Three Tales of Love and Murder (Akitada Stories)

by I. J. Parker

  “I was working,” Akitada said.

  “You might have considered that my problem outweighed whatever it is you law clerks do all day long,” Koremori said. “You’re a great disappointment to your mother and me. At your age, Akemori was already a captain in the emperor’s personal guard.”

  He was probably right about the work a law clerk did, but Akitada was not about to agree. Koremori’s son had died protecting the emperor against a madman who had charged the imperial palanquin with a drawn sword. By comparison to Akemori, Akitada was a dismal failure in his eyes. He had this opinion in common with Akitada’s mother.

  “I wanted you to be here to make sure the police don’t gloss over this matter,” he continued when Akitada said nothing. “My assassin must be found. Frankly, this Kobe fellow struck me as a lazy official.”

  “Kobe is a hard-working and conscientious officer,” Akitada said. “You can safely leave the matter in his hands.” It was the truth, even though the captain had never missed an opportunity to be ungracious to Akitada.

  Koremori seemed to swell. “Are you refusing to help me?”

  Akitada bit his lip. “What makes you think someone is trying to kill you and with incense of all things?”

  His cousin settled down. “That’s better. There are many poisons that can be disguised in incense samples. As you know, I am preparing for another incense party. I believe the old crone helped herself to some of the incense from that table over there. With the judging to be tomorrow! And now I have a death in the house, and the whole affair will have to be called off. It’s outrageous.”

  A house where there had been a death was taboo because contact with the dead made people ritually impure. But clearly this had not prevented Koremori from sending for Akitada, who said somewhat curtly, “Tell me about the dead woman.”

  Koremori scowled. “She was my late wife’s nurse. I should not have kept her, when she was clearly past her duties, but she looked after my son when he was small. She always took care of the ancestral altar, replacing the food offerings and burning incense to the spirits of the dead every morning. When the servants found her dead, they called me.” He paused and gazed into the distance, perhaps to picture the scene in his mind. “‘Dead as dust and cold as copper coins,’ you might say.”

  In addition to incense parties, Koremori was also devoted to poetry contests and practiced whenever an opportunity arose. Akitada could not control his sarcasm. “Dust and copper coins?” he asked, raising his brows.

  “Don’t be dense. It’s what she was lying on. Ashes from the over-turned incense burner and a little pile of coins from one of the offerings to the dead. The line symbolizes the futility of human desires rather neatly, don’t you think?”

  “Very appropriate.” Akitada felt slightly sick.

  “I have jotted it down for future reference,” Koremori said complacently.

  “What about the incense? How did she get it?”

  Koremori rose. “Come and see for yourself.”

  The tray on the table near the door now held only one small packet wrapped in paper, tied with silk, and labeled with an elegantly brushed phrase. One end of the paper twist had been opened and re-folded. Akitada bent and sniffed. The remnant of ground incense inside seemed to have the same odor as the ancestral shrine.

  He had heard stories about people becoming ill after experimenting with exotic combinations of incense ingredients but, like the constable, he had never encountered a case where the victim had died. The opened package was labeled “Transcending Life.”

  “How do you know this was poison?” Akitada asked. “Apparently the police think the nurse died from natural causes.”

  “Hah! That shows you what they know. There was a very strange smell in the shrine. When we found the dead woman, my major-domo mentioned that she had complained about not having any incense, but clearly she got some somewhere. Then I came in here and I saw that this sample had been opened. It arrived late yesterday, and I decided to test it. After getting a pinch started, I was called away. When I returned later, there was the same strong odor in the room and Yoshiko’s cat lay dead on the floor. I held my breath and ran to open all the shutters to air out the room but nearly fainted anyway. There’s your proof that someone intended to murder me.”

  Akitada regarded his cousin. He did not like the note of triumph in Koremori’s voice. But if the dead woman had burned poisonous incense that morning, it would indeed explain the dead flies in the shrine. There was something vaguely troubling about the affair, something that had nothing to do with Koremori’s fears. “Whose incense is this?” he asked, nudging the opened paper with his fingernail.

  “I don’t know. Anyone could have left it. The samples are anonymous. We identify each sample by its title. Here!” Koremori detached the label and gave it to Akitada before returning to his desk.

  Akitada followed, frowning at the label. “But why would the nurse help herself to a contest sample?” he asked.

  “How should I know? She was a very unpleasant and disobedient servant and was probably too lazy to get fresh incense from the household stores. Really, it served her right.” Koremori paused, then added, “It was lucky in a way. If she had not helped herself, I would not have discovered the plot and would be dead by now.”

  Akitada thought the luck depended on your point of view. His dislike for Koremori increased. He laid the label on the desk. “Whom do you suspect?”

  “No idea. That’s where you come in, my dear Akitada. Your success in criminal investigations is well known. You’ll work it out quickly, I’m sure.”

  “If this is a murder case, I’m afraid I cannot get involved. The minister has strictly forbidden it.”

  “Soga?” Koremori waved a dismissive hand. “I will speak to him.”

  “I doubt he’ll permit it. He has been very clear on that point. I regret that I cannot be of assistance, Cousin, but Captain Kobe is very efficient.”

  Koremori was about to protest when the door opened and a teary-eyed and agitated Lady Yoshiko rushed in. “Oh, Koremori,” she cried wringing her hands, “it’s too dreadful! What shall be done about poor Oigimi? I’m too distraught to manage.” She saw Akitada and blushed. “Cousin Akitada,” she murmured, raising her sleeve to dab at her eyes.

  Koremori looked embarrassed.

  “Perhaps,” offered Akitada, “I may be of assistance, Lady Yoshiko. If you are worried about funeral arrangements for, er, Oigimi, I could stop at a temple and ask the monks to come and read the services.”

  She looked at him with a tremulous smile. “You’re the kindest man, Akitada,” she murmured. “Do you think they would come?”

  “Don’t be an idiot, Akitada,” snapped Koremori. “Oigimi was her cat.”

  “Oh,” said Akitada.

  The young woman looked reproachful. “She was a very beautiful cat, black with four white paws, and so sweet. She never left my side. I’m sure some divine creature’s soul inhabited her body.”

  “Never mind, my dear.” Koremori was irritated but he restrained himself. “We are very busy just now. Please speak to one of the servants about the cat.”

  “You never liked Oigimi,” Lady Yoshiko accused him with a charming pout. She turned to Akitada. “He always thought the poor little sweet thing would disturb his paperwork.” Her eyes fell on the desk and she saw the incense tag with the words “Transcendent Life.” “I shall ask Sakanoue,” she said with a heavy sigh and left.

  An uncomfortable silence fell, then Akitada asked, “Who is Sakanoue?”

  “Just a friend. A distant relation who amuses Yoshiko. But to get back to my problem: what will you do? Remember, the killer may try again.”

  “Is there someone in your household who would want to kill you?”

  Koremori threw up his hands. “How should I know. I treat my servants well.”

  “What about your friends? Specifically the participants in the incense party?”

  “Quite impossible! And don’t ask for the
ir names. They are far too important to be troubled with questions.”

  Akitada raised his brows. “You’re not making this easy. Who would benefit from your death?”

  Koremori’s mouth twitched. “Apart from some small bequests for the servants, my property will go to your mother.”

  Akitada felt trapped. “Very well. If you can get me permission from the minister, I’ll look into it.” He picked up the tag Yoshiko had looked at. “The handwriting is elegant. Any idea whose it is?”

  “Not really. It’s vaguely familiar.”

  Since further conversation seemed unprofitable, Akitada rose to leave.

  As he had suspected, his mother took an avid interest in the news about Koremori’s will. “Very proper,” she concluded. “I daresay Koremori exaggerates his danger, but it is good to know that his affairs are in order. Still there is the young woman. From what you say, he is not deeply enamored and the affair may not last, but meanwhile you must spare no effort to ingratiate yourself. Make yourself indispensable. Exaggerate the danger. Convince him that, but for you, he might die. In short, act like Akemori would have, had he been alive.”

  Akitada, sickened by these instructions, said, “I shall try, Mother.”

  A messenger arrived early the following morning with a note from Koremori: “I have spoken to Soga.”

  Reluctantly—it was amazing that even a dull day in the archives seemed preferable— Akitada returned to his cousin’s house to question the servants.

  He found the major-domo Kenzo—a small, thin, middle-aged man of neat appearance—in the ancestral shrine, instructing the youngster who had removed the kitten from Koremori’s room in the proper polishing of the floor.

  “A terrible thing,” Kenzo said. He shook his neatly coiffed head, on which every strand of hair had been pulled back sharply, wound about with a black silk cord, and tied at the precise apex into a smooth loop. As a result of this extreme tension, his thin eyebrows were permanently raised as if in astonishment at the oddities of life. “Tomoe—she was the dead woman—asked me for incense that morning. I went immediately to the store house, but the supply was gone. I think the maids must have helped themselves. I suggested she skip the incense just once, but she refused quite rudely. She should never have taken the master’s incense, but she always thought of herself as serving her dead mistress and her son.” He shook his head again and adjusted the black sash that held the stiffly starched blue cotton robe at his neat waist.

  “It’s surely unusual for an experienced servant to disobey in this manner,” Akitada suggested.

  Kenzo pursed his lips and nodded. “Tomoe has always been difficult. She came here as her late ladyship’s nurse and took orders from no one but her mistress. It was very frustrating. All the other servants disliked her.”

  “Why was that?”

  Echoing Koremori, Kenzo said evasively, “She was an unpleasant person.” When Akitada raised his brows, he added, “It is true. Even the master had trouble with her. Only two days ago, I heard them shouting at each other in the master’s study. Imagine a servant shouting at the master of the house! A very unpleasant woman.”

  At this point, the boy looked up from his chore and said, “Tomoe took money and things from people. I told the maid not to give the old demon her best sash, but she slapped my face and said to keep my mouth shut.”

  “And very good advice, too,” snapped Kenzo. “Nobody asked you.” He apologized, “He’s only a silly boy, and not very bright as you can see, sir.”

  “Not at all,” said Akitada, smiling at the boy. “I’m sure he is quite clever.”

  The boy nodded. “I watch and I remember.” He looked at Akitada. “You were visiting the master yesterday and the day before that. Go ahead, ask me something about the master and Tomoe.”

  “Enough, Jiro!” snapped Kenzo.

  But Jiro had something to prove. “The master was going to send Tomoe away, but she wouldn’t go. She talked about her mistress and Master Akemori, and the master got quiet, and when she came out, she was smiling.”

  Kenzo was outraged. “Leave the room this instance, Jiro. Your chatter is as foolish as a monkey’s.”

  Jiro gave Akitada an impudent grin, dropped his oily rag, and scampered off.

  Akitada did not agree with Kenzo’s estimate of Jiro, but said nothing. Instead he asked, “Were any of Lord Koremori’s recent guests regular visitors in this house?”

  “Ah, you mean the incense party. Only Lord Sakanoue is a regular visitor. He’s related to the young lady, I believe, and visits quite often. The other gentlemen only attend for the incense guessing.”

  Koremori had refused to give Akitada the names of the contestants, but Kenzo had no such reservations. When Akitada asked, he listed them with relish. “In addition to Lord Sakanoue, there was the senior secretary of the imperial household office, the captain of the inner palace guards, the recorder in the ministry of popular affairs, the abbot of the Ninna Temple and Professor Tachibana from the university.”

  All seemed men above and beyond reproach and clearly incapable of concocting poisonous substances in order to do away with Koremori. Akitada thanked Kenzo for this very precise and useful information and asked to speak to some of the other servants.

  This effort produced little that was new. Clearly they had not liked Tomoe and had hoped the master would dismiss her. They denied taking or hiding the incense stores. They refused—quite properly—to comment on the master’s mistress or her relation, though Akitada caught a smirk or two from the maids. The general feeling was that Tomoe had died from old age and poor health and that they were glad to be rid of her. Akitada thanked them and went to find his cousin.

  “Well,” Koremori greeted him, “have you learned anything?”

  “Yes,” Akitada said grimly. “You were not the intended victim.”

  Koremori’s jaw dropped. “But …”

  “The nurse was meant to die.”

  Koremori burst out laughing. “Don’t be ridiculous. Who would go to such lengths to get rid of an old servant woman?”

  “She was blackmailing the people in this household. I think she blackmailed you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “What did you and Tomoe quarrel about the day before she died?”

  Koremori fidgeted. “Who says we quarreled?”

  “Kenzo. He overheard you. My guess is that you tried to dismiss her and she threatened you if you did. What did she know that would make you tolerate her in your house?”

  Koremori flushed and looked away. After a moment, he said, “You’re quite right, Akitada. I’m ashamed to tell you that Yoshiko has been unfaithful. Look at me. Why would a young beauty want a man like me? I’m old and ugly. I was uneasy about those visits from the handsome Sakanoue, but I believed that he was her cousin and that she was lonely. Tomoe was supposed to keep an eye on them. Well, she didn’t. I walked in and found them caressing each other. I said nothing, but I called the old woman into my study to dismiss her. She became rude and threatened to tell everyone about my private household affairs. I had to give in and let her stay. That is what Kenzo overheard.” Koremori buried his face in his hands.

  Akitada felt some pity for him and was vaguely ashamed of having thought him a toad, but this lasted only until Koremori dropped his hands and exclaimed, “Hah! It was Sakanoue all along. I should have seen it right away. Yes, of course. It was his handwriting on the tag. Yoshiko recognized it, too. They plan to murder me. Oh, what a fool I’ve been.”

  “What motive do they have?”

  Koremori’s face twisted. “Isn’t it obvious? They are lovers.”

  “That’s ludicrous. Besides, the poisoned incense could have killed or at least sickened everybody at the party, including Sakanoue.”

  “Have you forgotten that I test all samples first? He knew that and expected me to be dead before the judging. I don’t think I like your attitude, Akitada. What is the matter with you? You’re my cousin.”

  “B
y marriage only, I’m thankful to say.”

  “What?” Koremori turned red with anger. “You would do well to think before you insult your elders.”

  “I think you decided to kill the old woman because she blackmailed you and that now you are trying to rid yourself of Yoshiko and Sakanoue by accusing them.”

  Koremori’s eyes bulged. “Have you gone mad?”

  “Sakanoue and Yoshiko have no motive. Yoshiko can leave you anytime. Your trouble is that your pride cannot tolerate scandal, and I expect the nurse demanded money for her silence.”

  “That’s an outrageous lie. Get out of my house. Now!”

  Akitada was too angry to obey. He got to his feet and towered over Koremori. “I’m not done. A man as versed in the preparation of incense as you are is familiar with poisonous substances, and you knew the nurse was fanatical about her shrine ritual. You purchased the poison—perhaps it was sap from the lacquer tree which could cause a person to choke after inhaling it—and made sure there would be no incense in the house except your own supplies. Then you prepared the poisoned incense, and left it where she would be sure to find it. You murdered her, Koremori.”

  Koremori stared up at him. “I never really knew you, Akitada. I see now that your mother was right about you all along. You have no heart.”

  That hurt.

  Akitada said, “I never liked you very much, Koremori, but I didn’t think you capable of murder. I won’t let you use me to pin your crime on Sakanoue and Yoshiko. I know what you did. You prepared all the clues, attached the tag written by Sakanoue to the poisoned sample, and called the police. When they didn’t cooperate, you decided to get me involved.”

  Koremori gave him his twisted smile. “You think you’re clever, but you’re a fool after all. Even if you were right, you could do nothing about it. There’s no proof.”

  “Perhaps not. But I can lay charges against you. The police will question your friends, your servants, and Lady Yoshiko. The scandal of such an investigation will put an end to your social life. What would Akemori have thought of his father then?” Akitada stopped. He recalled suddenly that there had been some unpleasant gossip about Akemori’s true parentage shortly after his death. On that moment’s inspiration, he said, “Or did the old nurse threaten to reveal that he was not your son at all?”