Black Arrow sa-4 Page 28

  “More than that, Governor.Ofumi was a remarkable woman and perfectly capable of devising the plan on her own, but she lacked the necessary contacts.”

  “So you found Koichi for her.”

  “That was clever of you. I rather suspected that you did not quite believe my story of self-defense when I killed him in the market the other day.” Sunada grimaced. “It was a public service, though I was protecting myself. Unfortunately assassins are unreliableassociates. When you refused to believe the three travelers guilty and startedlooking for another killer, he demanded money. I could afford to pay, but a manof his background and reputation cannot be trusted. I decided to act while Ihad witnesses. Then one of your men happened along-” Sunada broke off andclenched his fists. “Of course,” he muttered. “The lieutenant who attempted toarrest me-he was the one who seduced her.” He glowered at Akitada. “Wasn’t he?”

  Akitada was taken aback. Howcould this matter now? In justice to Hitomaro, he said sharply, “You are quitewrong. She seduced him.”

  For a moment their eyes held ina contest of wills, then Sunada lowered his head. “Perhaps she could not helpwhat she was, what she made men do.”

  “A woman who plots to have herhusband killed deserves no pity,” snapped Akitada.

  “What would you know of a woman’slife?” Sunada asked wearily. “That girl-beautiful beyond belief, full of grace,endowed with talent, clever, lively, and filled with dreams-she was born into apeasant family and sold in marriage to an old man, a desiccated dotard so closeto death that he stank of decomposition! What chance had she by your laws?”

  “Not my laws. The laws of thegods. She was not mistreated. By all accounts Sato doted on her.”

  Sunada moved impatiently. “Shewas made for better things. He had no right to possess her.”

  This was absurd-as any goodConfucian scholar knew. The ancients taught that a woman had no right to choosefor herself. Her duty was first to her parents, then to her husband, and lastto her son. And if she was unfortunate enough to survive her immediate family,another male relative would direct her life.

  But there was no point inarguing with this man. Akitada said, “So you ‘contacted,’ as you put it,Koichi, a man with a long record of crimes. In fact, you had him released fromhis latest jail term the day before Sato’s death. Employing the unemployablehad always worked well for you. Such men are grateful. Did Koichi balk at allat murder?”

  “He was eager to do it andbragged about it afterwards. I found him repulsive.”

  “Ah, so he reported to youafter the murder.” Akitada was pleased. The case would be resolved moresmoothly than he had hoped. “Koichi entered the Golden Carp in midafternoon, ata time when Mrs. Sato would have reached her parents’ village arid been seenthere by as many people as possible. It was a sunny day, and the inn’s hallwaydim. Koichi stumbled over a packsaddle and damaged it. Okano, one of the threetravelers, was taking a bath and heard the clatter but assumed it was made bycustomers who left again when no one greeted them. I do not know whether Koichibrought a weapon, but I think he saw a large knife lying in the kitchen anddecided to use it. After killing the sick old man, Koichi emptied the moneybox, replaced the knife where he had found it, and left again as unobserved ashe had come.”

  “I did not know about thepacksaddle, and he certainly did not tell me about the money box,” Sunada said.“Otherwise your deductions are correct.”

  “Sato had saved up some gold.His widow testified that there were seven pieces, but she provided thatinformation after the three fugitives had been searched and seven gold pieceswere found in their possession. Still, it is surprising that Koichi blackmailedyou after having helped himself to all of Sato’s savings.”

  Sunada laughed mirthlessly. “Come,Governor! Not even you can be that unworldly! Gold begets greed. He was to keepwhat he found as payment. Clearly it was not enough.”

  Akitada knew there was a looseend still, but it had nothing to do with Sunada. He asked, “Will you sign astatement and testify in court that Koichi killed Sato on your instructions andat Mrs. Sato’s request?”

  “Yes. But there is a condition.”

  “No.” Akitada rose abruptly.The disappointment stung, though he should have expected it. “Even if I wishedto grant you leniency, your fate is not in my power. Neither your culpabilityin the Sato case, nor the three murders you committed yourself signify whencompared to a case of insurrection against his august Majesty.”

  Sunada smiled a little. “Iknow. My request is not for me.”

  Akitada hesitated. “The sameapplies to all your associates and includes your henchman, Boshu, and hisvillainous gang. They have terrorized the local people at your behest. I lookforward to sentencing them to long terms at hard labor. Besides, your peoplehad a hand in placing the mutilated body at the tribunal gate.”

  Sunada looked astonished. “Forwhat it is worth, we had nothing to do with that. That was done by that animalChobei, your former sergeant, on instructions from Hisamatsu. No one else couldhave misused a corpse in such a repulsive fashion.”

  “The corpse showed evidence ofhaving been stored in a rice warehouse.”

  Sunada hunched his shoulders. “Byall means add it to my charges. It does not matter. And do as you wish withBoshu and his men. I’m asking you to spare the two crippled servants you saw inmy house. They are simple fishermen who lost the ability to go to sea. Theyneither read nor write and only took care of my simplest needs in my home. Inever asked more of them.”

  Akitada remembered the twocripples. Again Sunada had surprised him, almost shamed him. “They have beenoutside this jail since you were brought here.”

  Sunada lowered his head, thenbrushed a hand across his eyes. “I plead with you,” he said brokenly. “Theymust not suffer for their loyalty, for their love …” He choked on the word.

  “Very well. If they are asinnocent as you say, they may return to their families.”

  “Thank you.” Sunada boweddeeply, his face wet with tears.

  Back in the common room, Kaoruand Tora greeted Akitada with broad grins.

  “We heard,” cried Tora. “Yousolved the Sato case. It was brilliant. From little things like Umehara’sbackpack and a noise Okano heard, you put the whole thing together.”

  “And from Koichi’s jailrecords, when no one knew he had been near the inn,” added Kaoru. “Such wisdomis worthy of the famous judge Ch’eng-Lin.”

  Akitada looked at him for amoment, then smiled and shook his head. “I don’t deserve any credit. From thebeginning, Tora was closer to the answer than I was.”

  “Me?” Tora gaped.

  “Yes. We should have arrestedthe maid. It would have saved trouble and lives. She was an accessory beforeand after the fact and should have been questioned rigorously.”

  “Kiyo? Why?”

  “The bloody knife. Someone hadto put it in Takagi’s pack. Koichi knew nothing of the three travelers. I thinkwe will find that Kiyo not only knew of the planned murder, but that she andKoichi split Sato’s savings.”

  Tora stared at him. “But shehated her mistress.”

  “Probably. She also hated oldSato. When she thought you were a stranger passing through, she carelesslyrevealed her motive. It is to your credit that you recognized and reported it.Later she changed her story, but by then she knew that you worked for me, andthat Sunada had killed Koichi. She was afraid.”

  “Well,” Tora said with greatsatisfaction, “would you believe it? I have the instinct for it after all.”

  Akitada nodded. “Oh, yes. It isyour case now. Go arrest the girl and get her confession. We also need astatement from Sunada.” He paused and gave the sergeant a considering look. “Allthe clerks are busy with Sunada’s papers …”

  Kaoru said eagerly, “I canwrite well enough, sir,” and gestured at a sheaf of reports on his desk.

  Akitada looked and raised hiseyebrows at the neat script, then smiled. “Very well, Sergeant, go ahead. Butfirst tell your three prisoners that they are free to go. Hama
ya will returntheir money and property to them. There should be additional compensation fromSunada’s confiscated estate after both cases are settled.”

  ¦

  Someone,Tamako or Seimei, had brought hot tea and placed it on the brazier in hisoffice. He poured some and drank greedily before sitting down at his desk.

  The prince’s letter stillawaited his attention. Tamako had understood immediately that an officialreport to the chancellor would set wheels in motion which might well putAkitada and his family in personal danger. She had wanted him to wait. But thiscould not wait. The emperor himself was in danger.

  Akitada reached for his writingutensils. His cover letter was very brief. He enclosed it and the prince’sletter in another sheet of paper, sealed this, and addressed both to a manwhose wisdom and kindness were well known to him, the retired emperor’s brotherwho was a Buddhist bishop. Then he clapped his hands.

  The young soldiers selected byTakesuke looked eager and intelligent. Akitada gave his instructions and turnedhis letter over to them. This accomplished, he had another cup of tea andrelaxed.

  There was little left to do.The tangled web of murder and mayhem had resolved itself with Sunada’sconfession. Akitada took no pleasure in it. There had been many deaths andthere would be many more, public executions which he must attend in hisofficial role. Besides, it had not been his own effort which had broughtjustice to the three unfortunate travelers, or revealed and broken theconspiracy against the emperor. No, it had all been due to chance encountersbetween one woman and two men.

  He considered the destructionMrs. Sato had wrought in the lives of others. The good abbot Hokko had his ownsymbol to explain the inexplicable. Buddhist scripture taught that man occupieda precarious position midway between the angels and the demons on the wheel oflife. A turn of the wheel propelled him either upward, toward righteousness,good fortune, and happiness, or it dragged him into the filth of evil andcrushed him underneath. The wheel had crushed Sunada.

  He sniffed. There was a strangefishy smell in the air. Then he became aware of a peculiar noise coming fromthe wooden shutters behind him. It sounded like the gnawing of a rat. A softhissing followed, then a scrabbling noise. Akitada turned on his cushion sothat he faced the shutters. As he watched, a narrow line of light widened intoa crack and a pudgy hand appeared in the opening. More hissingfollowed-whispering, Akitada decided-and then a round red face topped withshort black horns appeared and leered in at him from bulging eyes.

  Both Akitada and the goblinjerked back in surprise. The goblin squealed, and the shutter slammed shut.Akitada opened his mouth to shout for a guard, when the shutter flew openagain, revealing two human backs, bowed abjectly on the narrow veranda outside.

  “Who are you and what do youwant?” barked Akitada, his heart pounding.

  One of the creatures, thehorned goblin, visibly trembled, but the other one raised his gray head.Akitada recognized Umehara.

  “Forgive us, Excellency,”Umehara said, wringing his hands and sniffling. “We asked your clerk to let ussee you, but it was strictly forbidden, so we came this way.”

  “Ah.” Akitada regarded theshaking figure. A certain plumpness suggested Okano, but the horns? “Is thatOkano?” he asked.

  The spiked head noddedviolently.

  “What happened to your head,Okano? Are you playing a goblin?”

  “Oh!” The actor wailed andcovered the spikes with both hands. “See, Umehara? Okano should have worn hisscarf! He is so ugly!”

  “His hair is growing back,”explained Umehara.

  Akitada suppressed a smile. “Situp and look at me, Okano.”

  The actor sat up slowly, pudgyhands fluttering from hair to face and finally dropping in despair. With greatdifficulty, Akitada kept a straight face. Above Okano’s red face with itsbulging, tear-filled eyes and quivering lips, black tufts rose into the air.Poor Okano needed no costume to play the part of a goblin. “Can you not comb itback?” he suggested.

  “It’s too short. See?” Okanoslapped at the horns with both hands. “Umehara gave Okano some fish oil. But itmade it worse.”

  That explained the strangesmell.

  “Ah. No doubt it will improvein time. You did not wish to consult me about your hair, I trust,” Akitadaremarked.

  “Oh, no,” they chorused,exchanging doleful looks.

  Umehara was wringing his hands,“It’s about the sergeant telling us to leave.”

  Okano wailed, “Where will Okanogo? What will he do? He has no friends in the whole wide world. Okano will killhimself!”

  “Holy heavens,” cried Akitada. “Stopthat nonsense at once. Umehara, can’t you explain to him that he is a free man,cleared of all charges, and that he will receive some money for his suffering?Why, in heaven’s name is he carrying on like this?”

  Umehara began to weep also. “Heunderstands,” he sobbed. “It’s all very well for Takagi.” He wiped hisstreaming face and nose on his sleeve. “Takagi wants to go home to his village.But Okano and me …”-he sniffed-”… we’ve got nobody and … we’ve never beenas happy as we’ve been here. We don’t want to leave your jail, sir.”

  Akitada was taken aback. Aftera moment, he said in a choking voice, “Well, if you are sure, I’ll put in agood word for you with the sergeant.”

  ** * *

  TWENTY

  THE WAY OF WAR

  T

  wohours before sunrise Akitada still sat at his desk, staring now at thefeathered arrow, now at the shell-matching game. The tea in his cup had longsince been drunk and the brazier was filled with ashes. It had grown cold, buthe felt neither the chill nor thirst or tiredness.

  All night he had turned over inhis mind the problem of the impregnable manor. Hamaya had searched the archivesfor information about its construction but found nothing of interest. Akitada’smemory from his visits discouraged hope. The natural defenses were just toogood. Each time, he had approached the mountaintop manor by its main gate-wasthere another access?-and found it could be defended against an army by ahandful of bowmen on the watchtower above. A battering ram was out of thequestion, and so were ladders. The rocky hillside, topped with walls, was toohigh and steep to be climbed against defending archers.

  Of course, a bonfire laidagainst the wooden main gate would eventually consume it, but at what cost tothose carrying and stacking the faggots and bundles of wood? Still, some covermight be constructed for them.

  Even then, the big problem remained:When the gate was breached, the narrow entrance would only allow a small numberof soldiers at a time to penetrate to the interior courts, and each of thosewas separately walled and defended. Uesugi had more than enough men to holdTakesuke off. Too many would die in such a gamble.

  Akitada took up the arrow andfingered it thoughtfully. There was someone who might know a way.

  He heard a sound in thearchives outside his office, and clapped his hands.

  Hamaya stuck his head in. “YourExcellency is up already?”

  Akitada did not bother tocorrect him. “Send for Sergeant Kaoru. And get someone to bring more coals andsome hot tea.”

  Kaoru was prompt. It had been awhile since he had had occasion to come to Akitada’s office. When he sat down,he saw the arrow and flinched. His eyes flew to Akitada’s face.

  “One of yours?” Akitada asked,watching him.

  “What? Oh.” He shook his head.

  “It is the arrow that shotKaibara. It occurred to me that it might have been you who shot him. Hitomarotold me of your skill with the bow.”

  Kaoru blinked. “No, sir, notme, though I wish it had been. You remember I was here at the tribunal thatnight.”

  “Ah, yes. Do you have any ideawho might have done it?”

  Silence. A servant enteredquietly, bringing a fresh brazier of coals and a steaming pot of tea. Akitadawaited until he was gone. Then he said, “Come! You recognized the arrow. Whoseis it?”

  Kaoru was pale now, but heanswered in a steady voice. “It belongs to a dead man, sir. That arrow is partof a s
et of contest arrows used by the late Lord of Takata’s elder brother.”

  “Ah. I was sure I had seen somelike it in the Uesugi armory. It suggests that one of Uesugi’s own people shotKaibara.”

  “No!”

  Akitada raised his brows. “No?How else could this arrow get out of the armory?”

  Kaoru looked at it as ifmesmerized. “The servants attach magic powers to … to these arrows and …there is much coming and going of servants at Takata. No doubt someone took itfrom the armory.”

  “No doubt,” Akitada said dryly.“You seem well informed about the household. Have you spent much time there?”

  A flush slowly rose on theother man’s face. “I did not steal the arrow, sir,” he said stiffly.

  Akitada smiled. “Of course not,”he said affably. “I ask because I had hoped for information about the manor. Wewill move on Takata and demand Uesugi’s surrender today.”

  “You will?” Relief gave way toexcitement. “Then the rumors are true. He will refuse to surrender and you willhave to attack the manor. May I join you, sir?”

  Akitada felt depressed by theother man’s eagerness. “The bloodshed will be terrible. You would almostcertainly be killed. Besides, you are needed here.”

  Kaoru bit his lip. His eyessearched Akitada’s face. Finally he said, “I could be of use. I know the manorvery well, having carried wood there all my life, ever since I was a small boyand went with my father.” He added, almost as an afterthought, “He was awoodcutter also.”

  “A woodcutter, eh?” Akitadastudied the other man. “Tell me,” he asked casually, “where did you learn toread and write Chinese characters?”

  “Chinese characters? I don’t…oh, you mean the jail records. I know just a few, for brevity.”

  Akitada nodded. “Quite correctand appropriate for official documents. Our native tongue is more useful for poetryand the ladies’ romances. However, few people are adept at Chinese, especiallyat legal terminology, and I would guess your style is as good as Hamaya’s.Where did you learn it?”

  Kaoru fidgeted. “A Buddhistpriest taught me when I was young,” he finally said.