by I. J. Parker
“What exactly is Munata’s relationship to the governor?” he asked.
“His is the most important district of the state. Governor Oga appointed him, and he is loyal to the governor. The Munatas have also been overseers of the Oga estates here. That’s why the governor stays at Munata’s country residence whenever he is here.”
This threw an interesting light on the division of power and the bonds of personal relationships. Akitada was becoming very curious about both men. “And you? How do you feel about them? I know they were your guests last night, but I assumed they were invited as a courtesy to me and to the governor. Perhaps you, too, have closer ties?”
Nakahara flushed. “You have an extraordinary way of accusing me of impropriety. Apparently you think that I’ve been plotting against my emperor, stealing government property, and aiding the pirates. Frankly, I resent your manner, sir. You’re an official visitor, carrying powers from the Minister of the Right, so I cannot very well bid you be gone, but if you find Munata’s manners wanting, what should I say about yours?” The director bristled with belligerence. It almost seemed as if each of his sparse hairs were trying to stand up. Akitada was tempted to laugh, but of course that would have made matters even worse, and he was in fact Nakahara’s guest. Besides, perhaps he should have controlled his temper better with both officials.
He sighed and said, “Calm down. Put yourself in my position. I was sent here to find out who is behind the pirate attacks. Within a day, my clerk disappears, and I’m lured into the slums of Kawajiri to be assassinated. It seems to me I’m no longer dealing with a minor leak of information, but with a conspiracy which may include everyone who has any power in this state. And you have been sitting at the very center of this web, pretending not to know what is going on. How can I possibly trust you, or believe anything you tell me?”
Nakahara did not answer. He had turned his head away.
Akitada got up with a grunt of impatience. “I have to go now to find the foolish young man who thought he could solve this case on his own. May your conscience forgive you if I find him dead.”
*
When he stepped from the boat in Kawajiri harbor, a contingent of police in their red coats was assembling. In the brilliant sunlight reflected by the sea, they appeared to be bathed in blood. Akitada pictured the torn corpse of young Sadenari and shuddered.
The commander, a grey-haired Lieutenant Saeki, who looked like an ex-military man, was mounted, and a second horse was waiting.
Akitada introduced himself, and swung himself into the saddle. They set off at a moderate trot, the policemen jogging along behind them. Apparently the lieutenant had been given instructions. He led the way to the dead end of the alleyway where Akitada had encountered the two thugs.
There was no sign that the fight had taken place. The dirt was scuffed about, and his coins and the amulet were gone. There were also no blood stains or bodies. Someone had cleaned up, and if there had been corpses or wounded men here, they had been moved. He would have liked proof of the attack, but then he would be hard pressed to explain how he had wounded or killed two armed men without a weapon of his own.
Akitada did not like losing his money, but he had additional funds in his baggage and could send for more. What troubled him more was the loss of the amulet. It felt as if another veil had been drawn across the death of the young Korean girl. He said nothing about all this to the police, however.
On the command of Lieutenant Saeki, the men spread out and searched. They found nothing that pointed to the attackers, but it appeared that a narrow footpath wound through the shrubbery to a breach in the wall where the plaster and mud had crumbled, leaving a mound of rubble and easy passage to the back of the Hostel of the Flying Cranes.
“So,” said the lieutenant, “the criminals came from there. Not surprising. Let’s take a look.”
They left the horses with one of the constables and climbed over the pile of rubble. On the other side, they found a storage shed in the back of the hostel. Given the long and imposing roofline of the building, the lower level looked pathetic. The boards were rotting away in places, and doorways and windows were covered with torn and dirty fabric. Part of the shed was a makeshift kitchen. A nasty stench came from barrels of refuse.
Lieutenant Saeki gave orders for some of his men to station themselves at the doors and windows. Then he and Akitada, accompanied by four of his burliest constables, walked around the corner to the front door.
This stood invitingly open, and they marched in, the police in front and Akitada trailing behind.
The interior was primitive and simple. The ground floor was earth, long since compacted and turned a shiny black from many feet, bare or sandaled. Huge timbers rose from the floor to support the roof. Here and there, a second level had been made by linking crossbeams and covering them with boards. Simple ladders reached up to those sleeping lofts. Below, there were few room dividers. Most spaces were open and served many guests. Dirty covers lay rolled up against walls or were stacked up in convenient piles along with headrests. A few simple sea chests probably held the belongings of current guests. The smell of dirt, sweat, and unwashed bodies lingered. In one corner, a man snored rhythmically.
From the back came the sound of voices, the clacking dice, and clinking of coins. Gambling was illegal, and the policemen smiled with anticipation. Grasping their clubs and metal prongs more firmly, they advanced silently.
Suddenly there was sharp whistling sound from the corner where the snoring had stopped abruptly. The policemen cursed and rushed forward. Akitada turned to look at the sleeper. He was sitting up, a grin on his bearded face. He winked at Akitada, who shook his head and hurried after the police.
The constables had gathered in a circle around five middle-aged men who sat on the floor, trying to look innocent. There was no sign of dice or money anywhere. The oldest of them, a stoop-shouldered fellow with a ragged gray beard and long hair tied up in a piece of black cloth blustered, “What’s this? I run a respectable establishment here.”
That raised some appreciative murmurs from his companions and caused one of the constables to kick him in the side.
The lieutenant said, “Up, scum. Bow to your betters.”
The man turned stubborn. He took his time getting to his feet, then searched their faces one by one. “My betters? I don’t see them,” he said defiantly. “You’ve got no right, busting in on a private citizen entertaining his friends.”
The constable retracted his foot again, but Akitada said sharply, “Leave him be!” He stepped closer. They had had no time to hide their gambling pieces properly. If the policemen took it into their heads to search them, they could all be arrested. In that case, they would certainly not part with any information. He said to the bearded man, “I’m sorry for the interruption, but we’re searching for a young friend of mine. He was said to have come here earlier today. I’m very worried, because there is a rumor that someone was murdered behind your hostel. If any of you men have information to give me, speak up and we’ll be off.”
They looked at each other, suddenly dead serious.
The bearded man cleared his throat. “At least someone has some manners,” he said, making Akitada a small bow. “I’m Kunimitsu. I’m in charge here. This relative of yours, was he a young kid, acting important?”
“That sounds like him. His name is Sadenari. He’s a stranger in Naniwa and thinks he can handle himself in any situation.”
Kunimitsu snorted. “Wet behind his ears like a newborn kitten, if you ask me. He didn’t think twice about walking in and asking questions. We get some rough customers here. As to what happened to him, I can’t say, but he was alive and well when he left here. I got busy collecting from the crew of the Black Dragon before they rushed off to their ship. When I remembered him, he’d gone.” He glanced at his companions. “Any of you see him leave?”
They shook their heads in unison. Akitada decided that they were neighbors rather than guests of the hostel.
They had the look of small tradesmen and were probably fairly honest. None seemed the type to take violent action, but one man was a tall, skinny fellow with sharp features and shifty eyes.
“The Black Dragon?” Akitada asked.
Saeki said, “A large ship from Kyushu. It arrived two days ago, unloaded its cargo and left again this morning.”
“It has left?” This was worrisome. What if Sadenari had been abducted and was now somewhere on the Inland Sea?
Akitada thanked Kunimitsu, adding, “If you should hear anything, will you let me know? I’m staying in Naniwa. You can reach me at the foreign trade office. There’s a piece of gold in it for you.” Turning to the lieutenant, he said, “Come. We must look elsewhere.”
Lieutenant Saeki cast a longing look around. “We should search the place. He runs a gambling den and is a money lender on the side. I bet we’d find dice and money.”
This set his constables to grumbling. No doubt they had hoped to pocket the haul.
Akitada said firmly, “We have no time for that now. You can make your raid another time.”
He was still afraid that a search might turn up the bodies of his attackers. The Hostel of the Flying Cranes was a likely shelter for thieves and robbers. He wanted to explore it a little more without the heavy-handed police along and told Saeki, “Have your men question the people who live on this street if anyone saw Sadenari leave, if he was alone, and which way he was going.”
Lieutenant Saeki rounded up his constables. No one had tried to leave the hostel by the back way. He gave his instructions and took them on their house-to-house visits.
Akitada watched them for a while, then went back into the hostel. As before, the “sleeper” gave his sharp whistle, and as before all the dice had disappeared, and the men sat with Kunimitsu, acting innocent. It would have been amusing, but Sadenari’s fate was beginning to hang on Akitada like some monstrous burden of guilt.
“Sorry for the interruption,” he said. “I didn’t want to ask my questions while the police were here in case they started searching the premises. I didn’t think you would welcome that. Earlier this day I ran into two robbers on the other side of the wall behind the hostel. One was tall and muscular, the other slim. They carried unusually long knives and came from the footpath that passes through your broken wall. I’m afraid they got hurt in the encounter. Have you seen any wounded men pass by here?”
They stared at him and looked at each other, then shook their heads. Kunimitsu said cautiously, “A lot of people take that shortcut. And people get into fights.” He paused. “Was it you who wounded them?”
“Never mind what happened. Do I take it that you know nothing of these two?”
Kunimitsu frowned. “As I said, this is a legal establishment. I don’t allow weapons here. You’ll have to look elsewhere for your robbers.”
It had been a long shot and Kunimitsu’s answer might or might not be true. Akitada was almost certain that the man knew the two thugs, though he might not have knowledge of the attack or had a hand in getting them away. He looked at Kunimitsu’s companions. All but one looked back at him with blank faces. The one who was preoccupied with picking a scab on one of his feet, was the small one with the sharp features of a weasel.
Akitada missed Tora more than ever and decided that he would send for him. Experience had taught him painful lessons about meddling in the affairs of violent men. The last time he had taken matters into his own hands, he had angered a gang in the capital. They had buried him alive.
A shout outside made up his mind for him. With a nod to Kunimitsu, he hurried from the hostel.
Lieutenant Saeki stood in the street, looking around. When he saw Akitada leave the hostel, he came quickly.
“Thank heaven,” he said, adding sternly, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sir. It’s not safe for you to go about alone. Especially not after what happened to you earlier.”
The man was right, but the remark chafed. Akitada hated being thought of as a helpless official. He snapped, “Never mind that. Have you found out anything?”
The lieutenant looked offended, but he nodded. “An old crone in the house at the end of the street claims she saw something.”
Chapter Nine
The Black Dragon
The old one received them, enthroned on a barrel in front of her tiny home. She was surrounded by a group of women and children, their eyes wide with curiosity. Dressed in a plain brown cotton dress and barefoot, she had thrown a piece of old quilted bedding around her shoulders and from the distance, the colorful fabric looked a little like the costly, embroidered Chinese jackets worn by highborn ladies at court. Her long white hair hung loose and added to the aristocratic impression.
She watched them as they walked toward her and maintained a noble reserve when they arrived, but her eyes were quick and bright with interest.
Lieutenant Saeki addressed her. “Tell this gentleman what you told me, auntie.”
She studied Akitada’s tall figure in a leisurely fashion. He had the odd fancy that she searched for outward signs of depravity in his face, proof of physical weakness in his body, and bad taste in his clothes. When he cleared his throat, her eyes came back to his face, and she cackled.
He said, “Please, grandmother, if you have any news of the young man I lost, tell me. He is my responsibility. I must account for his welfare to his parents.”
She nodded. “Good! Parents should take care of their children. Children should take care of their parents. The Ancient One teaches this.” Her voice was high and strident, and she spoke in a singsong rhythm.
He said, “I also admire Master Kung-fu-tse. I see you are a wise woman.”
She pursed her lips. “He didn’t have any liking for women, the Ancient One.”
“Possibly his only mistake,” said Akitada politely.
He must have passed the test, for she decided to answer his question. “I sit here most days. I like to watch the sailor boys come and go.” She cackled again. “Such bodies! Young. Strong. Such muscles. Give me a muscular man any day. They make the best lovers because they don’t get tired.”
The women around her squealed and giggled. One of them covered her face and said, “Mother, please don’t say such things.”
The old one opened a toothless mouth and burst into more cackling laughter. “Stupid girl,” she told her daughter. “You with that weakling of a husband, what do you know?” She looked Akitada up and down again. “You’re tall for one of the good people. Do you please your wives in bed?”
Akitada kept a straight face. He had only one wife, who had ideas of her own on the subject. “As often as I possibly can.”
“Hehehe!” She slapped her thighs, then got serious again. “Well, I was sitting here when the boys from the Black Dragon passed by. Time for them to go home to Kyushu. I know them all. We pass comments as they walk by.” She grinned. “They like to show off to the women, even old ones like me. Those thighs and buttocks!” Her hands made grasping motions and she smacked her lips. “Sailors use those legs and hindquarters extra hard on a ship.” She winked at Akitada. “And elsewhere, too.”
The women covered their mouths and giggled again.
The old woman shot them a glance. “You know what I mean, don’t you girls? Hehehe. So long as your husbands are at work, what do they know?” Her daughter pulled her sleeve and muttered, “Please, Mother!”
Lieutenant Saeki was getting impatient. “Never mind all that. Get on with what you saw.”
The old woman glared at him. “Thighs and buttocks! That’s what counts in a man,” she said firmly, giving the lieutenant’s a disparaging glance. But she relented and turned back to Akitada. “There was a youngster with them. A city boy, wearing a prissy robe and hat, like you.” She grinned. “Couldn’t see his thighs and buttocks, but he was young and tall and eager. The kind of boy a woman can teach a thing or two.”
It must have been Sadenari. Akitada asked the lieutenant, “Where is the Black Dragon now?
”
“It left hours ago.”
Akitada thanked the old woman, and took Saeki aside. “We must go after that ship. I believe my clerk was tricked and is on board.”
Saeki shook his head. “Can’t be done, sir. If he’s really on the Black Dragon, and there’s no proof of that, he’s on his way to Kyushu. You can’t catch that ship. It’s one of the fastest. And on its homeward journey, it’ll be even faster.”
Akitada bit his lip. What if the Black Dragon was run by pirates? Otherwise, surely they would have brought Sadenari back. He said, “Perhaps Watamaro could help us.”
Saeki grinned. “The Black Dragon’s not a pirate ship. It belongs to Watamaro, sir.”
*
Akitada and the lieutenant stopped at the Kawajiri harbor to ask if a young man of Sadenari’s description had been seen climbing into a boat with some sailors returning to the Black Dragon. They found no witnesses, perhaps because the ship was already in the channel and on the point of departure.
It was after dark before he reached Naniwa again. Although he was tired and his arm throbbed again, he went straight to Nakahara’s office. He almost did not recognize the room. Someone had removed the disordered piles of confiscated goods, and the space was now large, spare, and businesslike. All the empty space and the flickering light of candles and oil lamps emphasized the impression that he was walking into a court session. Governor Oga, Nakahara, and Munata awaited him, seated side by side like judges of the underworld awaiting the souls of wrongdoers.
Oga, his corpulence compressed in a stiff brown brocade robe and his double chins nearly strangled by the collar, sat in the middle and addressed him coldly and without preamble.
“Finally! Whatever the details and circumstances of your assignment, sir, it seems to me that it should have been handled differently. I don’t hold with secretiveness and prevarication. You should have reported to me when you first arrived here.”
