Rashomon Gate

by I. J. Parker

  "I was surprised to find Sato entertaining women in his rooms. He claimed he was giving a lesson, but it looked like they were practicing something other than the lute."

  Hirata raised his brows. "My dear boy," he chided, "you sound like a prude. We have known about Sato's private lessons for some time. They are, of course, theoretically against the rules, but performers and entertainers from the pleasure quarter are eager to learn Sato's technique and the special arrangements he is famous for, and he needs the money. His salary seems to run through his fingers like water and he is always in debt. You must make allowance for the artistic temperament."

  "His behavior certainly makes him a target for our blackmailer."

  Hirata stopped smiling. "He could never pay such a sum. At least, I would not think so. I hope it isn't Sato. He is a genius and has a large family to support."

  "That makes it worse. Anyway, so far he is the only one of your colleagues who is clearly involved in an illegality or immorality. There is another point which has occurred to me. What did your robe look like? Was there another one very similar to yours?"

  "Of course! I should have thought of that. It was green silk, with a small white pattern of cherry blossoms. But I don't believe anyone else could have had the same design."

  "In the dark a very small pattern might not have shown up. Did anyone else wear green?"

  "Tanabe, Fujiwara and Takahashi."

  Akitada looked startled. "So many?"

  "We are all the same rank. Green is our rank color."

  "But not Oe's?"

  "Oh no! The head of the Chinese literature department outranks us all by one degree. Oe always wears blue."

  "I see. And the others all hold lesser ranks?"

  "Yes. Well, it is shameful to admit it, but of my three colleagues in green, I should prefer it to be Takahashi. It would serve him right."

  They were interrupted by the clatter of many steps on the wooden stairs and boards of the veranda. Young voices were shouting and laughing.

  "Here come your pupils," remarked Hirata with a smile.

  "Mine?" Akitada felt a sudden panic. "I thought you were preparing for your own class."

  "Oh, no. But don't worry! They are only raw youngsters who need to learn the workings of our government, department by department, before they can study the laws which govern each and by which each governs. You used to know this so well you could have recited it in your sleep."

  The door burst open and groups of fresh-faced boys, ranging in age from twelve to eighteen, bowed their way in, found their seats, and knelt, ramrod straight in their neat dark cotton robes. To Akitada's surprise, the last person to enter was easily in his fifties. He too wore a student's robe, bowed, and found his seat. Akitada looked at Hirata.

  "That is Mr. Ushimatsu," Hirata whispered. "He has taken a long time to get admitted and will take even longer to pass the first of our examinations, but he tries so very hard that I have become quite fond of him. "Taking Akitada by the arm, Hirata stepped forward and bowed to the class. Akitada quickly followed suit, and the students solemnly bowed back.

  "This is your new instructor, Master Sugawara," Hirata announced. "He comes to us from the Ministry of Justice and has recently served as kageyushi. You may ask him anything." Having made this generous promise, Hirata bowed to Akitada and the class and left the room.

  Silence fell. Akitada sat down behind his desk and looked at his students, who stared back at him without blinking. They seemed ordinary enough youngsters— all but Mr. Ushimatsu, who was regarding him with open-mouthed expectancy. One boy, younger and frailer than the rest, sat apart a little. He was a handsome lad but had dark rings under his eyes and delicate features. He alone was completely detached, as if he cared nothing about the class or the new teacher. Akitada gave him an encouraging smile which was not returned. The boy merely looked away.

  "Excuse me, sir!" It was Mr. Ushimatsu who had spoken up. "What's a kageyushi do, sir?" he asked.

  One of the other boys snorted. "Stupid! A kageyushi's an investigator of outgoing officials."

  Far from being offended, Mr. Ushimatsu bowed to the boy and said humbly, "Thank you. It is kind of you to instruct me."

  Embarrassed Akitada told the class, "I was sent to Kazusa province when the provincial governor was being recalled. Our government makes certain that every official's records are in order before a new appointee takes over. Perhaps some day you, too, will be called on to check records or govern a province. That is why you must study hard now to be prepared."

  Another boy asked, "Was it very hard work, sir?"

  Akitada hesitated. "Not so very hard. I had help from some good people, but . . ." All eyes hung on his lips. "Well, there were some evil people there who, out of greed, plotted and committed murder, which made the assignment unusually diffi—" He broke off.

  The frail boy had jumped up. He looked perfectly white and his fists were clenched. "May I please be excused, sir?" he gasped, then dashed out the door without waiting for an answer, slamming it behind him.

  Akitada looked after him in surprise. "What is that boy's name?" he asked.

  "That's Lord Minamoto," volunteered one of the boys immediately.

  His neighbor added with bitter satisfaction, "He thinks he's better than the rest of us and can do what he wants."

  Three

  Rabbit

  Early the following morning, Akitada met with Seimei and Tora. His mother was still blissfully unaware of his new occupation, and Akitada hoped to escape before she could send for him.

  They were in Akitada's room, which looked out on the sadly overgrown garden. In the distance Lady Sugawara's veranda struck a jarring note with its pale new wood next to the dark, weathered walls of the ancient Sugawara mansion.

  "My mother has grown quite fond of you, I think," Akitada told Tora. "Offering to repair her veranda was a master stroke."

  Tora smirked. There had at first been a certain stiffness between the old lady and the former robber. "I am to see to the garden next," he stated proudly.

  "Well," Akitada said, "that's why I wanted to talk to you. The garden will have to wait. I have an assignment for you. I am working on a case at the university and shall need you both." He explained about the misdirected blackmail note.

  Tora clapped his hands. "Great!" he cried. "I like investigating. Just turn me loose and I'll find out what's going on at that school."

  Seimei sniffed. "You had better watch your step! They are not your ramshackle friends from the city. Professors are learned noblemen, and the students young gentlemen. They have been studying the precepts of Master Kung and have immersed themselves in the wisdom of the five sages." He turned to his master. "Perhaps I had better take off a few days also, sir. That way I can make sure this young hothead does not get into trouble."

  Akitada smiled. "No, my friend. I shall need you in the government offices. Professors are officials of rank, and that means the Bureau of Education will have files on them." He picked up a sheet of paper and handed it to Seimei. "See what you can find about these people in the archives and by talking to the clerks. Especially any recent changes in their financial standing."

  "What do you want me to do?" Tora asked eagerly.

  "You may present yourself at the university as my servant. Mingle with the staff, servants, students, groundskeepers and so forth. Pick up any gossip about the professors and students that might tell us what is behind the blackmail."

  Tora nodded and rubbed his hands. "I may need some money, sir."

  "Don't give him a red copper, sir!" cried Seimei. "He will spend it buying wine for every low class person he encounters."

  Tora protested, "Haven't you always told me that walls have ears and bottles have mouths? I thought I'd be the wall and listen to the wine talking."

  "Make sure the wall is sound or our plan will collapse," Akitada said dryly, as he counted the copper coins on a string before handing it to Tora.

  Tora grinned and tucked the coppers i
n his sash. He headed towards the door, with Seimei following more slowly, when Akitada remembered something else. "Seimei," he called, "while you are checking the names on the list, try to find out how the late Prince Yoakira left his estate and who will benefit from his death."

  Seimei turned. "Oh, sir! You must stop this nonsense about the prince's death. It's not reasonable and . . . not really your affair. Besides it is most unwise. Think of the people involved! If word gets out about what you suspect, they will destroy you." He flushed. "I beg your pardon for speaking bluntly."

  Tora's eyes were bright with curiosity. "What are you talking about?"

  Seimei muttered, "The master thinks the prince was murdered."

  "Truly?" Tora sounded thrilled. "That's a lot better than demons devouring him. You wouldn't believe the stories people are telling about that. Horrible!" He shuddered.

  Akitada smiled. Tora was notoriously nervous about supernatural events. "They can't be any more ridiculous than the pious tale of a miraculous transfiguration," he said dryly, adding, "By the way, don't mention any of this to my mother or sisters. Perhaps you had better take care of your household duties before leaving, Tora."

  • • •

  Tora made short shrift of his chores by relegating most of them to the kitchen help and sauntered into the university shortly after the start of classes. From many halls came the sounds of young voices reciting answers or the dry tones of professors lecturing. The streets, courtyards, and most other buildings were silent and empty.

  Tora saw few promising sources of information until he strolled into the courtyard of the administration hall. Here he came face to face with one of the clerks, a short, middle-aged man, dressed shabbily in an old gray robe and faded black cap, who carried a wine jar and was accompanied by a gangly youth in a dirty student's robe who was gingerly balancing a stack of three steaming bowls. When the clerk saw Tora, he stopped in his tracks, a guilty look on his face. The gangly youngster stumbled and almost dropped his food.

  Tora noted with interest the clerk's florid complexion and decided to try his luck. "Having a second breakfast?" he remarked with a grin. "Lucky fellow! Getting paid a good salary for doing nothing and fed well on top of that! I see you have a good appetite when the food is free."

  The man bristled. "It's not free! And what's it to you?" he blustered, but he cast an uneasy eye on Tora's neat blue robe and small black cap.

  Tora drew himself up. "Nothing whatsoever, my man. I want to ask directions and, since there doesn't seem to be anybody else about, you'll do. I'm the new Professor Sugawara's assistant. Can you direct me to his office?"

  "Oh! I do beg your pardon, sir." The clerk bowed deeply, a sudden movement which brought his hip in collision with the gaping youth and upset the stack of bowls, one of which tumbled to the ground, spilling a savory-smelling stew of vegetables. The clerk immediately turned and cuffed the youngster's ear. The unfortunate lad blinked and almost dropped the other two bowls, but Tora caught them in time, handing them to the clerk, while the young man crouched, cleaning up the spilled food.

  "Oh, dear!" cried the clerk. "Thank you kindly. I cannot imagine why I pay this clumsy oaf for his services. My soft heart always gets me in trouble. Well, sir, you go out that gate," he pointed, "then turn right and cross the next street, and you will find the law school in the last courtyard to the south. And please forgive my rudeness. I should have recognized a learned gentleman immediately. The name is Nakatoshi, administrative clerk, at your service." He bowed again.

  "Not at all, my dear fellow," smiled Tora, basking in his new role. "My name is Kinto. As you see, I am earning my daily bowl of rice just like you, and if it comes to that, I am sure you people have your own skills, or you wouldn't be in charge of a bunch of learned professors." He slapped the man's shoulder and laughed at this witticism.

  Clutching the teetering bowls and the wine jar tightly to his chest, the clerk smiled thinly. "You are very understanding, sir. Great care is required to keep track of everybody here. We have almost four hundred students; hard work for only three clerks. My colleagues and I find that by mid-morning a bit of sustenance does wonders for the concentration. Thank heaven, the staff kitchen is next door and not at all bad."

  Tora, who had sniffed the aroma of the stew appreciatively, said, "It smells delicious! Positively gives a man an appetite. Please don't let me keep you from enjoying your snack."

  "Thank you." The clerk hesitated, then said, "Perhaps you might like to join us and sample the food? The cooking in the staff kitchen is vastly superior to that done for the students."

  "A pleasure, my dear Nakatoshi, on condition that you allow me to replace the spilled portion and pay for my share." Tora clinked the string of coppers in his sleeve.

  Nakatoshi expressed himself deeply honored, reluctantly accepted the money from Tora, and dispatched the youngster for more food. Leading the way into the hall, he took Tora to a dusty cubicle where two elderly clerks shuffled about among tall shelves filled with papers and boxes. Both were pale, bent, and nearsighted from their work, but cheered up at the unexpected company. Nakatoshi introduced Tora, who immediately engaged his hosts in conversation about the terrible working conditions at the university and the general poverty of its staff.

  When the student returned with the rest of the food, Nakatoshi told him severely, "It's a good thing you did not spill anything else. I would have taken it out of your wages if this gentleman had not made it good."

  "Thank you for your kindness," the student told Tora politely.

  Tora thought that, on closer inspection, there was something very much like a rabbit about his protruding front teeth and the long ears, but his voice was pleasant and his speech courteous.

  "You can go sweep the hall for the rest of the hour," Nakatoshi ordered, and the youth nodded and left.

  "I hear that the grandson of Prince Yoakira is a student," Tora remarked after a few bites.

  Nakatoshi looked uneasy. "Well," he said, "we are not really supposed to talk about it, but seeing that you are going to be a member of the university, I suppose it's all right. Yes, the boy was left here the very evening after the miracle. His fees were paid by his uncle, Lord Sakanoue, a very grand person, far above people like you and me. I had the honor of making the arrangements and took the young lord to his quarters. He looked very pale and was trembling. I was worried that he might be suffering from some illness and started to ask him questions, but he got quite haughty and told me to mind my own business. That's the nobility for you! Already the great lord, and no more than ten years old!"

  "A child of such august rank in a place like this!" muttered one of the old men through a mouthful of rice. "It's no wonder he looked ill when he saw the dormitories. I expect they send his food in from the outside, or he would be dead by now."

  Tora chewed a bit of bean curd and smacked his lips. "This is very tasty. I'm glad I ran into you fellows. Are things really so bad for the students?"

  The three clerks exchanged glances and grunted. "They treat animals better than they do students here," muttered Nakatoshi. "Of course that means we get some cheap help." He jerked his head towards the hall, where they could hear the sounds of energetic sweeping.

  The other old man suddenly joined the conversation. "How can they house and feed them better on what the government allows us? I can remember when the university got twice as much every year, plus extra gifts from grateful parents. Nowadays we all starve, students, staff and faculty alike."

  Tora regarded the empty bowls and reached for the wine flask. There were only a few drops left. "Allow me to pay for another round of wine!" he offered.

  This was gratefully accepted, and Nakatoshi shouted the order to the student in the hall.

  When they were well into the second pitcher, Tora considered the time ripe to probe some more. "Isn't it a bit strange," he asked, "that the son of a great family like the prince's should live here where conditions are so bad?"

  "Hah!" cried one of th
e old men. "The very thing I said when I heard."

  The other one nodded. "All the other children of the high nobles are day students and come only for their classes. The dormitories are for the sons of provincial families."

  "Well," said Tora, "I have a friend who keeps preaching to me what a fine thing getting an education is, but from what you fellows tell me, it seems even ordinary clerks and humble assistants like me are better off than the students. At least we can buy decent food and wine."

  "Speak for yourself!" Nakatoshi, his face positively glowing, gave his two colleagues a wink. "Perhaps your professor pays you well for your services, but let me tell you, we could not manage a simple meal like this without other sources of income." He chuckled.

  One of the old men looked up and cleared his throat warningly, but the wine had loosened Nakatoshi's tongue and he boasted, "Our work is not without its fringe benefits." Leaning a little closer to Tora, he said, "For example, we are in the unique position of being able to advise those who would like to put some money on the outcome of academic competitions."

  "Nakatoshi!" said the old man sharply.

  "You don't mean you make book on the examinations!" Tora exclaimed, putting an arm around Nakatoshi's shoulders.

  Nakatoshi giggled. "Not the term I would use, my friend, my very good friend," he babbled, "but similar. Say, would you like to see some odds for the upcoming poetry contest? Maybe wager a little? It's between Oe and Fujiwara on our team, and Okura and Asano for the government. What do you say?"

  Tora grinned broadly. "This is my lucky day, and you're a man after my own heart!" he cried. "I can tell I shall like it here. Tell me more!"

  But the old man who had grumbled all along now snapped, "Better watch your tongue, Nakatoshi! You remember what happened last spring."