The problem with the four deaths was that they made no sense. All the men had in common were their gender and age. Could the killer simply be mad and kill old men randomly? It was unlikely, but try as he might, Akitada came up with no answer, and the memory of Yukiko intruded again.
The news that she would marry the chancellor’s son cast him into an insufferable gloom. He should have expected it. Kosehira’s cousins were men of power and influence, and such men arranged marriages amongst each other. He knew little of this particular scion of the ruling family but pictured him as a spoiled and haughty brat who was probably involved in affairs with court ladies. They all thought of themselves as Prince Genji.
Even if Yukiko would become this young man’s senior wife-something that was by no means certain when there were princesses of the blood available-Akitada thought she would be made profoundly unhappy in such a marriage. Her spirit and intelligence would be crushed as one among many wives and concubines of a powerful man.
But perhaps her fate would not be much better elsewhere.
He thought of his own marriage. While he had not kept other wives or mistresses, he had not always been an attentive husband. Well, in truth, he had rarely been attentive to Tamako, though it was usually work that had kept him away. But he and Tamako had shared their lives, had talked about their worries, had grieved together the deaths of loved ones, and in between they had found time to laugh. Tamako had always been the most important person in his life. Yukiko deserved as much.
But he could not marry her. Nothing had changed. He was still too old, too poor, too stodgy, and too dull. And now, knowing of Kosehira’s plans, he certainly could not ask his friend for her. Kosehira would turn him down, and that would end their friendship. And if he felt constrained to agree to the match, Akitada would forever live with the knowledge.
The ghosts of his past haunted him as he returned to the Taira manor. Most disturbing were certain memories he had of himself as a husband and father. He did not much like that other Akitada and pitied Tamako. He also pitied his children, and to a lesser degree the loyal men and women who served him.
Kosehira met him like this upon his return. Seeing his face, he asked, “What’s wrong? What has happened now?”
Akitada looked at his friend sadly. “Why do you like me, Kosehira? I don’t deserve it. I’ve been thinking about my marriage. I’ve not been a good husband and father.”
“Nonsense. You’re the best husband I know, which is why I- ” Kosehira broke off. “What brought this on?”
And suddenly Akitada could not help himself. He burst out, “This talk about Yukiko’s marriage to the chancellor’s son. Kosehira, surely she deserves better. He’ll ignore her for his mistresses.”
Kosehira gaped at him, then said, “Nothing is firm. The matter has merely been mentioned. Why do you care so much?”
Akitada flushed. “No reason. It just occurred to me how hard a woman’s life is. She has no choice in the matter of a husband.”
“You don’t know my daughter very well. And you don’t know me very well, either. Yukiko has been consulted. She will not be forced into a marriage against her will.”
“Oh!” Akitada sighed. “Sorry. I still struggle sometimes with my memories. Please forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. We are friends. It pleases me that you care for my child.” Kosehira smiled. “If you’re done with your investigation, perhaps we should head home?”
“I’ve done as much as I could. The heavens know what is going on. I certainly don’t.”
?
After they took their leave of their hosts and started the journey homeward, Akitada’s mood lifted somewhat. He even took some interest in another fair in the next town they passed through. This one was at a fox shrine and honored the kami of rice growing. Here, too, the small Jizos were for sale. Their sight sent shivers down Akitada’s back in spite of the general merry-making.
They reached Kosehira’s villa after sunset, tired and hungry. After a bath, they ate, though neither paid a great deal of attention to the food, and then parted to seek their beds.
Akitada was up early the next day. He dressed quickly and walked into the garden, his heart beating fast in anticipation. But there was no one at the koi pond. He stood for a little while, watching as the fish rose to the surface in hope of food. They shared his disappointment, then sank once more to the bottom and Akitada left.
He had no idea what he would have said to her. He had merely hoped to see her. A fool at forty is a true fool. He shook his head and wished Tora were here and they could practice with their swords.
Later at the tribunal, he tried to distract himself with work. The excursion to the pheasant reserve meant that stacks of documents had piled up at his desk. He worked till midday, then left to see Chief Takechi.
Takechi greeted him eagerly. “Ready for some more noodle soup, sir?”
“I had hoped you’d remember your offer.”
At the noodle restaurant, Takechi asked, “Well? Did you find out anything useful?
Akitada shared the information about Wakiya and Juro.
Takechi said, “I still don’t see a connection. Do you?”
Akitada said, “No, but I’m convinced there is something. If only I could grasp it. I had hoped you would.”
Takechi looked pleased by this. Their soup arrived and they ate for a while in silence. When they had finished, Takechi sat back and smacked is lips. “Good food is a great blessing. I hope I never lose the taste for it.”
Akitada laughed and gestured to the waiter for refills. “I suppose,” he said, “it is something that will still be left to us in old age.”
“That and our memories.”
Akitada knew all about memories, but at that moment, he had again the feeling that he was close to some fact they had overlooked. “All four,” he said “were old and not far apart in age. Perhaps something happened to them in the past., something that involved all of them. We should concentrate on some event in the past.”
Takechi looked doubtful. “What event?”
“I don’t know. Wakiya and Juro could have come to Otsu on a pilgrimage. The headman in Okuni said it was likely. Suppose they met the judge?”
“And the jailer? You think they committed a crime?”
Akitada sighed. “It’s not likely, or they would have known in Okuni.. It must be something else.”
The waiter arrived with more soup and they ate, more slowly this time and thoughtfully. But in the end, the bowls were empty and neither had come up with an answer. Takechi paid and they strolled back to his office, where one of the constables came running to tell them there was an urgent message.
They hurried inside, and Takechi opened a letter from the tribunal. A second letter was inside. It was addressed to Akitada. Takechi scanned his note while Akitada was still unfolding his letter.
“Taira Sukemichi’s been killed,” Takechi said.
Akitada read and nodded. “I must get back to the tribunal. It’s hard to accept. I just saw the man yesterday when we left him. What can have happened?”
?
Kosehira received him with a similar comment, adding, “We must go back right away. Do you mind?”
“Of course not. What does your message say?”
“It’s from the prefect in Echi. He was sent for by Sukemichi’s family. At least they didn’t take the law into their own hands. Sukemichi was found in his garden, bludgeoned to death.” Kosehira paused. “Nakahara had just left. For some reason, they suspect him, and the prefect wants him brought back. I don’t believe it for a moment. Short, fat, middle-aged Nakahara bludgeoning a strong young man like Sukemichi? It’s ridiculous.”
“I would agree. What about his family or one of the servants?”
“Much more likely. Besides, a robber could’ve got in and, being caught by Sukemichi, decided to kill him. Anyway, you’ll find out who did it. I’ll come along to introduce you to the prefect.”
Akitada did not share such confidence. “That’s a bit high-handed.,” he said with a smile. “I thought you invited me for a rest from my stressful life in the capital.”
Kosehira had the grace to look guilty. “I’m truly sorry, Akitada. I couldn’t know this would happen. Do you mind very much?”
“Not at all, brother. I was teasing you.”
“Well, you’ve already involved yourself in local crime. This is a much more important case.”
Akitada’s smile faded. “They’re all important,” he said soberly.
Kosehira nodded. “Yes, of course. I only meant that this one will create problems if we don’t find the perpetrator. The Taira family is likely to make trouble.”
“I see your point. Well, I’m at your disposal. Should we speak to Nakahara first? He must be back by now?”
?
Nakahara’s house on the outskirts of Otsu was indeed modest, but it was surrounded by a large garden. They were admitted by an elderly servant who reminded Akitada of Seimei. Nakahara came quickly, looking surprised. “What a pleasure! But you look serious. Is anything amiss?”
Kosehira said bluntly, “Yes. Sukemichi’s been found murdered.”
“Wha-?” Nakahara gulped.
Akitada thought his shock was genuine. “Let’s sit down,” he suggested. “We are going back but wondered if you could tell us anything. You left after us.”
“I know nothing,” gasped Nakahara, gesturing to some cushions. “Nothing at all. He was alive and quite well this morning. I left very early. What could have happened?
They seated themselves. Kosehira asked, “You parted on good terms?”
“What do you mean? Of course we parted on good terms. I thanked him for the entertainment and left with my servant. It was before sunrise. He was still in his bed clothes. We talked on the rear veranda outside his room. It was perfectly amicable.” Nakahara paused. “Surely you cannot suspect me?”
“Apparently the local authorities do. Because you left very early.” Kosehira said.
Nakahara glowered. “Of course I left early. It’s a long trip home. As you should know well enough.”
Akitada decided to smooth over the tension. “I think the governor is merely trying to find out if you were the last person to see Lord Sukemichi alive and under what circumstances.”
“I have no idea. I assume he went back inside to get dressed. You’ll have to ask his servants.” Nakahara was not so easily reassured . “How dare they say such things!”
“Were you aware of any problems Sukemichi might have had? Some family discord? An argument the evening before?”
“Guests generally aren’t involved in family affairs,” Nakahara pointed out.
Akitada thought of his own position in Kosehira’s home. He had become involved. Putting his feelings for Yukiko firmly from his mind, he persisted, “You were a frequent guest, I think. Was there anything out of the ordinary that you recall?”
Nakahara shook his head, then said, “I heard the dogs bark during the night, but that was probably just some animal.”
When they ended their visit, Kosehira tried to apologize, but Nakahara remained very stiff and resentful. “I trust you’ll keep me informed?” he said. “My relationship with Sukemichi was excellent, regardless of what you may think.”
“Ouch,” said Kosehira as they got back on their horses. “I didn’t do myself any good there.”
Akitada said, “He’ll calm down,” but thought privately that Kosehira was probably not going to be much help questioning Sukemichi’s family.
After another hard ride, they reached the Taira manor and found the local prefect, a middle-aged man called Ishimoda, already in charge. Ishimoda, who had been appointed by Kosehira, came to greet them and did his best to provide information to his superior.
This got a little tedious since Ishimoda made it a point to put himself forward as a brilliant investigator.
“Having been notified of the death,” he said, “I immediately dropped everything to rush over here, knowing that a man of Lord Taira’s importance-what a great loss to the nation!-deserved the best we had to offer. Alas, picture my shock and sadness when I was led to his body-such a handsome man at the height of his powers-and saw the bloody end some vicious criminals had brought him to.” He paused briefly to dab at his eyes with a tissue.
Akitada took the opportunity to ask, “Where was the body?”
“Oh. Didn’t I say. I’m still distraught. My apologies.”
“Just answer,” Kosehira said wearily.
“Ah, yes. He was in the garden. A beautiful garden, very fitting.”
“Fitting in what way?” asked Akitada.
The prefect looked blank. “Why, because of his fine taste, of course.”
“Do we know why he was in the garden? Did he have a particular purpose for being there?”
“Oh. Of course, as it was quite beautiful …” Seeing both Akitada and Kosehira glaring at him, he fell silent.
Akitada suppressed a sigh. “We are trying to find out if he met someone there.”
“Oh. I see. Well, he was still in his bed clothes, so I wouldn’t think so. That is, other than Lord Nakahara, of course. Did his lordship come with you?”
“No. There was no need. He left Sukemichi alive outside his room.” Akitada added, “The fact that the body was in the garden might suggest that he was meeting a member of his family or a servant.”
The prefect looked shocked. “You cannot possibly suspect his family, sir.”
Kosehira said firmly, “Of course we can. We can suspect everyone until we have the killer.”
Ishimoda blinked. “Yes, I see, sir. I’m very sorry. But I don’t know why he was in the garden. Perhaps he saw something or someone?”
Kosehira nodded. “That is quite possible. If he saw a stranger for example, he might have gone to investigate.”
The prefect brightened. “That must be it then.”
Akitada asked, “Did the servants have anything to report? Did anyone hear anything, for example?”
“No, sir.”
Akitada sighed. “Take us to the body, Prefect.”
They had brought Taira Sukemichi into the reception room of the manor. There he rested on the dais, dressed in what appeared to be his best court costume, his hair arranged and topped with a court hat. It was impossible to see any injury.
Akitada glanced at those present. Sukemichi’s family and household knelt below the dais. They wore the pale hemp mourning robes, and Sukemichi’s three wives were heavily veiled. The mourners had stopped their wailing at their entrance and watched as Kosehira and Akitada approached the body, bowed, and stood looking at it.
There was a small stain on the new tatami mat Sukemichi’s head rested on. It suggested that the fatal wound had been to the back of the head and was still oozing a little. Sukemichi’s face was peaceful.
Akitada regretted his death. Sukemichi had been a generous host and if perhaps a little too enamored of falconry, had not been unlikeable. Yet someone had hated him enough to kill him. Or perhaps it had indeed been a robber, surprised by the unlucky Sukemichi.
After a suitable time, the prefect, Kosehira, and Akitada bowed again, then turned and bowed to the family. After that they left the room.
Outside, Akitada said to the prefect, “It will be necessary to speak to the family. Would you please let them know?”
?
Only Sukemichi’s senior wife and his eldest son received them. They were in a smaller room behind the hall where the body lay, and the chanting of the monks could be heard clearly through the wall. It cast a special gloom over the interview.
They expressed their condolences to Lady Taira, and his young heir, a fourteen-year-old, who looked confused. Having become Lord Taira so abruptly and being expected to direct the fortunes of his family was clearly beyond him. His mother, who sat to his side and slightly behind him, was no help at all. She never lifted her veil and seemed to wait for them to leave.
An uncomfortable silence fell after they had all said their piece and the new Lord Taira had bowed each time. Kosehira cleared his throat and addressed the boy. “Regrettably, the prefect has some questions concerning what happened. It is a bad time, but I’m certain you will wish your father’s murderer caught as soon as possible.”
The youngster nodded. “Yes. But I know nothing and neither does my mother.”
Lady Taira confirmed this. “My husband’s death is a great shock. We are quite unable to grasp it, let alone give you any information. I speak for all of us.”
“Forgive me,” said Akitada, “but did Lord Sukemichi spend the night alone?”
Lady Taira gasped, and her son blushed to the roots of his hair. He shot a glance at his mother and said, “I believe so.”
“And was it his custom to walk in the garden after rising in the morning?”
The boy raised his chin and asked, “Why are you asking these questions? Are you not looking for the robber who killed my father?”
Akitada took pity on him. “Of course, but we need to find anyone who may have seen or heard something. Besides, if we can establish that your father customarily walked in the garden, the killer may have known this and lain in wait, you see.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “You mean someone planned to kill him?”
“It’s possible.”
“Oh. Sometimes he would go into the garden, I think. Maybe his servant would know.” The new lord subsided into misery again.
They said a few soothing words and departed. Outside, Kosehira said to Akitada, “I guess the wife didn’t spend the night in Sukemichi’s bed.”
“No, but someone else may have. She had a strong reaction to my question. And the son was clearly embarrassed. We’d better check with the servants.”
Ishimoda offered timidly, “Must we ask such questions? It seems unnecessary and is clearly offensive to her ladyship.”
Akitada eyed him with a raised brow. “We must, Prefect. After a murder there is no privacy left. All the family secrets are inspected.”
Kosehira said nothing, but he looked unhappy. Akitada got an inkling of how most people felt about his own methods, indeed, about his meddling in murder cases. He steeled himself against his doubts. Not only was it right to pay this debt to the murdered man, but leaving his murderers free was surely an offense against the gods.