The way of heaven was just. Let Kobe deal with Lady Kiyowara’s fury. The lady might well make him cease his opposition. She was quite formidable, and then there was her relationship to the regent’s wife. Encouraged, Akitada began his quest anew. ‘Have you found out anything else useful from the servants?’
‘No. Nothing.’
‘No disgruntled members of the household? No dismissed and angry servants?’
Fuhito looked surprised by the notion. ‘Hardly. Servants do not lift their hands against their masters.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that. Even the mildest and most obedient man can be pressed too hard and lose his self control.’
The major-domo shifted uncomfortably, but said nothing.
‘Let’s go back to the scene you found when you entered your master’s room that afternoon. It’s strange that there shouldn’t have been a weapon that might have dealt the fatal wound. While it is barely possible that the murderer entered and left the room without being noticed, surely that becomes highly unlikely if he was carrying a weapon.’
‘I’m afraid I cannot help you. It is, as you say, inconceivable.’
‘If he or she entered from the garden-’ Akitada paused to let the image of that sun-drenched landscape flash across his memory. The poet had been there, walking along the stream. And yes, it would have been easy enough to pick up one of the large stones that followed that waterway, slip into Kiyowara’s room and kill him, then slip back out to replace it. Oh, if only he could go back there. There might still be traces of blood, or some hair, perhaps, on that fatal stone.
He came back to Fuhito, who was watching him nervously. ‘The poet Ono – he’s a particular friend to Lady Kiyowara. Are they lovers?’
The bluntness of that took Fuhito’s breath away. He colored to his ears. ‘I could not say, sir.’ It was said flatly, before he had time to become angry. Then he glared at Akitada. ‘Surely that is a very improper suggestion under the circumstances. Both you and I are in Her Ladyship’s employ.’
‘When it’s a matter of murder, no question is improper. Are you yourself involved with her?’
Fuhito’s jaw dropped. He was speechless.
‘You must realize that it looks very much as if this murder is a personal affair. From the beginning, the most obvious suspects have been the son and his mother. I took on the case, assuming they are innocent. That means I must consider others who might have had motives and opportunity to kill the man.’
Fuhito brushed a hand over his face. ‘I am a mere servant,’ he said, ‘and my position is such that I would not risk my livelihood by approaching my mistress with improper suggestions. She would not, in any case, tolerate it. As for her private life, I know very little about it. Her husband always showed her the greatest regard, but their relationship had become formal over the years. His Lordship loved his son and honored the mother. As for His young Lordship, he would not raise his hand against his own father. He is hot-headed but also gentle.’
‘Hmm.’ Akitada tried another approach. ‘I’m told your late master engaged in affairs outside his marriages. In fact, he had a bad reputation with women. Lady Kiyowara might have felt threatened or decided to pay him back in the same coin. In the latter case, a lover would have a motive. In the former, a husband or other relative.’
Fuhito flushed again and shook his head. ‘I cannot believe it of Her Ladyship.’
Akitada snapped, ‘But you do not deny your master’s habits regarding females? I expect you know all about it. Who better than you?’
Fuhito gasped. ‘I?’ His hands clenched convulsively. He asked in a shaky voice, ‘Has my mother told you?’ Then the words tumbled out. ‘It’s not true. There was no truth to it. I never believed-’ He broke off and buried his face in his hands.
Akitada was stunned. What had he said? He had only assumed that a major-domo would be aware of his master’s affairs. Whatever nerve he had touched, this must be important. It must be the secret of Fuhito’s relationship with Kiyowara. Though he pitied the man and his mother, he could not let it pass.
‘I think you’d better tell me about it yourself,’ he said gently.
He had to wait until Fuhito calmed down and raised a distraught face. ‘I lost my only daughter a number of years ago. Motoko was only sixteen. A mere child when she… she was raped. She could not live with that misery.’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘They say suffering is like the forging of rough iron into a sharp sword. It has not been that way in our family.’
Akitada drew in a breath and glanced out through the open veranda doors at the elaborate landscape, then looked at the man’s grief-torn face and wondered if losing a grown daughter to suicide was more or less devastating than having carelessly exposed a small son to smallpox. He said heavily, ‘I am very sorry for your pain. Your mother mentioned your loss, but gave no details. I, too, lost a child. They say there is no greater grief. Can you tell me what happened?’
Fuhito’s hands made a helpless gesture before he tucked them into his sleeves. His voice shook a little. ‘Motoko was both beautiful and good. That summer she had just started to serve Her Ladyship and seemed very happy. They said later that the gods must have become jealous.’
This did not answer the question, or only partially. Akitada searched for a way to probe for what he suspected. In the end he was blunt. ‘Given Lord Kiyowara’s reputation with women, might he have been responsible?’
Fuhito flushed a deep crimson. He did not answer right away. Then he said, ‘If I had thought that he had behaved improperly towards my child, I would certainly have spoken to him. The house was always full of guests in those days. Taking advantage of someone of her birth would have meant nothing to a high-ranking noble.’
Akitada considered this. It was possible. And it would explain why Fuhito had stayed in the Kiyowaras’ service. Another dead end. He bowed his head. ‘Thank you, and forgive me for bringing back painful memories.’
Fuhito nodded. They rose and walked outside. It was fully dark now, but someone, perhaps Fuhito’s mother, had left a lighted lantern at the beginning of the path. Fuhito picked it up and lit the way to the gate. There they bowed to each other again, and Akitada walked out into the dark street. The gate rattled shut behind him, and the warm darkness received him like a stifling blanket of sadness.
And yet, was not the man who had nothing left to fear more likely to commit murder than anyone else?
THE TIGER AND THE RAT
They let Tora go first. He rushed across the short distance to the warehouse door, raised his foot, and kicked the door open. It splintered and flew back. He did not waste time trying to make out objects in the dim interior, but burst inside with an almighty yell.
The darkness was fetid with the stench of hops, sour wine, excrement, and blood. Shouts and curses erupted all around him. He lashed out at moving shadows, swinging the pole from side to side in powerful sweeps, making contact once or twice. The building filled with thuds, yells, and screams. People were running everywhere. Something hit him a glancing blow across one shoulder. He jumped aside, moving back from the melee because he was afraid of hitting his companions.
As his eyes grew accustomed to the half-light, he saw that the large space was partially filled with stacked bundles, casks, boxes, and handcarts. About eight youths, some armed with knives or sticks, milled in the center of the large room. A ninth was crawling out the door. All seemed less interested in fighting than in fleeing the building.
Cowards, Tora thought. Then he saw Jirokichi in the far corner, hanging from one of the rafters, lifeless and covered in blood.
Leaving the battle to the deaf mutes and the girl, he dropped his pole and ran to Jirokichi. There was a dark puddle of blood and piss in the dirt between his feet. He stank, and flies buzzed up when Tora got close. The Rat’s toes barely touched the ground. Too late, Tora thought. Poor Rat. It had been all for nothing, and he did not know how to tell Hoshina. He pulled the knife from his boot and cut the rope around Jirokichi’s wrists. There was blood everywhere on the body, and his hands slipped as he tried to ease Jirokichi to the ground. He fell with a thud.
As Tora bent over him, he felt a sharp kick to his backside and stumbled forward, falling across the body. He rolled off quickly and twisted around. The skinny youth loomed above him, his teeth bared in an ugly grin and his
