The Emperor's Woman (Akitada Mysteries) Page 14

  “You. And when he didn’t get any help from me, he asked for Bashan or Kenko. What did you tell him?”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Good looking. Nice clean clothes. Lots of teeth.”

  Tora.

  Saburo’s heart warmed a little until it occurred to him that Tora’s errand might not have been friendly in nature. The beggars stared at him with undisguised displeasure. He said, “He’s a friend who took me in. I had to tell him what happened. He doesn’t mean you any harm. He likes beggars.”

  Jinsai growled, “You’d better be careful what you say. There are people here who get very nervous about being found.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t know he’d come. It won’t happen again.”

  There was a brief silence, then one of the old men asked, “Join us in a game?”

  Saburo couldn’t refuse. “Just for a little while.”

  They watched him counting out twenty coppers. “I’m a poor man,” he said in explanation of the meager offering.

  One of the old men guffawed. “You’re thief. You’ll just steal more when that runs out.”

  “How would you know what I do for a living?” Saburo demanded, affronted.

  They all grinned knowingly.

  “Bashan knows about these things,” Jinsai announced. “He told us.”

  Saburo thought of protesting some more but saw it wouldn’t help his case. They believed whatever Bashan told them. Bashan’s service to their community had given him at least as much standing here as the priest Kenko. So he laughed it off as a joke and concentrated on the game. He was rewarded with a couple of wins and relaxed a little.

  “So, Jinsai,” he asked, as the dice passed to another player, “I recall you told me someone was walking away from me just before you found me. I’ve been thinking about that. I think he must be the one that attacked me. He stole something from me, and I’d like to get it back. So I’m hoping you’ll help me find him. It was a man, was it?”

  Jinsai stared at him. Then he shook his head. “I saw nothing.”

  “You said you saw a man.”

  “I saw nothing.”

  One of the old men snapped, “Play or go elsewhere if you just want to chat.”

  The friendly atmosphere had changed. He was no longer welcome. Saburo stayed a little longer, losing all of his stake, and then returned to Mrs. Komiya’s.

  The Grand Lady

  Akitada had planned to speak to Kobe again, taking with him the list of suspects Tokuzo’s mother had given him. Surely Kobe must agree to release Genba and his girlfriend while the police investigated the murder further.

  But then Kosehira arrived in a carriage to take him to his cousin, the prince’s wife.

  Akitada was torn. Tora had accused him of helping his friend Kosehira before his own retainers. There was the implied charge that he, Akitada, would always prefer his own kind over a common man, even if he was part of his family. And a nobleman’s retainers considered themselves part of his family, bound to him by their service and loyalty. To forget this was, in Tora’s eyes, shameful.

  He admitted to himself that Tora was right. He had responsibilities to those who served him. Both Tora and Genba had risked their lives fighting for him, and Tora had saved Akitada’s life several times in the past. But Akitada also had obligations to Kosehira. Besides, Genba had got himself involved in the unsavory murder of a brothel owner through his own questionable pursuits.

  In the end, Akitada donned his best silk robe and court hat and climbed into Kosehira’s carriage. He felt guilty, but he looked forward with much greater interest to meeting Lady Kishi than to another unpleasant encounter with Superintendent Kobe.

  The imperial guard was still posted at the prince’s gates but they recognized Kosehira’s carriage and let it pass into the entrance courtyard. When Kosehira explained his visit was to his cousin, they had no objections. A servant was dispatched and returned after a short while with the prince’s majordomo, an older man with a stiff manner, wearing a very formal dark silk robe and hat.

  With a bow, he announced in a high voice, “Her highness is pleased to receive you, my lord.”

  The carriage was backed up to the gallery of the main house. Kosehira and Akitada stepped out of its back and followed the majordomo through several halls and along some galleries to the north pavilion, the traditional living quarters of the owner’s senior wife. There he threw open the carved double doors, revealing a large and well-lit room where a number of women bustled about, setting up screens and removing small children. It was a domestic scene, but one so elegant it might as well have played out in the emperor’s palace.

  The room’s appointments were extremely rich. The screens had been painted lavishly with flowers and grasses, birds and small animals; the grass mats of double thickness had a purple silk trim; wide bands of silk brocade trimmed the green reed curtains; and all the furnishings and utensils had been chosen for their beauty and rarity.

  Prince Atsuhira’s ranking wife sat behind hastily assembled screens, surrounded by her gowns in fold upon fold of lustrous silk in shades ranging from deepest forest green to a pale rose. She hid her face behind a costly fan, but Akitada saw the almond-shaped eyes rested on him longer than on her cousin.

  Kosehira was not impressed by pomp and circumstance. “Hello, Kishi,” he greeted the grand lady unceremoniously. “I’ve brought Akitada. Thought you’d be curious to meet him after all the years of my bragging about him.” He kicked two cushions into place and said, “Sit down, Akitada, before her eyes bore a hole through you.”

  “Always the same, Kosehira,” said Lady Kishi in a soft voice. “Rude and unmannerly. Lord Sugawara, you must ignore my cousin. He has had no upbringing at all. Please be seated. Will you take refreshments?”

  Akitada bowed, sat, and murmured a polite refusal.

  Kosehira rubbed his hands. “Never mind him. Of course we want some of that good wine your husband got from Kyushu. And maybe a few of those little fried things your cook makes so well.”

  The lady gestured to two of her attendants who ran to carry out her command. “What brings you?” she asked. “You visit me so seldom I must assume it has something to do with the trouble you and my husband are in.”

  When she had turned her head to her attendants, Akitada could see her profile for a moment. All of the chancellor’s daughters were considered exquisite beauties, but he saw nothing beyond a conventional appearance. Heavily made up with white paste, coal-black mascara, and painted brows, she seemed merely round-faced, though her hair was very thick and glossy.

  Kosehira chuckled. “Good for you, Kishi. Get right to the point. Yes, I thought we’d better get your husband out of the muddle he’s in. You seemed the obvious ally.”

  She raised her fan and laughed, a gentle, tinkling sound like clear water splashing over small rocks. “You know I can do nothing. I’m a mere woman. It is men who do things in this world. Women merely wait and bear the consequences.”

  Akitada suppressed a snort. The lady had a reputation for meddling in affairs of state. Her entire marriage had been marked by repeated efforts of putting her husband on the throne.

  Kosehira would have none of it either. “You’d better rethink your position, Cousin. As your husband goes, so go you and your children. Given the fact that Atsuhira is a favorite among the people, the present charges will go away if you speak to your father and uncles. They cannot want to damage the family’s reputation further by persecuting the one potential heir who has popular support.”

  A clever argument. Akitada looked at Kosehira with new eyes. Even if Kishi’s ambitions to become empress had been foiled, there were still her children. Prince Atsuhira had fathered two sons and a daughter with his first lady. The sons would expect court ranks, and the daughter was in line to become an empress someday.

  “My husband gives little thought to his children,” she pointed out with a glance at Akitada. “He spends his time mourning someone who has no claim on him in
stead of defending himself against these ridiculous charges.”

  “Precisely. With your help Akitada and I hope to wake him to his responsibilities.”

  Lady Kishi was silent for a long while. Then she asked, “What do you think I can do?”

  Akitada decided to speak. “Your ladyship has access to the imperial apartments. Can you arrange a meeting between me and someone who was close to the Lady Masako before she left the palace?”

  Lady Kishi glanced at him. Her fan moved more rapidly. “Why should I do such an extraordinary thing?”

  “I believe the Lady Masako may have been murdered by the prince’s enemies. If so, her friends may have useful information.” Akitada had no proof of this, but it was a possibility, and the only one he could think of that might weigh with Lady Kishi.”

  She hissed her surprise. “Murder? How do you hope to prove such a thing? The police say she took her own life.”

  “The police consider the death suspicious.” Akitada hoped she knew of his past collaboration with Kobe and would believe him.

  There was another silence, then she said, “What you ask is impossible. No lady in the imperial service would agree to meet a man secretly, let alone discuss palace matters.”

  Kosehira laughed out loud. “Oh, come, Kishi. You know that’s ridiculous. For one thing, Lady Masako herself managed quite well to meet with your husband.”

  She bristled. “What can you expect from such a person?”

  “Must it be secret?” asked Akitada. “Is there not a way in which a lady might speak to me without damaging her reputation? What about Lady Masako’s attendants? I assure you, I’ve never caused any scandals of the sort you fear.”

  Kosehira added, “Akitada is the most boring fellow I know. He dotes on his wife.”

  Lady Kishi eyed Akitada over her fan. “You have only one wife?” she asked.

  Not sure if she would hold the fact against him, Akitada admitted it.

  “But you have mistresses.”

  “No mistresses.”

  Kosehira cast up his eyes and shook his head.

  “You see?” said Lady Kishi, turning to her cousin. “Not all men are like my husband.” She paused. “That is, if your friend tells the truth.”

  “Oh, it’s the truth, Cousin.” Kosehira grinned. “He leads a very dull life. He works all day and plays with his children at night.”

  Somehow this little exchange, though embarrassing to Akitada, broke the impasse. Lady Kishi turned back to him and said, “Very well. I’ll see what I can find out. But it will not be easy.”

  Kosehira clapped his hands. “I knew you had a clear head, Kishi. And, by the heavens, we’re glad to have you for an ally.” He rose.

  Akitada also got to his feet.

  Lady Kishi looked up at them. “Please understand I do this for my children and no one else.”

  Kosehira positively bounced with delight. He seemed to think all their troubles would now disappear in no time at all. Akitada was not so optimistic. Lady Kishi could be very helpful, but he still had no clue how or why Lady Masako had died. And until her murder was solved, he doubted Prince Atsuhira could be cleared of the charge of treason.

  They parted on Nijo Avenue, Kosehira to return home, and Akitada to his office in the Ministry of Justice. He had been missing too much time from his work, and even a tolerant superior like Fujiwara Kaneie might lose patience.

  He spent the next hours working feverishly through paperwork that had stacked up, dictating letters and comments to his clerk, sending junior clerks on searches for documents and precedents, and reporting to Kaneie about the disposition of a tax case..

  But in the back of his mind hovered a dark cloud. Genba was in jail and wanted to leave his service. Saburo was homeless and would soon go hungry. His family was shrinking, and those closest to him had lost faith in him. What troubled Akitada most was that both Genba and Saburo had put their trust in him, and he had disappointed them.

  When it was getting dark enough to light the oil lamps, Akitada’s patience and his back rebelled. He got up and stretched. Then he gave his clerk instructions for the next day and left for the jail, hoping to reassure Genba of his support.

  He was not allowed to see him. The supervisor looked apologetic but said he had orders not to allow visitors in the future.

  This sent Akitada to Kobe’s office. The superintendent was in, but Akitada spent some time waiting in the corridor. The experience humiliated him and proved their changed relationship. Kobe no longer treated him as a trusted friend but rather as a suspicious character whose rank did not require any courtesies. But Genba’s fate was more important than his pride, and Akitada said nothing about the delay when he finally found himself face to face with Kobe. Kobe had also been working late and looked irritable.

  Not a good beginning.

  Akitada said somewhat stiffly, “Forgive the interruption, but I have some new information about the murder of the brothel keeper Tokuzo.”

  Kobe stared back, unsmiling. “Yes?”

  “I have spoken with his mother. She admits now there was no theft of gold. Only the contracts were taken. She also supplied a list of names of several women who worked for her son and had been mistreated. These women and their male friends or husbands had good reason to want Tokuzo dead.” He pulled out the list and handed it to Kobe. “I think the police should investigate these people. The killer might be among them.”

  Kobe frowned at the scratches Tokuzo’s mother had produced. “In that business, you always find people with grudges,” he said, dropping the paper on his desk.

  Akitada bristled. “You mean you’ll do nothing to solve the case?”

  “Not at all. We have two suspects, and we aren’t finished interrogating them.”

  Akitada gasped audibly at this. “You are torturing Genba to get a confession?”

  Kobe glared. “I don’t like your choice of words, Lord Sugawara. We do not use torture.”

  “You used to. Why should I think you won’t do so again?” Akitada clenched his fists and took a step forward. “This is not some thief or robber you’ve arrested. This is Genba. You know Genba isn’t violent, and Genba doesn’t lie. He will not confess to a crime he didn’t commit. If you keep beating him to get a confession, you will be torturing an innocent man.”

  Kobe turned away. “We have nothing more to discuss, and I’m very busy.”

  “I want to see Genba. They turned me away at the jail. Your orders?”

  “For the time being. Good night, sir.”

  A New Ally

  Akitada was too depressed to spend the night with Tamako. He did not want to talk about the way he felt, and he would have to do that if he told her about his visit to Kobe. Therefore he pretended to have brought work home with him, sat late in his room, and eventually spread some bedding there for the night.

  He slept poorly and was up again at dawn, pacing the floor and turning over in his mind all sorts of impractical schemes for rescuing Genba. He was impatient to speak to Tora, to see if he had been able to find Saburo.

  Eventually, he could not wait any longer and went to look for him. To his surprise and irritation, Tora and Yuki, his son, were kicking a football back and forth as if they didn’t have a care in the world. He did not think it was proper to discuss Saburo or Genba before the child, so he glowered and said pointedly, “Good Morning.”

  Tora dropped the ball, which made Yuki claim victory.

  “I didn’t know you were up already.” Tora looked apologetic.

  Good.

  Yuki, flushed with triumph and in the knowledge that Akitada was quite fond of him, cried, “Sir, will you play? It’s no fun with just two players. Oh, and can Yasuko come and play?”

  Akitada prided himself on his skill at kemari, but football was a man’s game. Why would his dainty little daughter be expected to play? “Yasuko surely doesn’t know how to play,” he said.

  “Oh, but she does,” cried Yuki. “She’s almost as good as I am.”
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  Akitada smiled and was about to explain that boys and girls played different games, when Tora said with a laugh, “She’s better. She beat you soundly the other day, Yuki.”

  Akitada looked at them blankly, “I had no idea.” Suddenly he was aware of how little time he spent with his children. He saw the eager face of the boy and said, “Well, let me go see if she’s up.”

  She was. Squealing with delight, she took off her skirt and, dressed only in shirt and trousers, ran off to join Tora and Yuki.

  Tamako sat before her mirror and smiled. Akitada said, “I didn’t know she played kemari. Do you approve?”

  “Why not? They are children. Children should run and play as much as possible.”

  “But she’s a girl.”

  Tamako raised her brows. “I don’t think kicking a ball is beyond her capabilities.”

  “Perhaps not, but is it … seemly?” He thought of Lady Masako, who had been taught a man’s skills by her father and lost her chance at becoming an empress.

  Tamako said firmly, “Of course. They’re at home and not in the street outside.”

  Akitada left, shaking his head. To his amazement, Yasuko proved an agile and skillful player.

  But the game with Tora and the children depressed him further. He had not had any vigorous exercise for some time and was quickly out of breath, dropping the ball several times. The thought crossed his mind that he and Tora should practice with the fighting staffs again.

  But of course more serious matters lingered in the back of his mind.

  Eventually, they left the children to their own play and went to Akitada’s study, where Akitada asked, “Any news of Saburo?”

  “No, sir. I’ve searched the markets and even went to the beggars’ lair. I thought he might have gone back there because they took him in.”

  “Yes. Good point. And?”

  “Nothing, sir. They clammed up and told me I was unwelcome. Some crazy old man in women’s clothes sent you a message, though.”

  “Really? Did you talk about me?”