by I. J. Parker
Genba sat down abruptly and looked at Ohiro. She’d never been prettier, he thought. Her happiness made her face glow. He swore to himself he would try to put that look on her face as often as he could. “How did you get this?” he asked, half afraid.
“Shokichi got it, along with her own, from one of the begging monks. He told her it was a gift from the Buddha and to thank him. Isn’t it wonderful? Isn’t it a miracle?” She came to kneel beside him and hugged him. “Oh, Genba, you look worried. Say you’re happy, too. Say you’ll marry me now. Say we can finally be happy together.”
“A begging monk?” Had Saburo’s attacker returned the papers to the women? And what did it mean for Ohiro and himself?
He put one arm around her, held her, and said, “I love you, Ohiro. I’ll marry you with or without this contract. We will be happy together somehow and sometime, but I don’t know if this is legal. The contract was stolen. All of them were stolen. What if Tokuzo’s heirs claim you back because they were stolen?”
“Stolen? How could that be? Maybe Tokuzo made a will. That’s why a monk brought them back. Maybe he was trying to make up for his bad life. Or his heirs are trying to make up for his sins. Can they really force me to work for them again?”
“Ohiro, there’s no will. At least not one leaving the contracts to you and the others. The heirs own your contract, and they’ll either keep you or sell you to someone else.”
Tears rose to her eyes. “How do you know they were stolen? The others outside are celebrating with the silver they’d saved up to buy themselves out. I gave them some of our money for my share.” She wailed, “Oh, Genba, you must be wrong.”
“Never mind, Love. You did right to pay your share.”
They sat close together, arms around each other’s waists, and grieved the unreliability of good fortune.
After a while, Genba said, “I forgot. I came to tell you that the master will help us. So you see, all will be well after all.” He smiled down at her.
“How very good he is! But Genba, if only we didn’t need to borrow the money from him. Do you know that most of the girls are going to sell themselves again? To a better master, they think. They want the money. And they like the life. They say while they’re young and pretty and men will pay to lie with them, they’ll make as much money as they can. They think there’s time enough to settle down with a husband when they’re no longer young. By then they’ll have a good dowry, and a husband will be found easily, even if they’re no longer pretty.”
Genba frowned. “That’s foolishness.” He paused, then asked, “That’s not what you would do, is it?”
Ohiro’s eyes grew round. “Of course not. I love you. I could never do such a thing.”
He held her close and kissed her, but he thought he might not be able to pay back what he owed. It was such a very large amount of money. And he also worried about bringing Ohiro into the Sugawara house. Even if the master and mistress made her welcome, the others would surely remind her where she had come from. He pictured her tears to himself and sighed deeply.
“Oh, stop it.” Ohiro jumped up and stamped her foot. She waved the contract in front of his face. “I don’t care what you say, Genba. We don’t need your master’s money. I’m free. See?” And before his eyes, she tore the document into a lot of small pieces.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said weakly.
She fetched the oil lamp and fed the pieces, one by one into the flame until nothing but ashes remained. “Now who is going to prove Tokuzo owned me?” she demanded triumphantly.
Genba just shook his head. But he could see she had a point. The contract was gone. His spirits lifted. Surely it was fair she should be free. She had paid for her freedom many times over and been beaten black and blue for her efforts. A smile broke out on his face.
Outside, the festive noise subsided. He listened a moment, then got to his feet and went to the door. Opening it, he peered out and saw that Ohiro’s neighbors had gathered at the street corner.
Ohiro came to join him. “What happened?”
“I have no idea. Should we go take a look?”
They stepped outside just in time to see Shokichi detaching herself from the group to run toward them.
“Police,” she gasped when she was close enough. “They’re coming for you. You’d better run.”
“Police?” Genba stared at her. “Is this still about Tokuzo?”
“Yes. They want both you and Ohiro. Oh, those cursed contracts!”
Ohiro giggled. “All gone,” she cried. “No proof! You’d better go right now and burn yours, Shokichi.”
Genba saw the crowd was breaking apart and red coats appeared. The red coats marched toward them.
Shokichi shook a fist at them. “Too late. Somebody told them where to find you.”
Ohiro looked up at Genba. “Can they arrest us?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, Genba.” Her face crumpled. The bruises showed clearly even in the fading light.
Genba waited with his arm around Ohiro. Shokichi disappeared.
The redcoat in front was the senior policeman, a sergeant to judge by his head dress. He grinned and waved his constables, five of them, armed with cudgels and chains, forward. “You’re the one they call Genba?”
“I am.” The constables surrounded Genba and Ohiro. For a fleeting moment, Genba considered fighting them. Six altogether, but he was much bigger and those little cudgels wouldn’t help them. But he rejected the idea. There was Ohiro to be considered.
“And she’s the prostitute Ohiro?”
“She is my wife Ohiro.”
The sergeant barked a laugh. “Wife? You must be joking.”
The constables sniggered.
“Ohiro is my wife. How can we help you?”
The sergeant grinned at his men. “He’s a cool one, isn’t he?” He mimicked, ‘How can we help you?’”
They laughed.
“And he’s taken the harlot for his wife.”
Genba clenched his fists and started forward, but Ohiro snatched his arm. “No, Genba. Please, no! You’ll make things worse.”
She was right.
“Mind your tongue,” he growled at the sergeant. “What do you want?”
They still sniggered. The sergeant fished a piece of official-looking paper from his sleeve. “You, Genba, and you, Ohiro, are both under arrest for the murder of the businessman Tokuzo and the theft of his gold and his contracts with the women belonging to his house.” He folded it and returned it to his sleeve. “Chain them!” he ordered his men.
Genba pulled Ohiro closer and stepped back. “There’s some mistake. That matter’s been cleared up.”
It did no good. The constables wrapped them in chains in a moment.
Genba did not fight them. He pleaded with the sergeant, “I didn’t kill him. And Ohiro wasn’t anywhere near Tokuzo’s place.”
“Ah! But we just got new evidence!” The sergeant grinned and pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the celebrants, who were watching anxiously from the distance. “Seems like you two stole the contracts and handed them around to the other girls.”
“That’s not true.”
The sergeant ignored this. “Search her place,” he commanded. Two of his men went into Ohiro’s room. Genba thanked the Buddha Ohiro had burned the contract. Of course, the other women probably had not. Who had pointed the finger at them?
Ohiro voiced her own suspicion. “Who told you such lies about us?” she demanded.
“We’ll soon find out if they were lies,” the sergeant told her. “We’ve got ways of dealing with scum like you.”
The constable emerged empty-handed. “Not there.”
“Search them!”
What followed was humiliating and painful. The five constables conducted a body search of Genba and Ohiro that was both thorough and rough. In the case of Ohiro, it was also sadistic. They stripped off most of her clothes and groped her, squeezing and joking about a woman’s sec
ret places. Genba writhed helplessly in his chains, turning his wrists and ankles bloody. Ohiro bore it silently, but she wept.
Then they marched them away, past the crowd of silent watchers. Ohiro still half-naked, and Genba bloody and glowering. As they passed the others, the sergeant said, “We’ll come back for you thieving hussies later.”
Saburo Dismissed
“So Minamoto Masaie was in the capital when his daughter died. Good work, Tora.”
Tora sat across from his master and grinned. “Thanks, sir. It was nothing. His cook makes the best fish soup I’ve ever tasted.” He added with a chuckle, “I’m afraid she had plans for me. I had to tell her I was married and a father. That seemed to discourage her a bit, but I’m not sure she’ll keep her hands off me next time.”
Akitada cast up his eyes. “No doubt you’ll manage,” he said dryly. “I think we may need to consult her again. Her fondness for the young woman makes her likely to be helpful. I wish we could tell her of our suspicions. What did you think of her attitude toward the father?”
“Well, being fond of the daughter, she hasn’t much good to say of the father. She blames him for what’s happened. And she really dislikes the brother. Says both were hateful and talked cruelly about Lady Masako after the scandal. Calling her names.”
“Really? I assume the cook thinks her death was suicide.”
“Yes. Says the father’s to blame. Berating his daughter for failing with the emperor is what caused her to jump off the cliff.”
Akitada grimaced. “She has a very loose tongue for a servant.”
“She loved the girl and is very angry.”
“Didn’t she know about the affair?”
“She knew, but she thinks her lady’s unhappiness made her a prey for the prince. She thinks His Majesty and Lord Masaie both are to blame. They didn’t protect her against overeager young men, it seems.” Tora smirked a little.
“The prince is my age,” Akitada said dryly. “Hardly an eager young man any longer.” Sitting here in his study and looking around at his father’s books and his own, and at the few scroll paintings he had gathered on his many journeys, he felt that most of his life was already over. Yes, he had once been eager. But also foolish, he reminded himself. The prince, it appeared had never grown up.
“Let’s call him a man in the prime of his life then.” Tora grinned at his master.
That got a chuckle and a headshake, but Akitada sobered quickly. “The woman isn’t far wrong, though. Lady Masako became a victim when she left her father’s house and entered the imperial apartments. There’s enough blame to go around. The prince is a notorious womanizer, as I know from a past incident. He probably forced his attentions on her. The father, on the other hand, played politics with his daughter. And His Majesty was openly uninterested in her. He is, of course, still very young and cannot be expected to handle such situations diplomatically. And where was the young woman’s mother? Why wasn’t she more supportive under the circumstances?”
“According to the cook, she’s a timid mouse. Come to think of it, it’s surprising that a man like Lord Masaie, who seems to keep his womenfolk in fear, should have spoiled his daughter with so much love and attention.”
Akitada snorted. “Love?”
“Oh, Cook says he doted on her. Preferred her to his son, taught her to ride and shoot like a man, then offered her to the emperor. I bet when he found out about her and the prince, he snapped like the string on a bow.”
“Well, I wouldn’t call that love, but you’re quite right about the probable reaction. But would he have killed his own child?”
Tora made a face. “Maybe. Yes, I think he might have. Thinking she’s dishonored his name or something. Or maybe he had her killed. Yes. What do you think?”
“I don’t know, Tora. I’d like to meet the man. It seems inconceivable that a father could do such a thing.” He thought of his own little girl and shook his head. He definitely did not want her to go to the palace when she grew up. Never. But then he was not Masaie. “But killing her didn’t really prevent the scandal.” He frowned, then added, “It’s very interesting that he has returned to the capital, bringing only soldiers and a cook.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure. It looks as though he was in a hurry and expected trouble. But it may mean nothing. Much as your cook blames her master, it’s too early to call anyone a killer.”
They did not miss Genba. Everyone assumed he was celebrating by spending the night with Ohiro.
Akitada was discussing the day’s chores with Saburo when he discovered that Genba had not spent the night in his room. Saburo thought he had probably celebrated by staying with Ohiro. Akitada was shaking his head at this when Tora showed in Superintendent Kobe.
Akitada saw at a glance that something unpleasant had occurred but thought of Kosehira. He told Saburo he could leave, but Kobe stopped him.
“It concerns Genba,” he said in a tight voice. “He’s in more trouble, and this time I frankly don’t know if we can extricate him. Saburo may be helpful.”
“Please sit down.” Akitada looked from one to the other. “I take it this concerns the murder of the brothel keeper?”
“Tokuzo. Yes. It appears someone stole the women’s contracts from his house the night after the murder. The thief may also have taken a great deal of gold. Today these contracts were returned to the women, who promptly started a street celebration that alerted the constables. When the police arrived and learned about the reason for the party, they looked for Genba and found him with the young woman he intends to marry. Given the fact that Genba had threatened the man the night before the murder for beating his girlfriend, the theft of the contracts is being laid at his door also. Genba clearly had a better motive than anyone else.”
Akitada noticed that Saburo had paled. The scars on his face stood out sharply. He met Akitada’s eyes and nodded his head slightly.
In view of Saburo’s involvement, Akitada was at a loss for a moment. He could hardly tell the superintendent about this. It would simply suggest that Genba was the instigator.
Kobe noted both his hesitation and Saburo’s guilty reaction. “I see,” he said heavily. “I had hoped you two would clear Genba and the girl.”
Akitada said quickly, “We have information that someone else visited the brothel last night. In fact, Saburo was attacked by this person. I think it must have been the thief.”
“Really?” Kobe looked pained. “Surely you can do better than that. What were you doing there, Saburo?”
“I went to have another look at the place, sir. I thought I might be able to find out what happened.” He paused and gave Kobe one of his horrible grimaces that passed for a smile. “We’re a household of men curious about murders.”
Kobe scowled at him. “Don’t make stupid jokes. Why would you do such a thing in the middle of the night?”
Saburo wiped the smile off his face. “Nighttime is the best time for thinking about a problem, I find. And I think best by looking at a place. At night there are no distractions.” He glanced at Akitada. “Perhaps I should have mentioned something I saw before I was attacked.”
Kobe was clearly getting angry. “What?”
“Two people came out of the brothel. A man and an old woman. They had a key and locked up after themselves.”
“If they had a key, they weren’t thieves.”
“Perhaps or perhaps not. I thought it interesting that the man carried a large bag. It looked heavy and clinked. Sounded like coins to me.”
Kobe looked at him. “It sounds like Tokuzo’s brother and mother,” he said slowly. “Both claim that the thief who stole the contracts also took Tokuzo’s gold.”
Saburo shook his head. “Sadly, people will tell lies. If they say the gold has been stolen, they’ll escape the tax collector.”
Kobe stood up abruptly. “There’s nothing to be gained here,” he growled. “I suggest you leave Genba’s case to the courts. Now you will excuse me. If I stay an
y longer, I might find myself arresting your entire household.” He turned and made for the door.
Akitada tried to catch up. “Wait, Kobe,” he called out. “There must be something that can be done.”
But Kobe merely grunted and walked faster. Akitada followed him to the veranda where he stopped and looked after the superintendent as he strode toward the gate. His figure was rigid, and his every step looked angry.
Thoroughly shaken by the scene, Akitada returned to his room. Saburo fell to his knees and knocked his head on the floor. “I’m sorry, sir,” he muttered. “Please forgive me. I should’ve told you.”
“Sit up,” snapped Akitada. “Seimei never behaved in that groveling fashion.”
Saburo sat up. He looked ashen but said nothing.
“I take it you stole those contracts?”
Saburo hesitated. “Yes, but I didn’t take the gold. That was taken away by Tokuzo’s brother.”
“It makes no difference. I will not have a common thief in my household.”
Saburo’s face worked horribly. He started knocking his head on the floor again.
Akitada roared, “Stop that. What in all the devils’ names, possessed you to steal those contracts?”
“I tried to help Genba and Ohiro, sir. Genba is a good man. He was kind to me. And those women had a terrible life. That monster raped and beat them.”
Akitada felt reproved for his anger. Saburo, who had found so little kindness in his life, had felt gratitude for Genba’s kindness. Perversely, the notion that he could have been too harsh made him lash out again.
“It’s not a question of motive,” he snapped. “It’s a question of breaking the law. When you serve in the household of someone who represents it, such behavior cannot be tolerated. You heard the superintendent just now. He was my friend and trusted me until this happened. Now he thinks me implicated in your law-breaking.”
Saburo bowed his head. “Yes. I didn’t think of that. I’m truly sorry. I’ll leave if you wish.”
A brief silence fell.
Akitada sighed deeply. “I regret this, Saburo, but it’s clear that your background simply makes you unfit for my service. Your nightly excursions will get you into some other trouble sooner or later. So perhaps it will be best for all of us if you found employment elsewhere.”
