by I. J. Parker
"No matter," said Akitada. "It is nothing of great importance."
"Genius needs the utmost privacy," Ono insisted. "Perhaps Mr. Ishikawa or I may be of assistance?"
So it was Mr. Ishikawa now. Akitada glanced at the young man, who acknowledged his surprise with a raised eyebrow. Turning his back on him, Akitada asked Ono, "Is there some arrangement by which weaker students receive tutoring in Chinese? I am afraid I have discovered some dunces in my class."
"Oh," said Ono, "if they can pay, we can always find a senior student to work with them. Of course, if the student comes from one of the great families, he will have his own tutor already. But I hope you are not too severe? It is only rarely that we have someone as talented as Mr. Ishikawa."
Forced to acknowledge Ishikawa's presence, Akitada remarked to him, "Yes. I have been told that you are favored to win first place in the next examination. My compliments."
"Thank you," Ishikawa said complacently, adding, "Unfortunately that is still many months away."
Irritated by the other's assurance, Akitada nodded, saying, "Quite right! An uncertain business, apparently. I am told that the last favorite did not win after all."
Ono cut in, "Oh, that was a shock, to be sure! But it happens only rarely that a young man produces superior work so suddenly at the last moment. Surely it is not likely to happen this time. Not at all!"
Ishikawa smiled. "I'm not worried," he drawled. "After all, I have worked too hard and for too long a time to miss out now. Oh, no! I am quite certain of success."
Akitada did not like Ishikawa's tone. It was not so much his arrogant certainty that troubled him, as a hint of threat. After a trivial comment about the weather, he left to prepare the next day's lessons.
When Tora arrived with his master's good robe and hat, Akitada was still bent over his notes.
"You'd better change, sir," Tora cried. "It's almost time to leave for the professor's dinner."
"So late already!" Akitada rubbed his eyes and stretched. "Thank you, Tora." Suddenly the prospect of this evening's meeting overwhelmed him. He rose. "Help me out of this gown. And I suppose I had better wash my hands and face. See if you can find some water."
"Shouldn't you go to a barber?" Tora asked.
Akitada ran a hand around his chin. "Why? I never shave before dinner."
Tora grumbled but went for the water.
After Akitada had splashed his face and washed his hands, he patted down his hair before a mirror. Tora stood by holding the robe, his head cocked, watching Akitada with a broad grin. "You do look like a nervous suitor," he pronounced with a chuckle.
Akitada swung around. "How did you know?"
"Oh, it figures. First your lady mother insisted on selecting this robe. Then she had her maid sponge it. Then she mixed some incense and perfumed it personally. She said you're careless with your clothes." Tora chuckled and brought one of the sleeves to his nose. Inhaling deeply, he staggered a bit, cried, "Mmmm!" and rolled up his eyes comically. "The young lady will swoon! I can't wait to see it."
"Don't be ridiculous!" Akitada snapped, snatching the robe away from him. "I am merely going for a dinner at the house of friends. And you are not needed."
"Sorry, sir." Tora grinned broadly. "Lady Sugawara's orders. You are to be accompanied by your servant."
Akitada glared at him, but Tora immediately put on an injured look. "Oh, very well," Akitada said grudgingly, slipping into the gray silk robe and belting it. Tora looked pleased and handed him the tall black hat.
Akitada slapped it on, saying impatiently, "Let's go then!"
Outside he strode out so quickly that Tora had trouble keeping up with him. "Wait," he cried, when Akitada passed through the university gate with flying skirts and his chin in the air. "There's no hurry if you're not going to stop at the barber's first."
Akitada came to a halt. Before him lay the green expanse of the Divine Spring Garden in the evening sunlight. On an impulse he crossed the street.
"Where are you going now?" Tora panted behind him.
"I want to take a quick look at the pavilion where the poetry reading is to be staged tomorrow. It will only take a minute."
But the rustic gate was guarded tonight, and the man barred their way. "I'm very sorry, sir, but the park is closed to the public today and tomorrow," he told Akitada.
"I am one of the professors," said Akitada, "and came to have a look at the preparations."
Eyeing the visitor's finery and his servant, the guard bowed and stepped aside. "In that case, since the gentleman is part of tomorrow's event, I am sure it will be all right."
The park was very beautiful at this time. The setting sun slanted through the branches, gilding the new leaves and spilling liquid gold on the gravel paths. Birds sang, the scent of flowers teased the senses, and the path took mysterious turns among fresh ferns and flowering azaleas. The haunting fragrance in the air reminded Akitada of Tamako and his imminent proposal of marriage. When he and Tora turned a bend, he saw that a gigantic wisteria had grown through a willow, mingling its heavy purple blooms with the pale green curtain of the willow's sweeping boughs. Suddenly his spirits lifted. Surely all would be well. They had been friends too long to make things awkward between them.
The next curve brought them within view of the lake and the emperor's summer pavilion. Akitada stopped to admire the scene. It was one of the prettiest sights in the capital. The fragile red-lacquered balconies and the brilliant blue tiled roof rose against the solid green of the park. Gilded dolphin finials and bells at the ends of the curved eaves sparkled in the rays of the setting sun. As they watched, a breeze stirred the tree tops and raised tiny wavelets of shimmering gold on the blue water.
"Amida!" gasped Tora at Akitada's shoulder. "This is what the gardens of the Western Paradise must be like. That lake is really big. Look at those boats. And there's an island with a temple on it, just like in that picture in your mother's room."
"It is pretty," said Akitada, thinking back to his student days when he spent hours fishing on the small island, and attended boating parties with friends on lantern-lit summer evenings. He saw that the preparations for the poetry contest had already begun. The boats were lined up on the shore, ready for tomorrow's guests. The expanse of white sand extending from the steps of the pavilion to the waterline was neatly raked, and on the broad veranda, already plunged into deep shadows, he could make out stacks of dark cushions.
Tora was more interested in the lake. "What are those buildings back there on the far shore?" he asked.
"One is called the eastern fishing pavilion. The other is the waterfall pavilion because next to it an artificial waterfall flows into the lake. There are two more just like them, but you cannot see them from here. On occasion the emperor and his court use all of them for their outings."
"Really?" Tora peered, then plunged into the undergrowth separating them from the lakeshore to get a better look, while Akitada waited, amused, on the path.
Suddenly he heard a cry followed by a colorful string of curses, and then Tora shouted, "Hey! Come here and look at this!"
Akitada entered the shrubbery more cautiously, moving the brambles away from his silk robe. He found Tora bent over the sprawling figure of a young woman in a blue cotton robe. She lay on her side, her arms and legs flung carelessly among the reeds growing from the mud near the water's edge, and she looked very dead.
Akitada stepped carefully around the body on the soggy ground, saw the protruding tongue and purple cast of her skin, and recognized her instantly. She was the girl who had taken lute lessons from Professor Sato, and she had been strangled.
"Some bastard choked her to death," Tora said unnecessarily.
Akitada reached down and touched her cheek. It was soft, still childishly round, but dusted with a light coating of the white powder common among women of the upper classes and prostitutes. The skin felt faintly warm, not yet clammy. When he reached for her arm and moved it, it bent easily. The fingers were limp, s
kin and nails quite clean except for slight traces of mud where they had rested on the ground.
"Not long ago," he said, straightening up, and scanning the surroundings. The reeds around the body were only trampled where he and Tora had walked. "I wonder what she was doing in the park when it is closed."
"That killer may still be around," said Tora. "Shall I go have a look?"
"Yes, but don't go far."
Frowning, Akitada looked at the girl's body, then bent down to turn her fully on her back. As she rolled, her blue gown parted, revealing a dingy white cotton under-robe. He stood up again and began searching the ground between the body and the foot path, but found nothing. Returning to her, he squatted down again and gently lifted her chin. Deep red and purple streaks marked the white skin of her neck.
"Not a soul in sight," said Tora behind him, pushing through the reeds. He saw the body with its disordered clothes and cursed. "So he raped her first."
"I don't think so," said Akitada. "Her clothes are clean enough and uncreased. If she had been raped, she would surely have struggled."
"But her sash is undone! No respectable female walks around with her gown hanging open like that. If she wasn't raped, she was cooperating. And why would the guy choke her to death if she was willing?"
"A puzzle. Take a look at her neck! When a man strangles someone with his bare hands, he leaves finger marks. I read once that these can be measured and compared to the suspect's hands. But this woman was not strangled by hand; she was choked to death with a piece of fabric, possibly her missing sash. Did you see anything like it on your search?"
Tora shook his head. "A sash? No. You want me to look again?"
"No. The light is getting poor and the place is too large. I must go report the murder to the local warden. You stay here!"
At the gate, Akitada found the guard stretched out across the path, dozing. "Get up," he snapped, bringing the man stuttering to his feet. "There's been a murder committed within the past hour. Who has entered or left the park during that time?"
The man gaped and protested volubly that nobody, apart from Akitada and Tora, had been admitted or departed while he was on duty. "All the gates were closed two hours ago. Only authorized personnel are admitted, and only through this gate, sir," he cried. "You saw yourself that I stopped you and your man."
Akitada raised his eyebrows. "You did not seem to be very alert just now," he pointed out. "Are you certain there were no other visitors?"
"Yes, sir! And I was just sitting down for a minute. You may be sure I keep my eyes open at all times. This time of year the park is full of all sorts of riffraff."
"Then you did not see a young woman in a blue cotton gown going in? Medium height, about eighteen or nineteen, and pretty?"
The guard's eyes grew round. "Was it her that's been killed? Amida! I know the one you mean. She's a regular almost. Comes here quite often. Always comes alone and leaves alone." He placed a dirty finger on his nose and winked. " 'Course that's not to say she spends her time alone once she gets here, eh? The young gentlemen from the university must have their fun! Hah, hah! Live and let live, I always say."
Akitada said coldly, "Not in this case. So you did admit her even though the park is supposed to be closed."
"Oh, no, sir! I didn't see her today. She must've gone in before I went on duty."
"Very well. Keep your eyes open and detain anyone who tries to leave. The murderer may still be inside. I am going to see the warden now."
The left division of the city administration, Sakyo Shiki, was in the block just south of the university. It also housed the office of the warden for this quarter. Akitada reported to a businesslike elderly man who immediately dispatched a runner to police headquarters, then sent a contingent of constables to the park before taking down Akitada's statement. This took some time, and when Akitada finally returned to the park gate, a group of red-coated police were just entering at a trot. He walked in after them with a nod to the gate guard, but suddenly there was a peremptory "Halt!" behind him.
He turned. A tall, middle-aged officer in the uniform of a police captain, red robe, bow and quiver of arrows, was striding purposefully towards him. The handsome bearded face was scowling. "What are you doing here?" he snapped. "This park is closed. Identify yourself and explain your business!"
Akitada obeyed meekly. The other man's glance sharpened, but he did not relent. "So!" he said curtly. "I'm Kobe. Captain of police. Show me the body!"
Akitada led the way. They found Tora and the policemen arguing. Kobe barked an order, and his men retreated. Tora joined Akitada as they watched Kobe making a preliminary examination of the site and the body. When the captain was done, he walked over to his men, gave some orders, and they dispersed. Then he came back to Akitada and said, "Strangled, and not long ago. Two hours, perhaps less." Again his sharp eyes studied Akitada, who nodded. "I am having the park combed for the killer. You must have found her shortly after it happened. Did you move the body?"
Akitada explained and, with Tora's assistance, demonstrated the girl's original position. "She looked as if she had been flung into the reeds," he said.
Kobe looked at the body, the trampled reeds and torn shrubbery and said sourly, "Too bad people feel the need to meddle. No telling how much evidence has been destroyed." After a moment's awkward silence, he added grudgingly, "But I suppose you didn't do too much harm. She's a commoner, but not a street girl, I think. About six or seven months pregnant."
"What?" Akitada flushed with embarrassment at his oversight. "I am afraid I do not have much experience in such matters," he mumbled, reddening even more at the admission. "She looked merely heavy to me."
The other man sighed. "Never mind," he said. "At your age I didn't know any better myself. You're not a married man, I take it?"
Akitada shook his head. "Not yet."
Kobe's lips twitched. Then he said, "Well, the coroner has to confirm it. Her sash is gone. I don't suppose you've seen it?"
"No. We looked in the immediate vicinity. It is probably red brocade, a particularly fine grade."
At this Kobe's eyebrows shot up, and Akitada elaborated. "I recognized her. She is a young woman I saw briefly about a week ago. At that time she was wearing the same sort of clothing, and I noticed the unusually expensive sash, because it did not match the rest of her clothes. I am afraid I do not know her name."
"Where did you see her? What was she doing?"
"She was leaving the music building of the university after a lute lesson."
"Lute lessons? From a music professor? A common girl like her?"
Not liking the captain's tone somehow, Akitada said stiffly, "Nevertheless, that is how I came to see her."
"What is this professor's name and where does he live?"
This would hardly endear him to Sato, Akitada thought. For a moment he was tempted to distract Kobe from the music professor by telling him what the gate guard had said about the girl, but he decided against it. A man as efficient as this one would naturally interrogate the guard. "His name is Sato," he said. "I do not know his address."
"Hmm." Kobe thought for a moment, looking at the body of the girl again. "It gives us a place to start. I don't suppose any of the faculty are still about at this hour?"
"I doubt it."
"Sir?" Tora was becoming restive. He pulled Akitada's sleeve, whispering, "It's getting very late. The Hiratas are waiting."
Akitada recalled himself to his own problems. "Yes, of course, Tora. I forgot." Turning to the captain, he said, "If you don't need us any further tonight, I am late for an important appointment."
Kobe looked Tora up and down and asked, "Tora? Are you the one your master picked up on the highway after someone tried to rob him?"
Tora grinned. "The very same, sir," he said proudly.
Akitada stared at Kobe in speechless surprise. "How could you know about that?" he asked.
Kobe's eyes twinkled suddenly. He clearly enjoyed the effect he had created. "Oh,"
he said, "in my business it's a good idea to keep my ears open. In fact, the only reason I didn't arrest you two on the spot was that I recognized your name. There was a lot of talk in this city about the way you handled those renegade monks." The corner of his mouth twitched again and he almost smiled. "But don't let me keep you. I shall know how to find you if I have further questions."
"Oh," stammered Akitada, "I see. Yes. Thank you."
They hurried away. Near the gate they ran into a group of constables who were dragging along an old ragged beggar. Worried about their lateness, Akitada rushed past them, but Tora hung back to ask a question.
When he caught up, he said, "They found that beggar hiding in some bushes near one of the gates and arrested him. Seems like he had a woman's sash in his sleeve."
Akitada stopped and looked back at the group. "That old man? Impossible! He looks too frail to lift a baby, let alone a full-grown pregnant woman."
He started towards the constables, but Tora grabbed his sleeve. "No, you can't! You have promised the Hiratas and your mother. Besides that captain looked smart enough to figure that out for himself."
Akitada nodded reluctantly.
When they had left the park and were rushing along Second Avenue, Tora said, "So she was pregnant! I thought so. I wonder what that means."
Akitada did not answer.
"That fellow Sato? Her teacher? You suppose it's his kid?" Tora persisted.
"Hmm."
"Maybe he killed her because she was blackmailing him."
"What? Will you please be quiet, Tora? I am thinking!"
Tora grinned, barely refraining from another quip about anxious suitors. They covered the rest of the distance without talking. Akitada's face wore a distracted, anxious look, and he had started to perspire, more from nerves than their rapid walk.
As it turned out, he need not have worried.
The minute he knocked on the Hiratas' gate, it flew open. Tamako herself stood before him, holding up a lantern and peering up at him anxiously. In the golden light, her slender figure looked like an apparition against the darkness of the garden behind. She wore a fine gown, but in the glow of the lantern, Akitada saw that her face was pale and tense.
