals. Holding his breath, Akitada seized them by the ankles and pulled. The corpse of an elderly man in monk's robes slid out. He was dreadfully bruised about the face and head. Thin lines of blood had seeped from his nostrils and the swollen lips. In spite of this, the old man's expression was astonishingly peaceful and content.
AHMM, January-February 2007 Page 25