by I. J. Parker
When her husband had departed, Akiko asked, “Are you up to talking about Lady Ogata?”
He felt surprisingly tolerant of Akiko. Perhaps he had been too hard on her. His sister, for all her interest in high society, was both intelligent and supportive. “Why not?” he said. “Though I haven’t really thought about her at all and I still tire easily.” This last was true, but he mentioned it mainly because it was a perfect excuse for getting rid of her.
“You recall our last conversation?” she asked, giving him an anxious look
“Yes. At your house, and you were on your way to court in a stunning robe.”
She smiled and touched his cheek. “Thank you, Akitada. It was stunning, wasn’t it? I attended the empress that day. Her Majesty looks a good deal thinner since the birth of the child. And much older.” She shook her head.
The empress was several years older than the young emperor, who had initially taken no interest in bedding her. Akiko went on to say that there was already gossip that His Majesty had turned elsewhere, having done his duty.
Akitada, always impatient with court gossip, interrupted her. “You were going to ask them about Lady Ogata.”
She frowned. “You see? You pay no attention to important news. When an emperor discards one female for another, he can set the entire government on its ears. However, I did pick up one piece of interesting gossip and confirmed everything we had found out so far. Secretary Soga’s daughter Sadako married Minamoto Masakane and disappeared from court at the time of his arrest. Until then, she’d been serving as one of the emperor’s handmaidens, having been chosen for the post after the gosechi dancing. What do you think of that?”
“Are you suggesting that His Majesty was enamored of her, and that this is what caused Masakane to strike him?”
She smiled and nodded. “Ah, you have paid attention. Well, it’s likely that Masakane objected to his new wife finding favor in His Majesty’s eyes.”
Akitada snapped, “That is utterly repulsive. Even emperors should respect other men’s wives.”
Akiko laughed.
“You cannot be suggesting the emperor himself is behind her murder?” her brother protested. “That she was killed because she was an embarrassment?”
“Of course not. Don’t be silly. But if her father had known that the emperor was interested, he could have seen to it that her husband disappeared.”
“Indeed! And so he did!”
Akiko stared at her brother. “The trouble is the story of that attack wasn’t trumped up as a reason to send Masakane into exile. There were witnesses. It really happened.”
Akitada sighed. “You’re right. There was that nun’s robe among her clothes. I thought she had kept it for a pilgrimage, but it seems more likely that Lady Ogata, or Lady Sadako, to use her own name, probably did become a nun when her husband was convicted. It would have been customary and what her father would have wished. But it doesn’t explain the rest of it. Why did she leave the nunnery to live in a shack beside the river?”
“Perhaps she became deranged. From all accounts she loved Masakane madly.”
“Hmm. She didn’t sound deranged from what others said about her. The nun spoke of her deep faith, and Genshin suggested the same thing.”
“Two people who have taken their vows.”
Akitada sighed. “I don’t know how to explain it. And I can’t think. I’m too tired.”
Akiko’s face softened. “Then rest, brother. Maybe I can find out. We’ll solve the mystery tomorrow.” She embraced him and was gone.
Akitada smiled—there were advantages to being wounded—and fell asleep.
32
A Lotus Flower in the Mud
Akitada healed surprisingly fast after this, but he still spent a great deal of time resting and kept standing and walking to the barest minimum. A number of physicians made their appearance, inspected the wounds, and listened to explanations. Most seemed to think his lordship’s survival was due to a miracle, but they agreed that he seemed likely to survive if he did not move too much.
In the end, there was only one doctor left. He was a somewhat rough-looking individual, a warrior in the east in his younger years, and blunt in his speech to the point of rudeness. He stared at the scars a long time, then probed with his fingers, and finally said, “Well, you were lucky.”
Akitada liked him for his plain speech, but he was a little surprised. “Lucky? Surely not. I nearly died.”
“Lucky that only one knife thrust passed through the rib cage. That one fortunately did no serious damage. The other slipped off the shoulder blade and was deflected into the muscles for your arm. And that’s not your sword arm, I think. Lucky again.”
Somewhat irritated that his sufferings were being dismissed as rather minor complaints, Akitada said, “I lost a great deal of blood.”
“Yes,” said the physician, “but no doubt you had some to spare. In any case, you have no need of me. You should get up and start moving about or you’ll end up a cripple from laziness.”
Handing him his fee, Akitada said, “You don’t have much of a bedside manner, you know.”
The other man snorted and picked up his medicine case. “No time for it. I have patients waiting.” And with that he left.
Akitada fell back on his bedding and started to laugh. It hurt, but he felt a great deal better already. It struck him that this man had experience with wounds and was most likely right. He should get up and be about his business.
*
The next day turned out to be rather busy because of visitors. Nakatoshi was the first to arrive. He was overjoyed to find Akitada dressed and sitting up. They shared a cup of wine, and Akitada regaled his friend with the tale of the doctor’s visit.
They laughed together, but Nakatoshi said, “You mustn’t overdo it, you know. People have been known to get up too early only to collapse again.”
Akitada, who had been gritting his teeth against stabs of pain from his back and shoulder, nodded. “I promise to rest frequently, but your visit gives me joy.” He paused. “My family and my friends have given me back my life by their devotion. I have been blessed.”
Nakatoshi was visibly moved and touched Akitada’s hand. “I have some reassuring news,” he said. “In view of your having been at death’s door, several of the most powerful Fujiwaras have been getting nervous. They’ve had prayers said for you in the shrine to your ancestor, and they have cancelled the investigation into your conduct.”
Akitada made a face. “I suppose I should be grateful, but nothing less than an apology and acknowledgment of my service in Kyushu will make me forgive them.”
“I know. It made me angry too, but we must think of the future now that you’re with us again.”
Nakatoshi left soon after to make room for Akitada’s brother-in-law. He brought the same news and a message from Akiko that she hoped soon to have more information about Lady Ogata.
This did not, however, materialize. Lady Akiko was more frustrated than Akitada, who thought of the crane pavilion murder off and on, but without real interest. It seemed clear enough that Lady Ogata was Sadako, the daughter of Soga Ietada and wife of Minamoto Masakane. Her death must be connected to her past. Masakane’s rash act of slapping an emperor had affected not only the young man but also his wife and the people around her.
His next visitor was Fujiwara Kaneie. He came to report with great satisfaction on a change of heart by the grand minister.
“I’m overjoyed to see you up and around,” he said, after congratulating Akitada on having escaped official censure. “My only regret is that I’m still stuck with that infernal Sakanoue who has been acting as if I didn’t exist. In fact, I’ve had to file a complaint against him. He had the nerve to sign some important papers without consulting me.”
Akitada smiled. “I, too, regret that you’re stuck with him.”
“I wish there were some way to get rid of him, but I have thoroughly irritated my powerful cousins by my repeated protestati
ons.”
“I think you have done so on my account, sir. I’m very grateful for your support and friendship.”
Kaneie blushed. “Not at all, my dear Akitada. I’m in your debt. All I know about the law I learned from you.” He sighed. “It’s all been so unfair!”
“Well, I seem to have been forgiven at any rate.”
On this happier note, Kaneie chatted a little about life at the ministry and then took his leave.
Akitada still spent much time resting. Pain radiated over his entire back if he was sitting or standing for any amount of time, and his left arm hurt down to the fingertips every time he moved it. He was also easily tired, but sleep escaped him. Sometimes, as he lay there, waiting for the pain to subside and sleep to come, he thought of the lady of the crane pavilion. Now that they knew her story, they should be able to put a name to her killer.
He wondered if perhaps Lady Sadako’s father had not really rejected her. But if so, why had she left the nunnery and taken up life beside the Kamo River, living on alms? And why had she later hidden herself away in the Takashina mansion?
Genshin knew her past but protected her secret. Unlike the nun Seikan, Genshin had not questioned her suicide. But both the nun and he had spoken of Sadako as being happy. Genshin had ascribed her contentment to her faith in Buddha. It did not make sense. But since he found no answer, Akitada usually fell asleep.
One day, there was a pleasant surprise. A messenger arrived with a heavy package containing ten gold bars and a bag of silver coins. The Minister of the Right had released Akitada’s accumulated salary for the past six months, plus a rather generous additional payment to cover expenses he had incurred in travelling to Kyushu and furnishing the tribunal there. The money was very welcome, and Akitada spent the day with Saburo, organizing the Sugawara accounts and ordering much needed supplies.
“Saburo,” he said, looking at the neat figures in his account book, “we can afford a tutor for the children. What about that poor schoolmaster of yours?”
Saburo clapped his hands. “Oh, thank you, sir! Tora and I have taken them a bit of money and some food, but they’re still in dire straits. May I go tell them?”
“Yes, but make sure he understands that he comes on trial.”
The schoolmaster came, nearly speechless with hope. Akitada probed his background with some questions, and being satisfied, introduced him to the children. The arrangement proved satisfactory, and Kobe’s tutor returned to his former duties with a present.
In time the pain in Akitada’s back lessened. But about that time, Tora brought some shocking news. “Sir, the superintendent has been dismissed from office.”
“What?”
“They say it was over the case of the blind shampoo girl. The judge filed a complaint.”
Akitada did not know what to say. So it had happened after all. Kobe had warned him that he was in danger. But he had risked his position anyway to do what Akitada had intended. He had interrupted the trial to save an innocent woman. Akitada did not doubt for a moment that Kobe had taken this step because he, Akitada, had been lying at death’s door and there was no one else to finish the job.
“I have incurred a great debt,” he said to Tora. “I wish I knew how to help Kobe. I want to see him. I wonder if I could manage to get on my horse.”
“Absolutely not, sir. You can’t leave the house yet.”
“Well, maybe a chair could be called? Where is Kobe? At his home?”
“I think so. But sir, it’s too soon. Do you want me to take a message?”
In the end, Akitada wrote a letter and Tora delivered it himself. An hour later, Kobe arrived at the Sugawara house.
He looked a little anxious when he entered Akitada’s room. More shocking was the fact that he was no longer in his impressive crimson uniform but wore an ordinary gray silk robe and a small black hat. He could have been any low-level clerk bustling about in one of the many administrative halls at the beck and call of every nobleman and guards officer. The change in clothing diminished him; he looked smaller, older, and less distinguished.
Akitada managed a smile as he gestured to a cushion. “Forgive me for not rising. I’m afraid it still hurts too much to get to my feet and then sit back down.
Kobe sat and smiled back. “I’m very glad to see you’re so much better than I’d been led to believe. Should you be up already?”
“Yes. Besides I’m impatient to catch up on what I’ve missed.” He paused to give Kobe a searching look. “Tora told me your bad news. I’m deeply sorry and very angry that they’ve treated you this way.”
Kobe’s mouth twisted. “Karma and shadows follow a man everywhere. You know that well enough.”
“My fortune seems to have improved. I seem to have been forgiven, and today they sent me my pay. I feel all the more responsible for what happened to you.”
Kobe looked astonished. “Why? I came to my senses almost too late. In fact, if I’d acted sooner, you wouldn’t have been attacked. So don’t talk to me of responsibility.”
“I hear you arrested Kanemoto and his woman.”
“Yes, and they couldn’t wait to heap accusations on one another. She told us about Kanemoto’s strangling of the gambler Hankei. Naturally, she claimed she was an innocent bystander. When I didn’t believe her, she threatened me with retaliation. It seems one of her clients holds a rather important position in the government. I ignored this and told Kanemoto what she had said. He retaliated by informing us that she had killed the moneylender Nakamura.”
“She owed Nakamura money?”
“Oh, yes. It seems Kanemoto refused to pay her debts and told her to take care of them herself, so she did. By killing the man! She told Nakamura that she would meet him at the bathhouse and buy back her IOUs. Instead she cut his throat and took the papers she had signed, letting Sachi take the blame for the murder.”
“That poor girl!” Akitada said, shaking his head. “She must have been terrified.”
Kobe said angrily, “Sachi had no business working there. The men are animals. Nakamura tried to rape her. He would have succeeded, too. The bathhouse owner forced her to accede to his wishes. She is well out of there.”
“Is she?” Akitada raised his brows, and Kobe flushed.
“What has become of her?” Akitada asked.
“She’s at my house for the present.”
“That was very kind of you.” Akitada smiled.
Kobe glanced at him. He was clearly embarrassed. “My first lady decided to forsake the world when she heard of my dismissal. My second lady isn’t going quite so far, but she blames me for ruining our children’s futures and keeps to herself. I’m alone these days.”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.” Akitada had always assumed Kobe’s household to be a happy one and was thunderstruck by these revelations.
“I’ve always envied you, Akitada. Lady Tamako was all that a wife could be. I was jealous of your happiness. You never wanted another woman, having all that a man needs in this one. Forgive me! I know it must pain you to think of it.”
Akitada shook his head. “You are right about us, though there were some years—.” He paused.
Kobe brushed a hand over his face. “Well, it made me see women differently. And then there was Sachi, this poor blind girl who wanted so little from life and had nothing. It occurred to me … but it’s too soon to speak of it. Forgive me.”
Akitada understood. Kobe had found his lotus flower in the mud and had fallen in love. It shocked him that a man of Kobe’s background would consider living with a bathhouse attendant. And a blind one at that.
He changed the subject. “Did you find evidence against the courtesan Phoenix apart from what Kanemoto told you?”
Kobe nodded. “Nakamura kept meticulous accounts of all his loan transactions. We found some of them hidden in an empty jar in his kitchen. It seems he didn’t trust his partner Saito or his children. Phoenix owed the equivalent of thirty bars of gold. It had accumulated over the years as she
spent on her wardrobe.”
“Dear heaven! Thirty bars of gold for gowns? It’s unbelievable.”
“Murders have been committed for far less. By the way, Sachi said she smelled her. She has a very good nose. She smelled perfume and also a faint whiff of blood when she passed her in the corridor on her way back to Nakamura. The bathhouse owner testified that the Phoenix was there at the time of the murder. Saburo had already alerted us to the fact that some of the courtesans were hanging around the murder scene.”
“Well, I’m glad it’s over. Saburo got himself into trouble pursuing this case.”
Kobe smiled. “And so did you. Are you truly on the mend?”
“I think so. What will you do now?”
“Oh, I need the rest. I expect I’ll retire to the country. Life costs less there, and I have always wanted to do some hunting. I hope you and Tora will be my guests soon.”
*
Kobe’s dismissal upset Akitada a great deal. The superintendent had been facing the threat of replacement for a few years now. Still, the crisis had come over the trial of the blind girl. Akitada considered the fact that Phoenix had claimed to be under the protection of some great lord. It seemed odd, given what he knew of her, but it would explain why Sachi’s trial had been pushed forward after Saburo had started asking questions.
The morning following Kobe’s visit, he talked with Tora and Saburo about the case. They had followed events and knew that Kanemoto had confessed. Phoenix had persisted with her denials at first and suffered severe floggings. In the end, she had admitted killing Nakamura.
“The superintendent handled it perfectly,” Tora commented. “Something should be done about his dismissal when he was right all along. He said the Ministry of Justice was behind it. Can you find out why your former boss would do such a thing?”
Akitada was astonished. “It wasn’t Kaneie,” he said with conviction. “He would have told me. There must be some mistake.”
The outcome was that Akitada wrote Kaneie to ask what he knew about the situation. Kaneie came to see him, bringing with him some documents. It turned out that Sakanoue had ordered the trial to be moved up. And it had been Sakanoue again who had forwarded Judge Hirokane’s complaint about Kobe’s behavior. The cover letter objected in the strongest terms against Superintendent Kobe’s meddling again in affairs properly part of the Ministry of Justice. All of Sakanoue’s letters claimed to have been written on orders of Fujiwara Kaneie.
