by I. J. Parker
Akitada glanced away. “I know. I don’t know what to tell you. I’m no longer young. And Tamako is still too much with me.”
“Well,” said Kosehira briskly, “so be it. You’ll take your time, but I insist that you come back here frequently. My tenure as governor will be up in another year and I may be sent to the ends of the earth then. So please come to see me often while we are close, and I’ll stop by your house also when I’m in the capital.”
They both rose. Akitada said, “I will, brother,” and embraced Kosehira.
On the way out, Kosehira said, “I’ll convey your farewells to Yukiko. She’ll miss seeing you before you go.”
Akitada stopped. “I … I had occasion to speak to Lady Yukiko. In the garden. The other morning.” Recalling the impropriety of that meeting, he added, “We met by accident. Briefly.” He knew his face had turned red and hoped Kosehira had not noticed.
Kosehira’s lip twitched. “I see. Well, then.” He took Akitada’s arm and they walked outside. “Have a safe journey.”
Akitada saw that an armed escort of mounted guards waited. He stopped. “Not for me, I hope?”
“Of course they are for you. Really, Akitada, you’re too important a man to travel alone, especially when carrying a report of the type you have prepared for His Majesty.”
Akitada saw the sense of that and expressed his thanks. Mounting the horse they brought for him, he thanked Kosehira again and rode away in great pomp and circumstance.
∞
The Sugawara home, slightly shabby and ever in need of repairs, received him, if not with the luxuries he had become accustomed to, at least with the warmth of familiarity and the joyful cries of the children. Akitada passed around some silver to his escort and dismissed them.
Then he dismounted, returned Genba’s happy smile, waved to Tora, and scooped up his children for a hug. They were full of questions and stories, but acquiesced when Tamako’s little maid came to take them away. Tora waited to greet him.
Akitada searched his face and decided that the rest had done him some good. He still looked drawn and tired, but his eyes were less dull and he flashed his usual smile.
“Welcome, sir. We didn’t expect you until the end of the week.”
Yes, that had been the plan before his foolish desire for a lovely young girl had sent him rushing away. “We finished yesterday,” he said in explanation and without mentioning that he had worked long hours to be done so soon. “I’ve missed my family,” he said, hoping to cheer himself up.
“What? His Excellency, the governor, and his lovely daughter haven’t been able to detain you?” Tora teased.
Akitada turned away. “I have work to do here. Where’s Saburo?”
“He’s coming. Twisted an ankle so he’s a bit slow these days.”
Akitada looked and saw Saburo making his way toward him on two crutches. “That looks bad,” he said. “Are you sure it’s just a minor thing?”
“Oh, yes.”
Akitada hastened to meet Saburo to save him some painful steps. “Are you going to be all right, Saburo?” he asked, searching his face. He thought he looked feverish, but with all that facial hair and makeup it was hard to tell.
Saburo grimaced. “Welcome home, sir. Sorry, I twisted my foot. It will make me a tad slower than usual. I’ll be ready to go over the accounts or take down any letters you may want to send.”
“Yes. Actually I do have some business to take care of. Take your time. I’ll have a bath and change first.
Saburo hobbled off in the direction of the main house. Akitada shook his head and remarked to Tora, “How will he manage the stairs?”
They watched as Saburo made his way up, hopping on one leg and holding both crutches in one hand while the other clutched the stair rail.
Tora released a breath. “There. He made it. You can trust Saburo to do what is needed.”
“Yes, but he seems very badly off for just having twisted an ankle.” Akitada shook his head again. “How is everything else? Has anything happened I should know about?”
“All is well, sir.” Tora smiled. “We’re glad you’re back.”
∞
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Akitada spent time with the children and exchanged a few words with the women. Hanae was her old cheerful self, and Mrs. Kuruda had her usual complaints.
“I don’t know, sir,” she said almost immediately after greeting him, “I do my best to keep my eye on things, but it isn’t easy. Yoshi fell out of a tree and scraped his arm, Yasuko doesn’t seem to take any interest in learning to sew, and my clumsy son twists his ankle and won’t let me put hot compresses on it. Sometimes I think nobody pays any attention to what I tell them.”
Akitada said soothingly, “I’m sure they all benefit from your wisdom, Mrs. Kuruda.”
She sniffed and bustled off to see about his dinner, no doubt much to the dismay of the cook.
In his study, Akitada went over the accounts with Saburo. His salary had continued during his special assignment and his people had managed so well in his absence that he had more money than when he left. He praised Saburo and then dismissed him to rest his leg.
After a midday meal, which he took with the children, he changed into his good robe and carried his report to the Daidairi where he delivered it to the prime minister’s secretary. Afterward, he called on Fujiwara Kaneie in the Ministry of Justice.
The minister was very pleased to see him. No doubt work that was beyond Kaneie and any of the others in the ministry had stacked up in his absence. But Kaneie had the good manners to enquire about Akitada’s work in Otsu and received a copy of the report with great interest.
“Well,” he said with a smile, “I knew you’d put a stop to the greed of those monks. I hope you made your comments suitably strong. They have too many supporters at court.”
Akitada nodded. “I agree and I think I made it quite strong enough. Though it was mainly their misdeeds that made my case.”
“Excellent.” Kaneie eyed the fat report with a slight frown. “Good work as always. And we’ll be very glad to have you back, but no need to start today. Take the weekend off. You deserve a rest.”
It was afternoon by then and weekends were always days of rest, but Akitada expressed his thanks and departed before Kaneie could change his mind.
His next visit was to his friend Nakatoshi in the Ministry of Ceremonial. Nakatoshi cocked his head and eyed him. “I notice a new energy in your bearing. Is this entirely due to a chore well done or have you by chance met a pretty lady?”
Akitada laughed and blushed. “No, no,” he lied. “But I did come across some interesting murders.”
Nakatoshi was easily distracted and listened with interest to Akitada’s account of the killer who left Jizo statues on his victims. “Will you go back to identify the murderer?” he asked.
“No. Kaneie has work for me here. The Otsu chief is a very good man, though. He’ll get him.”
They parted, promising to meet soon for a meal at Nakatoshi’s house.
Akitada’s next and final call was to Superintendant Kobe of the Metropolitan Police. After years of strained relations between the police official and Akitada, the justice ministry official who dabbled in crime, the two men had become good friends. Like Akitada, Kobe was alone now, but with a difference.
During his political troubles, he had lost his heart to a blind shampoo girl, and his wives had taken things very badly. One had become a nun rather than to live with a man who had offended both his superiors and society, and the other had taken the children and retired to Kobe’s country estate. Neither she nor his children wanted to see him. Kobe had regained his position, but he now lived alone in his house in the capital.
As it was still daylight, Akitada went to police headquarters and found Kobe in, busy as usual, but very pleased to see him.
“Akitada!” he cried. “Back already? Was Otsu not to your liking or did those cursed monks drive you away?”
Akitada smiled. “On the co
ntrary. I finished my report and have just delivered it to the prime minister. Still, they have caused us some trouble.” He told Kobe about their attack on Tora and how he had managed to free Tora and arrest the ringleader, only to have a large group of sohei attack the Omi tribunal and set their prisoner free.
“Those godless thugs are a menace,” Kobe snarled. “I recall the last time they descended from their mountain into the capital. They were carrying the mikoshi of the gods, but they were armed and ready to fight. I had to call up all of my men, and the court sent the imperial guard, useless though those youngsters are, and we would have had a bloodbath and a burning city if the chancellor hadn’t made concessions.”
“I remember. I regret very much that Tora’s attacker escaped. He and others had been torturing and raping the populace for months. But our report gives the government enough evidence of their dangerous behavior that both Enryaku-ji and Onjo-ji will trim their fighting forces in the future.”
“Good work! And you look much better,” said Kobe.
Akitada wished to return the compliment, but Kobe looked tired and older. On an impulse, he invited him to dinner at his house. “I think they are planning a special meal. It would give me great joy to have you share it with me.”
Kobe seemed moved by the invitation and accepted. They chatted a while longer. Akitada told Kobe of the case of the Jizo killer and caught a spark of the old enthusiasm in Kobe’s eyes. Kobe said, “I’m very glad you’re back, Akitada,” and embraced him when they parted.
Akitada returned home and made arrangements to entertain Kobe. Then he looked in on the children again. They had planned to share the meal with him, and he found himself again disappointing them. Yasuko said nothing, but Yoshi burst out with, “You’re always too busy for us.”
Akitada looked at him and nodded. “Yes, I have been so busy, too busy. I’m very sorry.”
Yoshi was not done. “You said we could go to the shrine festival.”
“I know.”
Silence fell while both children looked at him accusingly.
“Look,” he said finally, “perhaps we can still attend the shrine festival if we leave here very early and return the same night.”
“Oh, yes!” Yoshi shouted and embraced his knees.
Yasuko was laughing with pleasure. “Yes, please, Father! It would be such an adventure! May I tell Yuki?”
Akitada nodded. They would have to go like ordinary visitors and hope that word would not reach Kosehira, who would be deeply offended. He debated sending his friend a message so they might meet at the festival but rejected it. Kosehira would insist that they stay at his villa.
Kobe arrived and seemed in better spirits. Cook had outdone herself and Akitada and Kobe dined on a delicious meal of fresh prawns, stuffed dumplings, fried tofu, boiled eggs, grilled sea bream, and rice balls stuffed with pickled plums and wrapped in seaweed.
During the meal, Akitada asked how Kobe was getting along on his own.
Kobe looked down at his tray of food and said glumly, “We live as simply as we can. With one old servant. Sachi is saving money for my children.”
“But surely that’s not necessary. Your wives and children are well provided for.”
“Yes, they are. I want to see my children, but my wives have made that impossible.”
Akitada pressed no further. He was appalled. Had Kobe been such an ogre in his household, or had he married three ogres?
“How is Sachi?”
Kobe’s tired face broke into a smile. “She’s expecting our child. I cannot tell you how much joy she has given me.”
“I’m very glad. Congratulations! How soon will you be a father again?”
“Three more months.” Kobe paused, then asked, “When will you marry again, Akitada?”
His heart twisting, Akitada said, “I don’t know. I miss Tamako. And I’m not sure it would be fair to bring another woman into my settled family life.”
“You’ve always been good at it. Marriage, I mean. Tamako was a great wife. I was half in love with her myself. I think you should take another wife. Children need mothers.”
Akitada thought of Yukiko, nineteen years old and not long past childhood herself. She had been very good with her younger siblings, but would she have taken to his own, much quieter household? Would the children have taken to her?
Such thoughts led nowhere. Fleetingly he remembered that other woman he had loved deeply. She was closer to his own age and had children of her own, but she had rejected his offer. Should he seek her out and ask her again?
There was an interruption at this point. Tora brought in a letter.
“A messenger from Otsu, sir. It’s from Chief Takechi. I thought you might want to see it right away.”
Apologizing to Kobe, who looked interested, Akitada opened the letter.
Takechi reported that the merchant Fumi Tokiari had been found bludgeoned to death. A small Jizo had rested on his chest.
Chapter Thirty
Otsu Again
Takechi had not requested his help, but Kosehira did in short order. He sounded upset in the letter delivered by an official messenger from the tribunal. Phrases like “shocking murder of an important businessman,” “rumors abound that a killer is loose,” and “the shrine festival is in two days” suggested that he was at wits’ end and in need of help.
With the free weekend ahead, Akitada had his horse saddled and, taking Tora with him, set out for Otsu again.
One benefit of his stay in Otsu had been a marked improvement in his physical health. He was no longer tired out by long rides and felt stronger in every way. But his conscience troubled him again. Another man had died because he had not stopped a killer. He had liked the merchant Fumi, a modest, unassuming man who was soft-spoken and quiet until roused to anger by a foul accusation against his brother. And now he was dead also. Akitada could not grasp the reason for this killing and wracked his brain all the way to Otsu.
Perhaps there was no reason any longer. Perhaps the killer had learned to enjoy killing. They said there were such men, men who were not by nature brutal but who got a thrill from the fact that they had killed and got away with it. Murder made them feel invulnerable, almost godlike in their powers over life and death. Akitada noted that Fumi and Sukemichi, unlike the other victims, had not been bad men. Surely their only offense had been that they were loosely connected to the fate of Hatta Hiroshi, the Taira betto.
A very dangerous man, this killer.
In front of the tribunal he found an unruly crowd. The big gates were closed and guarded by a contingent of armed soldiers. Akitada made his way through, hearing to his dismay shouts of “There goes another one,” “Got the killer yet?” and “Lazy officials!”
Fear will make people believe all sorts of tales. No wonder, Kosehira had sounded concerned in his letter.
Admitted to the tribunal, Akitada turned his tired horse over to a groom and walked up to the main hall. Kosehira was in his office, dictating to a clerk. Other clerks were wielding their brushes, making copies.
“Akitada!” cried the governor, jumping to his feet. “You made very good time. Thank you for coming. You saw the state of affairs?”
“Yes. It seems rather sudden. Could the rumors have been started by someone in order to make trouble?”
Kosehira looked astonished. “But who would do this?” He paused. “You don’t mean that this is Enryaku-ji’s revenge?”
“Perhaps not. That would have been directed against me. It just seems strange that the rumors spread so fast. Unless you have other plans, I think I’ll go talk to Takechi and have a look at the body.”
“Yes, that might be useful. Not much doubt who did it, is there?”
“No. Though I don’t understand why. But clearly we must find him fast.”
“Yes. The festival is in two days. Any disturbance then would bring the entire court down on me.”
Akitada nodded.
“You will stay tonight?”
“If
it becomes necessary. Thank you, Kosehira.”
∞
Takechi received him with similar relief. Akitada wished people did not place so much confidence in him. Disappointment was sure to follow.
Takechi outlined what he had learned. Fumi Tokiari had been alone in the house, his family and the servants all having gone to a neighborhood shrine at the end of the street. The merchant had stayed behind to work on his books, but had promised to join them later. When he did not show up after quite a while, his son sent a servant who found his master dead in his office.
“With a Jizo,” Takechi added dryly.
“Yes. And I take it there was another shrine fair.”
Takechi nodded. “Just a very small one, but it was their family shrine.”
Let’s have a look at the body.”
Fumi Tokiari had been brought to police headquarters for the coroner to have a look at it. They found Doctor Kimura washing his hands after his examination.
“Same as the others,” he said when he saw them. “Knocked unconscious, fairly violently, and strangled. He managed to break the neck this time. I’d say the attacks are becoming more severe.”
Akitada nodded. Another hint that the killings were no longer just personal and that the killer was changing. The crowds outside the tribunal and Takechi’s office were not far wrong in their fear.
They left police headquarters—to more jeering shouts—and walked to the merchant’s house. On the way, they passed the small shrine at the corner where remnants of the fair still littered the street. Torn paper flags, bits of rice straw, discarded fans, and a few paper umbrellas, broken and left behind, gave a colorful impression of the activities that had distracted everyone’s attention from an old man being murdered a few houses up the street.
Takechi confirmed this. His constables had interviewed all the neighbors and servants and none had seen or heard anything.
They were admitted to the merchant’s house by a servant in the hemp clothing of a family in mourning. The shop part of the building was shuttered. Inside it was dim and silent, but when they had followed the servant to the back of the house, they could hear children’s voices.
