The Crane Pavillion Page 10

  “The swine,” muttered Tora.

  “Go on,” said Saburo, who wanted to find out what happened on the day of the murder.

  “It was difficult,” she said, bowing her head some more. “Nakamura-san insisted on touching me and he wanted me touch him. I said something about getting some special oil and ran out of the room. I went to Jinzaemon and said I couldn’t do what Nakamura-san wanted, but Jinzaemon sent me back in. He said I had to finish the session, and after that I could leave. So I went back into the room. I think I made some excuse. There was no answer, and there was a smell. I reached for the towel on Nakamura-san’s head, but he had fallen forward.” She gulped and stopped.

  “Was he dead?”

  Sachi nodded. She murmured, “I felt for him. There was blood. I touched it. A lot of blood. I thought maybe he’d had a nosebleed. Sometimes bathers cannot take the heat and their noses start bleeding. I think I asked him if he needed help. He didn’t answer. Then I put my hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t react, and I got scared. I shouted for help and tried to lift him up. I got a lot of blood on me then.” She shuddered.

  “You had just finished shaving him?” Tora asked.

  “No. I’d only washed his hair.”

  Tora exchanged a glance with Saburo and asked, “You mean you left him there with the towel wrapped around his head?”

  She nodded.

  “Was anyone outside the room when you left? I take it, there are ways to recognize people without being able to see them.”

  “Sometimes. I can smell some of them. Others have a certain way of walking and I can tell by their footfall.”

  Saburo had been content to leave the questions to Tora as a gesture of gratitude for his help. But he could not restrain himself any longer. “In that case, do you remember anyone near the room when you stepped outside to fetch the oil? Or did you meet someone in the corridor?”

  She frowned, trying to remember. “There was someone, maybe more than one. I recall smelling a scent. Jinzaemon was down the corridor and asked me what I was doing. I have a notion that there was some other man there also. Perhaps he was waiting to be my next customer. Do you think the killer was outside the room, waiting for me to leave? But how could he have known I would go to get some oil? I only did this because Nakamura-san’s attentions were becoming obnoxious.”

  “Yes,” said Saburo. “We know, but this person could have been waiting for you to finish.”

  “Oh,” she whispered. “How terrible! And yet I wish he had waited.”

  “Never mind!” Tora said cheerfully. “We’ll do our best to find out who really killed Nakamura.

  “Thank you,” she said, bowing deeply and wiping away her tears.

  13

  A Hopeless Case

  Akitada was on his way out when Tora and Saburo returned. They met in the courtyard. Akitada, still chafing from the many ways he had been manipulated by his people, his friends, and his own sister, glowered at them.

  Saburo shrank back, but Tora, not easily discouraged by his master’s moods, grinned, flashing his fine teeth. “A chilly day, sir. Winter may be early this year. We’re just back from speaking to the superintendent. Seems Saburo here is on the trail of a vicious killer.”

  Akitada shot Saburo another resentful look. “I told him to leave it to the police,” he snapped.

  Tora chuckled. “I can’t believe my ears, sir. That’s not been our custom in the past. You’ve caught many a killer the police would’ve let get away. We talked to Sachi—with the superintendent’s permission—and it looks like someone pinned the murder on the blind girl, sir. She’s frightened and lost.”

  Akitada glanced at the gray sky. He hoped it would not rain again. He was in his best court robe and hat. “I’m on my way to the ministry,” he said. And on more unpalatable visits to regain my income, he thought. “I cannot be bothered with this. Since you’ve talked to Kobe, it seems to me you can now leave it to him. And I’ll remind you not to make remarks about the incompetence of the imperial police. It isn’t true and will lose us Kobe’s friendship.”

  With this he brushed by Tora and walked out through the gate.

  The halls and streets of the Daidairi greeted him like a soldier returning from frontier service. It felt at once familiar and strange. He saw no familiar faces, and people passed without a greeting. He felt awkward and embarrassed when he walked into the ministry. A young servant was sweeping the corridor and did not recognize him. Akitada had already become a stranger.

  To his credit, the youngster leaned the broom against the wall and came to greet Akitada with a bow. “May I announce you, sir?” he asked in a voice that had not quite broken yet.

  “I’m Sugawara Akitada. Would you let the minister know that I’m here to see him?”

  The youngster shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. His Excellency is not available. May I take you to someone else?”

  The boy had memorized his little speech well, but Kaneie’s method of keeping interruptions to a minimum was causing a problem. Akitada knew the minister was in. If he had not been, the boy would have said so.

  “Please just tell him I’m here,” he told the youngster.

  “I shall announce you to Senior Secretary Sakanoue. Just a moment.”

  He scampered off before Akitada could stop him. Senior Secretary Sakanoue? They had replaced him already. He searched his mind for Sakanoue and failed to remember him. Perhaps he was a provincial official who had been given Akitada’s position.

  He decided not to stand about to be further embarrassed and walked quickly toward Kaneie’s office. As he passed the archives someone inside noticed him. He heard him call out but did not stop. Excited chatter followed him to Kaneie’s door, where a senior servant stood guard. This man recognized Akitada.

  Before he could speak to the man, someone hurried up behind him.

  “A moment, sir,” said a clipped voice.

  Akitada turned to see a pale, tall man in elegant silk robes. He was younger than Akitada and had a hard glint in his eyes. “You are Sugawara?” he demanded.

  Akitada nodded.

  “I did not give it credence. That boy is an idiot. You should not have come here.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Akitada said. “Do I know you?”

  “Sakanoue. Senior Secretary. Perhaps you’d better come to my office.”

  “Why? I came to see the minister.”

  “Impossible. He will not see you.”

  Akitada stared at the man for a moment, then turned to the servant at the door. “Please announce me, Kunyoshi.

  The servant smiled broadly. “Welcome back, sir,” he said, forgetting to bow in his excitement. “We’ve missed you, sir. It hasn’t been the same.” He shot a glance toward Sakanoue. “Oh, this is a very lucky day!”

  Sakanoue snapped, “You forget yourself, Kunyoshi!”

  The servant’s simple joy moved Akitada greatly after his humbling reception. “It’s very good to see you also, Kunyoshi,” he said. “Do you suppose the minister will see me?”

  “Oh, yes. Just a moment.”

  Kunyoshi opened the door and put his head inside. “Your Excellency, Lord Sugawara is here.” Then he threw it wide.

  Akitada walked in. Kaneie was at his desk, looking startled.

  Sakanoue pushed past Akitada. “I protest, Excellency. I told Lord Sugawara you were busy, but this stupid man defied me and let him in anyway.”

  Kaneie’s face took on an expression of distaste. “I’ll take care of it, Sakanoue. Go away.”

  Sakanoue bowed, gave Akitada a hard look, and walked out.

  “Can’t stand that weasel,” muttered Kaneie. “Sit down, Akitada.”

  Akitada sat. “Has he taken my position?” he asked as calmly as he could manage.

  “Not my doing.” Kaneie gave Akitada a searching look. “How are you?”

  “As well as can be expected. Thank you for your letter. I’m afraid I haven’t answered it. Please accept my apologies. Things have bee
n … difficult.”

  “I can see you’ve been ill. Terrible climate in Kyushu.”

  Akitada did not know what to make of this. “Umm, it wasn’t too bad, as I recall. I left before the summer heat.”

  Kaneie frowned. “Problems at home?”

  “Yes. I’m just beginning to get matters in order.” He reflected that this could not well be achieved unless he had some income. And the fact that Sakanoue now occupied his position did not promise well. “It was my plan to speak to report to Central Affairs to apologize for leaving my post so suddenly.”

  Kaneie looked uneasy. “Forgive me, but why did you leave so suddenly? There have been questions.”

  “But … surely you knew? The assistant governor general in Kyushu had my letter of resignation and must have reported. I left because my wife died.” He swallowed. Saying it was still very hard. My wife died. Three words that could not possibly encompass what the loss had meant, still meant. He added weakly, “My children are still small.”

  Kaneie’s eyes widened. “Yes, but … surely the other ladies … it’s none of my business, but I think it has caused some raised eyebrows among our superiors.”

  For a moment, Akitada did not understand. What other ladies? Then he realized for the first time that most men in his position could not conceive of a man having only one wife and a household too small to cope with her loss. He said quietly, “Tamako was my only wife. There was no one else. I needed to return to take care of my children.” Anger rose again, as it had in Kyushu. He said more sharply, “It seems to me that I did the country a significant service by clearing up the murder of my predecessor in Kyushu. I arrested several individuals who had plotted against the nation and could have involved us in a war with China. The least the chancellor and the senior minister could do was to allow me some time to mourn my wife and look after my children.” He found he was so upset that his hands were shaking and got to his feet. “Thank you for warning me. I see that I have a battle on my hands.”

  Kaneie said, “Please sit down again, Akitada. Don’t rush off in a fit of anger. We must devise some strategy. I’m your friend, you know. I tried to hold your position but was overruled.”

  Akitada subsided onto his cushion. He felt ashamed for having doubted Kaneie, who had always supported him. Yes, they were friends, or at least had been. This matter might well have strained their relationship.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “I forgot for a moment what I owe you. Please let me hear your thoughts on the situation.”

  “Well, you know you’ve always had your detractors in high places. I’m afraid they’ve been very busy. Your friend, Fujiwara Kosehira, has tried to counter the attacks, but he isn’t in the capital and has lost much of his influence. I’m not sure if matters were handled properly by the Dazaifu either. You may have followed procedure by tendering your resignation there, but that news should have reached the Ministry of Central Affairs by now and it hasn’t.”

  Akitada recalled his visits to the Dazaifu and the unorthodox way in which affairs had been handled in Kyushu. This thought was not reassuring.

  “What do you suggest? I suppose I had better go to explain. But to whom?”

  Kaneie pursed his lips. “Hard to say. Your case may have gone to the censors by now.”

  The censors were the dreaded watchdogs of the emperor. They investigated officials, even the highest-ranking ones, when they were suspected of malfeasance in office.

  Akitada said blankly, “The censors? But what have I done wrong?”

  “You left your post.”

  “Yes, but I resigned because I could not desert my family.”

  Kaneie sighed. “I know and I do understand, my dear Akitada, but those in power do not consider that an adequate excuse. Now if you had been too ill to function …” His voice trailed off, and he gave Akitada a sidelong glance.

  “I wasn’t ill. I was mourning my wife.”

  “Hmm. And of course you won’t try to make excuses. Yes. I don’t know, Akitada. It’s difficult. Most of the officials I know would make the round of all their friends and supporters and call in some favors.”

  Appalled, Akitada said, “Favors?”

  “Never mind. Well, I don’t know what to suggest. I suppose you must throw yourself on their mercy. Why not start with Central Affairs? Your appointment for the post in Kyushu originated there.”

  Akitada said nothing. He had already made up his mind to making his apologies, but from what Kaneie said, his case was conceived to be far worse than he had naively supposed. Those in power in the government did not consider the death of a spouse to be cause for more than the customary ritual withdrawal. After that, a man was expected to return to work as if nothing had happened. Furthermore, Akitada had neglected to inform everyone of the death and beg dispensation to attend to his family. He, of all people, should have known to follow the rules.

  Strangely, he felt a little relieved that his own actions had caused the situation. It was better than having undeserved misfortune brought down upon oneself.

  He sighed and said, “You’re quite right. Thank you for being so frank. I will follow your advice.” He paused. “By the way, do you happen to know anything about Abbot Genshin?”

  Kaneie was startled by this change of subject and looked at Akitada uncertainly. “Does this have anything to do with your situation?”

  Akitada smiled. “In case I find myself without an income, I had thought to take up private investigations again, and there has been a rather strange death at the abbot’s residence.”

  “Oh, surely things aren’t going to come to such an end.” But Kaneie’s interest was raised. “When you refer to his residence, I take it you don’t mean the monastery?”

  “No, his mansion here in the city. It seems he has allowed an odd assortment of people to make use of it. One of his guests, a Lady Ogata, has hanged herself.”

  “Lady Ogata?” Kaneie frowned. “It sounds vaguely familiar.” He shook his head. “Sorry. It escapes me. But why investigate a suicide?”

  “It may not have been a suicide. I knew the abbot in his womanizing past, and that has raised certain suspicions in my mind.”

  Kaneie sat up, alarmed. “Oh, you cannot get involved. It will ruin you. Genshin is the special pet of the empress.”

  “Is he? You know that doesn’t surprise me at all. His Majesty had better see to his household, I think.”

  “Akitada, you’re playing with fire. Don’t say such things! Not to anyone!”

  Akitada smiled again and rose. “Thanks, Kaneie, for the warning, but I expect you know me by now. Please try to remember what you know about Lady Ogata. Now I’d better make my report to the Office of Central Affairs.”

  14

  Gossip in the Bath

  Tora ignored his master’s instructions to leave the bathhouse murder to the police. As soon as the gate closed behind Akitada, he said to Saburo, “Let’s go talk to some of the people in the bathhouse. Seems to me, you should have done that right away.”

  Saburo glared at him. “How was I to know there was a killer loose? You may recall at the time I only knew a blind shampoo girl had killed a customer.”

  “Well, chances are the real killer was still hanging about to see what was happening. Some killers do that, you know.”

  Saburo shook his head. “That’s stupid. Seems to me he would have gotten out of there fast.”

  “Not necessarily. Think how much he would have enjoyed watching the police take the blind girl away. Besides we need to know who was there that day. You have the list of those borrowers. Let’s see that.”

  Together they bent over the names provided by Nakamura’s son. Tora had some problems making out the writing, but Saburo helped. Nakamura Junior had put some helpful comments beside each name, such as “sick child,” “father made threats,” “lost his job and cannot pay,” “claims family is starving,” and “well-known criminal.” The poor school master’s name was there. His comment was the one about the starving
family. Apart from the criminal, all of the debtors seemed to be suffering such despair that it was at least possible they would try to end it by killing their tormentor.

  “That Nakamura was a bastard,” said Tora when he had grasped the gist of it. “Let me get some money, and then we’ll go see if any of these people went for a bath that morning.”

  “I’d rather it were Saito.”

  “We can ask about him, too.”

  They found the bathhouse busier than ever. Jinzaemon bustled about, greeting arrivals, chatting with regulars, collecting money.

  His face fell when he saw Saburo. “You again? I hope this time you’ve come for a bath.”

  “We have our own facilities,” Saburo told him. “And you’re not hurting for business. This must be your lucky day.”

  “It won’t last. Most of them are here to look and gossip. They want to see the room where it happened. I’ve started charging them if they don’t stay for a bath or shampoo.”

  Tora grimaced. “That’s disgusting!”

  Jinzaemon gave him a black stare. “And who’re you? What business is it of yours? I’ll have you know I’ve lost the use of that room. People refuse to go in there for a massage or a moxa treatment. In fact, they’re nervous about getting themselves shaved.”

  Saburo tried to calm the man. “That won’t last. People forget quickly. You’ll be doing a better business than ever in no time. I bet you picked up some new customers.”

  Jinzaemon admitted it.

  “Well, we’re interested in your old customers,” said Saburo. “Have a look at this list. Anybody there who’s a regular customer and was here that morning?”

  Jinzaemon looked at the list and frowned. “Why?”

  “Possible witnesses.”

  “Since when do the police send civilians to find witnesses?” countered Jinzaemon, handing back the list. “I’d be out of business fast if I turned in my customers to be questioned by the police. I run a reputable business. That means I protect my customers’ privacy.”

  Tora fished out a couple of silver coins and tossed them casually from hand to hand. Jinzaemon’s eyes flickered his way.