Black Arrow - [Sugawara Akitada 04] Read online

  “Ah!” Oyoshi nodded. “I was afraid there was something brewing in town. You may wonder that I did not warn you, but I am not universally trusted, in spite of my professional repute.”

  “I see. Well, as my coroner you may well find yourself completely ostracized. If you would prefer not to serve, I understand.”

  Oyoshi smiled a little sadly. “Not at all, Excellency. I was surprised and honored by your confidence. And,” he added, pointing to the corpse inside the cell, “my professional curiosity is aroused. There is something odd about that one.”

  “Good!” Akitada said briskly. “But if the rest of your examination can wait a little, I think I would like your opinion on the other body first.”

  “Of course.”

  Tora and Hitomaro had put the dead Uesugi servant in the armory. This building, like the granary, was empty of its customary contents. The old man’s body lay on the floor, covered with a straw mat. Akitada pulled the mat back.

  Oyoshi sucked in his breath. “Hideo! What happened to him?” He fell to his knees beside the body. “Oh, dear. Does the boy know?”

  “No. The youngster asked me to find his grandfather after the funeral yesterday, but Kaibara took the child away before I could ask questions. I remembered hearing a cry when I was in the west gallery during the banquet, so we went to Takata and had a look. The body was at the foot of the cliff below the north pavilion. I expect Uesugi will claim it was a suicide.”

  Oyoshi shook his head. “Hideo would never commit suicide. He dotes on his little grandson. Excuse me.” He made a quick but thorough examination. When he was done, he rose.

  “Poor Hideo,” he murmured. “He died from the fall all right. Most of his bones are broken. But the injuries to the face suggest that he was beaten shortly—very shortly—before his death. I regret that there is no physical evidence of murder, but I would stake my life on it that it was not suicide.”

  Akitada nodded. “Thank you. It is as I thought. Please put your findings about both bodies in separate reports. I shall call you during this afternoon’s hearing.”

  When they returned to the main courtyard, the fishmonger and his friends had gone, but Tora was back. He was talking to Hitomaro. They came up quickly, and Hitomaro said, “We’d like to follow that fellow Goto.”

  “What is on your minds?”

  Tora said, “Hito thinks that bastard was lying.”

  Hitomaro explained, “That dead man’s never been a soldier. And if Goto lied about the corpse, it follows that he’s in on the plot, sir. He’ll lead us to the person who composed the note.”

  “Possibly, but I doubt it,” Akitada said. “He arrived here rather late for that. Perhaps he just took advantage of the incident for his own purposes. But you had better go to the garrison and ask some questions about this Ogai. I can manage with Tora for the hearing this afternoon.”

  ♦

  Akitada was nervous about the hearing, his first official public duty. That in itself was miserable enough for a man who hated to attract attention to himself. But in this case, he also had to make a good impression in order to sway the local people to his side. He quaked at the thought of all those eyes on him, all those ears primed to catch him in some error of procedure or slip of the tongue. He had to remind himself of his duty, of his oath to serve the emperor to the best of his ability, of his education and training, of his good intentions.

  At the sound of the great gong, he rose from behind his desk, straightened his dark blue court robe, adjusted his black cap of stiffened gauze, and put the flat wooden baton of office in his belt. Assuming what he hoped was a dignified mien, he walked down the corridor. A hum of voices greeted him when he stepped around the screen and onto the dais at the north end of the tribunal hall.

  People filled the dim space to capacity, pushing, pressing, simmering with excitement, barely subdued by a pitifully small number of constables placed strategically around the room. Tora stood to his left, keeping an eye on things. His full suit of armor had been polished till it gleamed in the light of the candles and torches.

  Akitada looked into the sullen or angry or merely avid faces of the citizens of Naoetsu and considered the irony of having wished for a modest turnout only yesterday. Now he had to contend with a hostile multitude.

  He turned his mind to the task ahead. Best to forget about impressing these people with the sacred power of justice and concentrate on business. Announce the discovery of two new bodies and then deal with the innkeeper’s murder quickly before someone had time to start trouble.

  Tora bellowed, “His Excellency, the governor. Bow!” Akitada watched as over a hundred men and women went down onto their hands and knees before him and put their foreheads on the floor.

  The view of so many bent backs overwhelmed him. Shivering from the chill air and nerves, he arranged his face in an impassive mask and seated himself quickly on the cushion in the center of the dais, glancing first to his immediate left, where Hamaya and his assistants knelt behind three identical low desks with paper and writing implements, and then to his right, where Seimei, his own secretary, presided over the official seal and judicial mandates.

  At Akitada’s nod, Seimei began the reading of the Imperial Directive, composed more than three hundred years ago. It empowered the governor of a province to hear and decide difficult legal cases. As a young student at the university, Akitada had had to memorize this text, but today the beauty and propriety of the August Words struck him most forcibly.

  A wide gulf separates the throne from the people, but a diligent governor is the bridge between them.

  Let him ascertain and verify guilt, redress wrongs, discern lies, reveal evil, and disclose secret plots like a good physician who probes the body for the nature of the disease in order to heal the patient.

  Let him be virtuous in pronouncing judgment on the guilty and showing compassion to the innocent, acting at all times like a father to his people.

  How great then will be his happiness in having the respect of his people!

  Seimei rolled up the document and reverently raised it above his head. The bent backs let out their breaths, and sat up. Akitada looked for respect in their faces and found none.

  He tapped his wooden baton on the floor and announced, “The bodies of two men were brought to this tribunal during the night. An investigation into the manner of their deaths has begun. I will now hear the reports.”

  Tora brought Kaoru before the dais. The young woodcutter knelt, gave his name, and told of finding the body of the Uesugi servant: “I spent the day in the woods behind Takata manor, gathering fallen limbs for sale in the city, when my dog found a dead man in the snow. When I brushed the snow away, I recognized Hideo, who served the late lord of Takata. It being the day of the old lord’s funeral, I thought it best not to disturb the family and to bring the body to the tribunal instead.”

  Akitada nodded and dismissed him.” Tora stepped forward again and stated, “This morning the constable who opens the tribunal gate noticed something by the gatehouse and pointed it out to me. I investigated. It was the mutilated corpse of a middle-aged man. Subsequent identification by the fishmonger Goto says that the corpse may be that of his brother Ogai, a soldier.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant. Has the coroner checked the causes for these deaths?”

  “Yes, sir. Dr. Oyoshi is waiting to report.”

  When Oyoshi stepped forward, there was a murmur of astonishment from the crowd. Sergeant Chobei turned to stare at the new coroner with an expression of profound shock.

  Oyoshi knelt. “This person is the pharmacist Oyoshi, coroner of this tribunal by order of his Excellency, the governor. I was called to the tribunal early this morning to inspect the corpse of a middle-aged male. His hands and feet had been severed and were missing and his face was badly damaged by a beating with a heavy blunt weapon. The cause of death may have been disease, possibly due to exposure and neglect, or from his wounds. Death occurred at least a day and two nights ago, and the
mutilations were inflicted several hours later, possibly to hide a fatal wound.”

  Again there was a murmuring from the crowd, and Akitada rapped his baton. “The case will be investigated since there is a suspicion of murder. Continue!”

  “The second man was much older. I immediately recognized him as Lord Maro’s personal attendant Hideo. Death was due to multiple and severe injuries to the whole body. I am told the body was found near the foot of the cliff at Takata manor. The injuries are perfectly compatible with a fall from that height. Hideo had been dead for more than two days.”

  The doctor paused and looked at Akitada for instructions. Receiving a nod, he continued, “I have to report that, in addition to those injuries caused by the fall, the body also showed evidence of a beating about the face and head. These injuries were inflicted before death.”

  A buzz of interest rose in the crowd.

  Akitada said, “Thank you, Dr. Oyoshi. This case will also remain under investigation.” He paused briefly to gauge the mood of the audience. In vain. Taking a deep breath, he announced, “I shall now hear new evidence in the murder of the local innkeeper Sato.”

  A hush fell in the hall. Then the crowd parted to allow a veiled woman and two elderly people to approach the dais. With a sinking feeling, Akitada saw that Mrs. Sato and her parents had arrived. The widow wore modest hemp instead of silk on this occasion. He decided against calling her to testify before this hostile crowd. Ignoring her presence, he continued.

  “I have studied the documents in the case carefully. Certain statements of the three suspects were left unverified, an oversight which had to be corrected before the case could be heard. Now witnesses have stepped forward to support parts of the prisoners’ stories. That development, taken together with the fact that only two of the men have confessed and both have since recanted, could mean that the murder was committed by someone else.”

  The hall became noisy. Someone shouted, “Watch out! He’s letting them get away with it.” Someone else cried, “Where’s our own judge?” In front, Mrs. Sato called on the Buddha and wrung her hands as her parents supported her on either side.

  Akitada rapped his baton until some order was reestablished and then told Chobei, “Sergeant, bring in the prisoners.”

  Umehara, Okano, and Takagi were led in to cat calls, clenched fists, and spitting from the crowd. They wore chains that looped from their ankles to their wrists, and were made to kneel in front of the dais. Three constables moved in with whips at the ready and expressions of happy anticipation on their faces.

  Umehara cast a frightened glance at Akitada, then stared at the floor. Next to him Okano twitched the skirt of his robe with a shaking hand and turned a tragic face toward the crowd. Only the slow-witted farmer looked unconcerned; he grinned and nodded to Akitada, Hamaya, and anyone else who looked familiar.

  Akitada suppressed a sigh. At least Tora had made sure the prisoners were cleaned up and fed.

  He took the three men through their testimony quickly, stressing their activities in town before the murder, and their explanations for the gold found on them. He had Okano speak twice about the unknown travelers who had called at the inn and left again while the actor was in the bath, and he asked Takagi about leaving his bundle unattended.

  Twice there were jeers and laughter. The constables made little effort to stop them. To judge from their broad grins, they shared the crowd’s feelings.

  When Akitada called for witnesses, the noise subsided a little. One by one, market vendors, shopkeepers, money changers, waitresses, and soup sellers, all familiar faces in the market, or neighbors and relatives of someone in the crowd, stepped forward and knelt. Their testimonies substantiated the three prisoners’ claims.

  An uneasy silence had fallen when Akitada dismissed the last witness and had Tora escort the prisoners out. He scanned the crowd. People looked puzzled, uncertain. He felt a stirring of hope.

  He was thinking of releasing the three pathetic men as quickly as possible and began, “Today’s testimony throws considerable doubt on the guilt of the three defendants . ..” when there was a cry of protest and the widow pushed past the constables to face him.

  She threw back her veil and bowed. “This person is the widow Sato. As the widow of the slain man, I ask this court’s permission to make a statement.”

  It was her right. Akitada compressed his lips and nodded.

  She turned her head to look at the crowd. There was a murmur of admiration at her youth and beauty. “My husband was a humble man like most of you,” she told them in a clear voice. “He worked as hard for his coppers as you do. Is it right that he should die for the greed of another man?”

  “No,” they muttered.

  “Is it right that his killers—his confessed killers—should go unpunished to roam the streets and kill again?”

  “No.” There were shouts now.

  “This,” she cried, pointing at Akitada, “is not a proper court. You must not permit it to release my husband’s murderers. Where is our own judge? How can an official born and raised in the distant capital know our people and our laws? Our lawful judge would not let my husband’s killers escape their just punishment. Our own judge would not permit my husband’s restless spirit to cry for justice.”

  Akitada was using his baton to stop her harangue and point out a governor’s duty to oversee the administration of justice in his province, but he saw the angry faces in the crowd and knew his words would make no difference.

  Mrs. Sato shot him a triumphant glance. “We have all heard about the pardons given to murderers and robbers in the capital,” she told him, “and we hear how those criminals repeat their crimes, yes, even in the very grounds of the emperor’s palace. Injustice today brings more murder tomorrow. Already there are two more bodies in this tribunal. Is that the kind of justice you offer?”

  “No,” roared the crowd, shaking their fists in the air and surging forward.

  Akitada had listened with a frozen expression. Not only was this woman, who had turned her back to him earlier so disrespectfully, calling people into open defiance of a duly appointed governor, but her arguments and her references to the deplorable conditions in the nation’s capital proved her to be well-informed. Such knowledge went quite beyond the background of a mere innkeeper’s wife. And why had she of all people stepped forward as the spokeswoman for the faceless threat to his administration?

  Chaos reigned in the hall. The crowd moved against the restraining arms of the constables. Tora was back, his hand at his sword, looking up at him for an order, but Akitada shrank from committing public bloodshed. He scanned the crowd for some sign of support, however small.

  Chobei, the insubordinate sergeant of constables, sneered at him openly. Next to him, the dismissed coroner smirked with satisfaction. Their thoughts were written on their faces: The fool from the capital was about to lose his position, perhaps even his life.

  Glaring at Chobei and pointing his baton at him, Akitada raised his voice to be heard over the noise of the crowd. “Sergeant, give that woman ten lashes for inciting a riot.”

  There were gasps from the crowd and it became quiet. He scowled at their startled faces. “And if there is anymore trouble from anyone here, that number will be doubled—and given to each troublemaker.”

  Chobei gaped at him. Tora’s sword hissed as he drew it from its scabbard. The crowd drew back and a tense silence suddenly filled the hall. Chobei shook his head and retreated.

  And Mrs. Sato laughed softly.

  Furious, Akitada rose to his feet. “Sergeant,” he called out, “you will either carry out my order or my lieutenant will have your head.”

  Tora stepped up to Chobei, his sword in both hands.

  Chobei turned white. Beads of sweat glistened on his face. After a moment, his shoulders slumped and he approached the widow. She cried out and tried to sidestep him, but he seized her arm. When he reached to strip her gown from her shoulders, Akitada snapped, “Leave her dressed.” He had
no wish to give the crowd a chance to ogle a half-naked woman as beautiful as this one. Besides, his stomach churned already at what was about to take place.

  The widow twisted and screamed. With the practice of years of maltreating prisoners, Chobei flung her facedown on the floor. Her parents prostrated themselves, begging for mercy for her. Akitada ignored them. Two of his constables approached to hold her down, while Chobei pulled the leather whip from his belt and used it. He counted out ten strokes in a loud voice so he would be heard above the screams and sobs from the prisoner and her weeping parents. When he was done, he untied her ankles, and hauled her sagging figure back to her feet. The two constables dragged the whimpering woman past the crowd and out of the hall. Her parents hurried after her.

  There was no more trouble, but Tora continued to stand with drawn sword, ready to cut down the first man or woman who stepped forward.

  Akitada was sick. Aware that he was starting to shake from head to foot, he sat back down, rapped his baton, and said as steadily as he could, “The prisoners will remain in custody until the case is cleared up. This hearing is adjourned until further evidence has been collected.”