by I. J. Parker
Reality was otherwise: Ozuru’s family was large and very poor. Theirs was the smallest of the houses and was in poor repair. The thatched roof had rotted in places and collapsed inward so that the rain had gotten in and driven the family into one corner where the wooden floor was still sound and where they lived together behind ragged straw mats suspended from ropes stretched between roof supports.
The oldest male was the grandfather. He was too old to do any work. Three boys were still young, but there were seven or eight females of all ages. They apparently did most of the work. Tora guessed the children’s father had died, leaving his elderly parents and his wife to cope as best they could. It explained why Ozuru had been sold to Tokuzo. Poverty forced people to sell their daughters into prostitution and their sons into the army. He came from the same background and understood.
His questions about Ozuru met with surprise. Yes, their poor Iku—Ozuru had been her professional name—had died. It had been her karma. She had died because she had done something bad in a previous life. A great pity, for the girl had done well for herself in this one. She’d come for a visit, dressed in fine clothes, and brought them money. Those had been good days, but it had pleased the gods and Ozuru’s karma to make her fall and break her neck. A great pity.
Tora left them some money and turned homeward. The trip had been a waste of time. Ozuru’s people clearly held no grudge. Rather the reverse. Somehow, Tokuzo, Ozuru, and their own wishful thinking had left them with the impression their daughter had lived a life of pleasure and plenty. They had quickly sold two more girls, but that money was gone already, and the two girls had not come back with gifts.
Feeling glum, Tora hoped his master had thought of other possibilities. There must be something he could do. Somewhere there was a man who had hated Tokuzo enough to kill him.
To his disappointment, the master had not yet returned from a visit to the prince’s villa. As it was well past sunset and quite dark outside, this was a little unusual. Tora turned his tired horse over to the boy he had hired to fill in in Genba’s absence. The kid was slow and spoke with a stutter, but he knew enough to feed and water the horses and clean the stable.
Then he went to see Lady Tamako. She seemed calm enough about the master’s absence. Tora assumed the trip to the villa must have been more interesting than his own. He settled down to a good meal with his family and an enjoyable bedtime with Hanae.
Early the next morning, he stepped out into the yard to a glorious blue sky and birdsong and washed at the well. When he turned, he noticed something white lying among some weeds near the outer wall. He would have to speak to the boy about keeping the place clean. It was a large stone with some paper attached to it. He went to inspect it and found the paper was folded and had been tied to the rock with twisted hemp twine.
Someone must have tossed the rock over the wall. Since he had returned after dark the day before, it was not at all clear when the missive had arrived. He hesitated a moment, then untied the paper to read it. The message was brief so he could make out its meaning quite well.
Those who meddle in the affairs of His Majesty will die.
He saw neither signature nor superscription, but assumed it was meant for the master and took it into the main house. His master, however, was not in his study. The room was dark and empty.
Frowning, Tora went next to her ladyship’s quarters where her maid was just throwing open the shutters.
“Hope you slept well, Sumiko,” Tora called out. “Is the master inside?”
“No. Did you look in his room?”
“He’s not there. Didn’t he come home last night?”
They stared at each other in dismay, then the maid turned and ran inside. A moment later, her ladyship appeared, pulling her robe hastily about her.
“What is it, Tora? Has my husband not returned?”
“I don’t think so, my lady. Did you expect him last evening?”
“Yes. Something is wrong, I think. He would have sent a message.” She frowned.
Tora hid the message behind his back and gulped down his fear. “I think I’d better saddle the horse and go looking for him,” he said.
She clutched the robe to her. “Yes, you’d better, though it’s probably nothing. Perhaps the horse went lame.” She paused, then added, “Take a sword, Tora.”
Tora’s eyes widened as he digested that.
She saw his surprise. “He may have made enemies trying to clear the prince. Perhaps he ran into someone like that.”
That sealed it.
Tora brought forth the paper and extended it to her. “I’m sorry, my lady. I just found this inside the wall. Tied to a stone.”
She read the message, bit her lip, and said, “If someone left this overnight, it may not have anything to do with his being late. Most likely it’s just an empty threat.”
Neither believed this.
Tora said, “They may have left it before last night. I wasn’t here yesterday and got home after dark. And it was hidden behind some weeds.”
“I see.” She thought a moment. “I think I must go call on Superintendant Kobe. But you’d better be on your way. And be careful. Do you know where the villa is?”
“I think, so.” Tora bowed and left for the stable at a run.
Tamako returned to her room and dressed swiftly, while Sumiko sent the boy for a palanquin. Taking some money from Akitada’s chest, she got into the palanquin, telling the bearers to take her to police headquarters.
Her arrival there attracted a curious crowd. Highborn ladies were not expected to have business there. She stayed inside the palanquin and sent a message to Kobe.
Kobe emerged moments later, looking shocked. He bent to peer into the palanquin. “Lady Sugawara? I didn’t believe it when they told me. Has something happened?”
“Yes, Superintendant. Forgive this unceremonious visit, but I didn’t know what else to do. Akitada has disappeared, and I’m afraid something may have happened to him. I’ve sent Tora after him and that meant I had to come here myself. We are a household of women and children now.” She added the last rather pointedly.
He was not pleased. “What exactly do you mean, he has disappeared?” he demanded.
His tone shocked her, though she should have expected it. Suddenly she felt both helpless and angry. Tears rose to her eyes and spilled over. She brushed them away and explained. “Akitada left yesterday early in the day to visit the prince’s villa in the mountains. He expected to return the same day. But he hasn’t come home, and Tora found this in our courtyard.” She passed the crumpled note out of the palanquin with trembling fingers.
Kobe, whose face had turned red with embarrassment at her tears, read it. He said, “I see. I’ll send some of my men up there. The old couple may know something. Don’t worry. It’s probably nothing. He may have extended his excursion. Or perhaps his horse has gone lame. It’s a rough track.”
“He would never delay his return without telling me,” she said thickly, wiping more tears away with her hands, and hating the fact she could not control them.
Kobe beckoned over an older policeman. “See to it that Lady Sugawara has an escort home and then station five men at her house for protection.” He turned back to Tamako. “Please calm yourself. I’ll do everything I can to bring your husband back.” He cleared his throat and tried to look stern. “Really, he ought not to put you to such worries. What is he thinking of?”
She managed to say in a firmer voice, “You were his friend once and should know Akitada will always take risks to right an injustice. He told me about this case because he knew it might be politically dangerous. I support him in whatever he decides to do.”
Kobe looked away. “Yes, ahem. Well, you’d better go home now. We’ll see to it.” He gave a signal to her bearers who picked up the palanquin and trotted off.
Tora pushed his poor horse unmercifully. No more leisurely trotting like on the way to Yasaka village. No more pleasurable viewing of the countryside. He had
nearly worn out the beast when the road began to climb into the mountain and he had to slow down because of loose rocks on the path. He worried he might have taken a wrong turn. This poor track seemed unlike anything an imperial prince would travel, let alone one of the emperor’s women. Eventually he dismounted and led the horse. He had not seen a soul for miles and should have asked direction from the last peasant he had passed a long time ago.
When he reached a hut where an old man was sunning himself on the front steps, he was relieved. He walked over, calling out, “Greetings, grandfather. Is this the way to Prince Atsuhira’s villa?”
The old man smiled and bowed his head in greeting.
Or maybe he had nodded. One could not be sure. In any case, he was still smiling and blinking against the sun.
“I’m on the right path then?”
No answer.
Tora looked around. Perhaps there was someone else he could talk to. He tied his horse to a post and started around the hut. The old man took his stick, got up, and followed him. He moved slowly, swaying from side to side.
It was terrible getting old. Tora slowed to let him catch up. “Are you alone here, grandfather?” he asked, raising his voice in case the old-timer was deaf.
The old man, still smiling, shook his head. “Nope. Birds,” he croaked. “Deer. Badgers. Foxes.”
“But no people?”
“People?” said the old man dubiously. “A few.”
“What about the prince? Have you met him?”
This time he got what was clearly a nod. After a moment, it was followed by a shake of the head. Tora sighed. It was better to die young than to end up like this, old, weak, and crazy.
Then he heard the woman’s call.
The old man turned and started back. “The wife,” he said.
Thank heaven, thought Tora, unless she proves even more decrepit.
They found her standing beside Tora’s horse. When she saw him, she asked sharply, “Are you looking for someone?”
“As it happens, yes. My master, Lord Sugawara. He came up here yesterday, and hasn’t come home.”
“Amida!” She clutched his arm. “Come. Maybe you can do something. If it isn’t too late.” She pointed to his horse and started up the path, huffing and puffing as she hurried.
Tora, his heart heavy, untied his horse and caught up with her. “Where is he?”
“Fallen over the cliff,” she gasped and kept going.
Tora cursed, got on his horse and drove it uphill.
Those who meddle in the affairs of His Majesty will die.
The first thing he saw when he reached the plateau where the villa stood, was his master’s horse, still tied to its post.
He was consumed by a furious anger at those in power or wrangling to gain power. They thought nothing of getting rid of anyone who stood in their way. He swore he would make unending war on them, if they had harmed his master.
The old woman caught up and disappeared around the corner of the building. Tora left his horse and scrambled after her. Behind the villa, the mountain dropped off into space. Below lay the green and golden plain where many hundreds of roofs and pagodas spread all the way to rivers and the edge of the northern mountain range. He took in none of this. His eyes were on the edge, where the old woman stood looking down into nothingness.
She shouted, “Ho, down there? Can you hear me? Someone’s come for you.”
If matters had not been so desperate, Tora might have laughed that he was being announced like a messenger. As it was, he went and looked down. He saw nothing, just a steep decline of rocks and twisted pines and a few patches of grass.
“How far down is he?” he asked, despair gnawing at his belly.
“Don’t know. He could’ve fallen again during the night.”
Oh, gods!
“How do you know he’s down there?” Tora tested the edge and noticed a freshly broken section.
“I thought he’d left. I heard his horse on the path. Later I went up to see if he’d closed the shutters. He hadn’t. And there was his horse, so he couldn’t have left. I didn’t know what to do. Then I thought I heard someone calling. From just about there.” She pointed toward an outcropping that hid what was below. “I shouted down, but there was no answer. I left after a while. I thought I’d imagined it.”
All night!
He’d fallen and shouted for help and no one had come. And the old woman had done nothing.
Tora felt vomit rising in his throat and swallowed.
“He could’ve fallen again,” she suggested.
Tora wished her to the devil. The damned ghoul had been useless. He gauged the way down to the outcropping and saw some places where he might get enough hand- and foot-hold to climb down a ways. Starting downward gingerly, he let his feet seek for support as his hands grasped at likely shrubs and protruding rocks. It had rained overnight, and the rocks felt greasy with moisture.
The old woman watched him. “You’ll fall down the mountain, too. Better get back here.” She sounded anxious.
She was not nearly as nervous as Tora, whose boots kept slipping on the wet ground. Nevertheless, he moved slowly downward. A small crippled pine was strong enough to hold on to, and he mastered another long step. Soon he would be at the edge of the outcropping and able to see past it. But the next stretch was tricky. The more he felt around with his free foot, peering down, the shakier he felt and the more tenuous the next step became. It might just be feasible if he could reach that old root protruding from a crack, but he would have to let go with his other hand and trust the root would hold his weight. If it did not, then both he and the master were lost.
The old woman had fallen silent. Tora did not bother to see if she was still there. He thought of Hanae and Yuki. They deserved better than to have him die today by falling off a mountain. And the master might already be past saving. He reflected sadly that they had always deserved better than a husband and father who was forever looking for danger and excitement.
He let go and flung himself downward, catching the root which cracked ominously but held long enough to let him take another quick step to a small ledge.
Catching his breath, he looked down and gasped.
The master lay some twenty feet below him, prone on another ledge, one so narrow that his arm and one leg hung over the side. He was not moving. Tora was afraid to call out, because he might startle him into make a sudden move and tumble over the side. Below was a straight drop no man could survive.
But the continued stillness of the figure below might mean that rescue was already too late.
Tora looked back up and realized for the first time that he had no way of bringing up his master’s body. In fact, he did not know if he could climb back up to the top himself.
Akiko Investigates
Tamako was pacing. She was far more upset than at any time since the terrible illness had taken their son Yori. There were similarities, she thought. Both times she had had a premonition, a very strong conviction that disaster loomed, and that she must act to avert it. Only she did not know how any more now than she had then.
This time it was Akitada who might be taken from her. Perhaps he had already been taken. The possibility of having lost him was unbearable. For all that he had frequently irritated her in the past with his stubbornness, Tamako knew him to be a gentle and caring man who loved her. To her, he was everything, perhaps even more than the children, though the thought shamed her. If his duties and interests took him away too much and occupied his mind to the exclusion of his wife and family, then that was a man’s privilege. A woman lived for her husband and children. Oh, what would become of all of them?
Into her terrified imaginings burst her sister-in-law.
“Wait until I tell you,” she cried, eyes sparkling with excitement and her movements those of a young girl. “Where’s Akitada? Send for him. He must hear this!”
When Tamako made no move, her eyes sharpened. “You’ve been crying,” she said accusingly. “Yo
u look terrible. What’s the matter with you?”
The reprimand did nothing to steady Tamako. “Akitada’s not come home,” she wailed. “Something’s happened to him. Oh, Akiko, what shall I do?”
“What? Don’t be silly. Nothing’s happened to him. Nothing ever happens to Akitada, you know that. He gets into a bit of trouble and immediately gets back out. What do you mean, he hasn’t come home?”
Tamako explained with a shaking voice.
“Oh, is that all? You know very well that his horse may have gone lame and he decided to spend the night somewhere. Just hope he doesn’t have a girlfriend someplace.”
That was so ridiculous it made Tamako smile. “Not Akitada,” she said loyally.
“He’s a man,” Akiko said darkly.
Tamako shook her head. “No. I have this feeling. Something’s wrong. And he’s been working on this cursed case. He knew it was dangerous and asked me about it, but I told him he should go on with it.” Tears started flowing again.
Akiko went to the door and called for the maid.
Sumiko appeared, saw her weeping mistress, and cried, “What’s happened to the master?”
“Not you, too,” snapped Akiko. “Go make your mistress some soothing tea. And if you put honey and a little juice from an orange in it, you can bring enough for two.”
The maid disappeared, and Akiko made Tamako sit down and tell her where Akitada had gone and why. “Surely,” she said, “there’s nothing to be found after all those months and when the police have already investigated.”
“Perhaps not, but your brother was restless. So many things have gone badly lately. I thought he should have something to occupy him.”
