"When my father died, my grandfather had a dream. In the dream my father appeared to him and told him that he must pray for him on the first day of the fourth month at sunrise, or the family would die out with me. My grandfather has carried out those instructions every year since then."
"Good heavens!" said Akitada, staring at the boy. "Do you plan to continue the tradition?"
"Of course! "The boy hesitated. "If I live to do so."
A heavy silence hung between them. Of course. The child stood between Sakanoue and one of the richest estates in the country. For a fanciful moment, Akitada wondered if the prince had actually performed the prescribed ritual on this occasion. He asked, "What were you told about the events at the temple?"
The boy tossed his head. "They came back with this story that my grandfather had gone into the shrine hall and stayed there. When he did not come out, Sakanoue and the others opened the door. My grandfather had disappeared. They all said the gods must have come for him, for there was no other way for him to leave."
"They?"
"My grandfather's companions. Besides Sakanoue, there were retainers, servants, and some of his friends."
"I shall need their names. Did they all watch and witness the disappearance?"
"Yes. Or so they said."
Akitada pulled his earlobe. "You know that they would have been investigated carefully before the emperor would lend his support to the story of a miracle?"
"His Majesty has been bewitched by Sakanoue," said the boy. "I wish I had been there! I wish I had stayed up to see my grandfather leave! I wish I had spoken to him one last time, but I expected to see him the next day. I was to ride with him in his carriage. He sent a message that I was to go to bed early to be ready for the journey."
Akitada was startled. "Journey? What journey?"
"We were to move to the country the next day. Grandfather wished to supervise the estates himself to make certain there were no future shortfalls."
"This plan to remove to the country, was it sudden?"
"Yes. The servants were all complaining about it. You never saw such a bustle of packing. There were boxes and chests everywhere, and the yard was full of wagons, clothes hampers and crates of bedding when I got up in the morning."
"So you were up when the news of your grandfather's death arrived?"
"Yes. General Soga, one of the gentlemen who had accompanied Grandfather, came shouting and knocking at the gate. When they let him in, his horse was all lathered up and he almost fell off in his hurry. I had heard the noise and I ran out to see what was happening. He saw me and took me inside. Then he told me that Grandfather had disappeared. Later Sakanoue arrived with the others. He said the gods had taken Grandfather to be with them, and we must be happy about it and build a shrine to his memory. He also said that he was my elder brother now, since he had married my sister. I told him he was lying and spat in his face. That's when he hit me and locked me in my room. Later that day he came and brought me here."
"That must have been terrible. I am very sorry," said Akitada helplessly, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder. But the child moved aside, and Akitada let his hand drop.
"I know Sakanoue killed my grandfather," the boy said fiercely. "You will prove it! Then I shall take control of my family and you will be rewarded."
Akitada said, "I shall certainly try."
"I was told by Tora that you are working on Nagai's case," the youngster continued. "I feel certain he is innocent, and his problem should not trouble you overmuch. Are you also helping with the murder of Professor Oe?"
"Not at the moment."
"Good!"The little lord rose. "In that case, you will be able to start investigating Sakanoue immediately. Remember the reward." He gave Akitada the tiniest of bows and was gone.
Akitada sat looking after him and laughed softly. Reward indeed! Young Lord Minamoto certainly knew how to put on the airs of the great man accustomed to giving orders. Still, the boy's awareness of his obligations was quite admirable and he had displayed considerable courage in his defiance of Sakanoue. On the whole, he thought, the young man showed much promise.
It was too late to go home, so he sent a servant to the staff kitchen for his noon rice and ate it alone in his room. When he was done, Hirata came in. Akitada saw with concern that the older man looked very tired and drawn again.
"How are you feeling today?" Akitada asked. "You gave me a scare yesterday."
"It was nothing. I am quite well again. Indigestion is one of the infirmities of old age. The reason I stopped in was to tell you that Sesshin has called a meeting. We had better be on our way."
Akitada was momentarily at a loss. "Sesshin?"
"The abbot of the Pure Water temple, but more importantly the director of the university. He is also our professor of Buddhism, a function he does not often carry out, because he prefers to live in his mountain villa which he intends to convert into a temple. He arrived about an hour ago; Oe's murder brought him back. No doubt he will disappear again as soon as he has appointed Oe's replacement."
"Hardly a testimonial of his devotion to the institution," said Akitada sarcastically, getting up and adjusting his hat and robe. Even at the best of times he had little respect for Buddhist clergy, and this one seemed lazier than most. "Isn't Ono back? Won't he take over for Oe?"
Hirata shook his head dubiously. "I have no idea. Ono has hoped for just this chance for a long time. I think it is the only reason he put up with Oe's abuse. But he is not the man Oe was, and Sesshin knows this."
They walked across the grounds to the Buddhist temple, discussing the effects of murder on their fixed routines. At one point, Akitada said, "Oh, young Minamoto spoke to me earlier. He has asked me to look into the matter of his grandfather's disappearance. He believes the prince was murdered by Sakanoue."
Hirata was so astonished he stopped in his tracks. "Lord Sakanoue? Oh, Akitada, please do not get involved in what is surely a mere child's fantasy. They say Sakanoue may become the next prime minister. If you let it be known that you support the boy in his charges, you will put yourself in jeopardy. You must speak to Sesshin about this."
Akitada laughed. "Speak to a monk? He is just about the last person I would consult."
Hirata shook his head impatiently. "I know all about your distaste for the religion, but in this case you cannot be aware of who Sesshin really is. He is another son of the Murakami emperor and the late Prince Yoakira's half brother. That makes him the boy's great-uncle."
Akitada's jaw dropped. He had assumed the boy had no male relatives left. "Sesshin is Sadamu's great-uncle?" he asked. "How could this man turn his back on the children? What sort of man is he?"
Hirata started walking briskly. "Come," he said. "That you must find out for yourself."
Crossing the street, they entered the temple courtyard. The doors of the small main hall stood wide open. Someone looked out and beckoned. They hurried in.
Akitada had forgotten how pretty the small temple was. It looked deceptively plain with its square, red-lacquered columns against the dark wood of ceiling and walls. Its only ornamentation was a lovely carved frieze of cranes, painted black and white with brilliant red patches on their heads. Behind the raised dais with its single cushion, covered in the imperial purple silk, hung five large scroll paintings of Buddhist deities. Before each scroll stood an elegant black-lacquered table with silver ceremonial implements.
Most of the others had already arrived and stood around chatting. In fact, apparently only the august personage himself was missing, for even the elusive Fujiwara and Ono had returned.
They greeted Ono first. Akitada had not expected grief, but the man looked both excited and smug. Akitada wondered if he had been confirmed as Oe's successor. They exchanged the conventional expressions of regret over Oe's death. Ono did not bother to explain his absence, and there was little point in pursuing the matter. Hirata turned to speak to someone else, but Akitada said, "You must be overwhelmed with duties. Will you re
ly on Ishikawa to give you a hand? I have not seen him since the poetry contest."
"I have no intention of employing that fellow," Ono said sharply. "He may know his Chinese, but his manners are unacceptable and he is completely unreliable. Would you believe it, he has taken off without so much as a note explaining where he went or when he planned to return?"
"I dare say Kobe will dig him up," said Akitada, and regretted his choice of words immediately. "You and Ishikawa were the last to see Oe alive that night, weren't you?"
Ono's eyes shifted nervously. "We only took him as far as Mibu Road. He insisted he had private business to take care of and ordered us to return to the competition to keep an eye on things."
"I see." Akitada decided to probe further. "I don't recall seeing either of you return."
Ono stiffened and glared at him. "I cannot speak for Ishikawa," he said coldly, "and I certainly don't feel I need to explain my actions to you, but I was quite unwell and had no desire to disgrace myself before the company, so I remained around the corner near the side stairs." Narrowing his eyes, he added, "For that matter, I saw you leave early, before the last competition started."
"My apologies." Akitada bowed. "I spoke thoughtlessly."
Ono acknowledged this with a curt nod. Akitada walked away, reflecting that the erstwhile worm was putting on the scales of the dragon already. Or had Ono always been a poisonous snake masquerading as a harmless creature?
He looked around and joined Nishioka, who was talking to Fujiwara. The latter seemed to have lost his booming good humor and merely looked tired and irritated.
But Nishioka's eyes sparkled. He was more cheerful than anyone else here. Tucking some loose strands of hair back into his topknot and scratching his lantern chin, he said to Akitada, "I was just telling our friend here that he need not worry about being arrested for Oe's death. I have thought about it and decided that his particular personality disqualifies him from all but the most brutal of murders, and then only if he were provoked upon the instant and carried out the deed without regard to his own safety."
"Thank you for that testimonial," said Fujiwara dryly. His cheek showed the ugly marks left by Oe's nails, and he had not bothered to change. Akitada noticed the blood stains on the sleeve of his robe and wondered if he only owned the one garment. "But," continued Fujiwara, "how will you convince the police captain that I did not have another quarrel with the man in the Temple of Confucius and lost my temper?"
Nishioka shook his head. "Impossible! You would not have bothered to tie him to the statue. You would have smashed a few things and run off to get drunk."
Fujiwara choked back a laugh. "I see my reputation is well established. Well, who, in your opinion, has the correct personality?"
"Oh, at least two people." Nishioka smiled slyly. "Though in one case I have not yet worked out how it was done unless he had an-" He broke off as a sudden hush fell in the hall.
A side door had opened and His Reverence entered. The noble monk was hardly a prepossessing figure. Very fat, he was dressed in a black silk clerical robe; a green and gold embroidered stole was slung across one shoulder and his paunch. He padded with a waddling gait to the raised dais and plopped down on the cushion with a grunt.
They all bowed deeply. Akitada risked a surreptitious look and saw a moon face with small deep-set eyes under heavy lids and a small, soft mouth. Sesshin surveyed the bowed backs impassively. To Akitada there was a sort of naked grossness about the man which was not entirely due to his shaven head. His smooth, round face had hardly any eyebrows and rested on a triple chin. The ears were enormous, with pendulous lobes which rested on fleshy shoulders.
Perhaps it was due to his natural and learned dislike for Buddhist clergy, but it seemed to Akitada that appointing a man such as this as president of the university, a spoiled member of the imperial family who had renounced his worldly career in order to devote himself to leisure and luxurious living, was another example of the weakness of the current government.
The fat monk cleared his throat and said in a soft, dry voice, "Thank you all for coming. Please be seated. "With a general shuffling of feet and rustling of robes they obeyed.
Sesshin looked over their heads and spoke in the same low, soft voice. "Recent events require my presence here and I take this opportunity to make a few announcements." The silence in the hall was profound as they all strained to hear. Akitada thought irritatedly that the man was even too lazy to raise his voice. "Because of the unfortunate death of our colleague, certain disruptions of my routine and yours are unavoidable, but we must attempt to carry on. You will, of course, meet your students as usual and cooperate fully with the police. Ono will temporarily see to the lectures on Chinese literature. I will send him a suitable assistant. As usual, when I am in residence, I will conduct a series of lectures on the scriptures. This time I will give a commentary on the Great Wisdom sutra. It will take place every afternoon immediately after the noon rice. You may announce this to your students. That is all." He nodded to them, rose with another grunt, and padded out.
That was all? For a moment Akitada sat stunned, while his colleagues got up and began to chatter. Then cold and irrational fury seized him. How dare the man? Before he was fully conscious of what he was doing, he was up and striding after the figure of the priest.
He passed through the door into a long dark corridor where the distant faint daylight gleamed on polished black boards. Ahead of him moved the large figure of the monk. Sesshin stopped at a door, disappeared into the room behind, and closed the door after him. Akitada opened it again and walked in.
"I want to speak to you," he snapped, adding lamely, "Your Reverence."
Sesshin had his back to him and was removing his stole. Turning slowly, he looked at Akitada. After a long moment he said, "You must be Sugawara. If I remember, abruptness was always a failing of the Sugawaras. Please be seated."
Akitada was still fuming. This man had deserted two helpless children. "What I have to say will not take long. I have just been told that you are the brother of the late Prince Yoakira."
Sesshin calmly folded the embroidered stole and draped it over a stand. The room contained little more than that, a pair of cushions and a small low table upon which were set a wooden rosary, a beautifully decorated sutra box and a brazier with a teapot. The monk lowered himself to the cushion next to it. "Forgive me for sitting down myself. I am an old man. I would offer you a cup of tea, but it is not customarily consumed while standing. You young fellows do not allow yourself enough leisure. All is haste and intensity for you."
"I am afraid that most of us do not have the privilege," Akitada said tartly. "I apologize for the abrupt intrusion, but I won't keep you from your leisure long. Your great-nephew, Lord Minamoto Sadamu, is presently a student here, and I had occasion to speak to him at some length this morning about a situation which is disturbing, to say the least."
Sesshin remarked placidly, "I hope the young scamp has not given you cause to complain of him?"
Akitada steadied his breath. "Not at all. Quite the opposite. He is extremely bright and has a sense of responsibility beyond his years. That is why I have acceded to his wish to investigate his grandfather's death."
Sesshin sighed and reached for his beads. He neither responded nor changed his calm demeanor. If anything, he seemed more indifferent than before. The heavy lids drooped over his deep-set eyes until he looked almost asleep.
"Have you nothing to say?" cried Akitada. "I had hoped that you would take an interest in your brother's grandchildren. They are quite alone in the world and, if I am not mistaken, in danger of their very lives."
There was no reaction from the monk, and Akitada turned to leave. "I am sorry," he said. "I was mistaken."
"A moment," said the soft dry voice. Akitada paused with his hand on the door latch and looked back over his shoulder. The smoldering black eyes were fully on him now. "You intrude most painfully into my hard-won peace," he said. "When I lost my brother, I nearly
lost myself. My faith wavered and my very soul was drowning in tears. I returned to the world to conduct the memorial service, and was told on that occasion that the children were in good hands, that they had chosen their future paths freely. After the service I returned to the mountains to ask the Buddha's help in emptying my heart and mind of the memories. I do not tell you this because I owe you an explanation, but because I am grateful that my great-nephew has found a friend in his teacher. Now you may go in peace."
Akitada wished to argue but knew it would be both futile and dangerous to do so. He bit his lip, bowed, and left.
Fourteen. Gate of Death
Since Lady Sugawara decided it was time for the annual cleaning of the family storehouse, Tora could not leave for the city until late in the day. When he was finally free to look for the old beggar, he headed first to the office of the eastern capital near the university.
Tora stated his business at the gate, and the guard became excited. "Hey, fellows!" he shouted. "Here's someone asking about old Umakai."
Guards, constables, and clerks gathered around them. All expressed concern about the old beggar. Umakai was their special pet, and they had missed him. He was expected regularly for his noon rice. This the guards and clerks provided by passing his bowl around for everyone to contribute a small share of his own meal until the old man's bowl was filled to overflowing. The trouble was he had not been seen, except for a brief visit right after his release from jail, and they were all worried.
Tora asked if Umakai might be eating elsewhere, for instance with their colleagues in the western office, but they assured him that those people had hearts of stone and arrested beggars as vagrants and loiterers. In short, nobody knew where Umakai might have disappeared to.
Tora thanked them, promising to keep them informed. He began walking through increasingly busy streets, stopping from time to time to ask peddlers and street musicians about the old man. Some knew Umakai, but none had seen him around lately. It was not until he neared the market that Tora picked up a clue, and when he did, the news was not good.
Rashomon Gate – A Mystery of Ancient Japan Page 21