The more he thought about it,Kaoru’s education and his difference from the other outcasts were mysteries hehad not pursued because there were more urgent problems to be solved. Was thisjust a minor puzzle, or was it at the heart of the Uesugi stranglehold on thisprovince? And how was it connected to Kaibara’s death?
“Akitada?”
He was snatched back to thepresent. “What?”
“I only meant that you cannotknow the situation in the capital. If you release the arrow, it may merelywound the bear, or kill its cub. Then you may be hurt instead.”
How astute she was. “Yes. I know. That is the problem.” He turned his attention to the arrow again,twisting it this way and that.
Tamako frowned. “A hunter might wait for another opportunity,” she remarked anxiously.
“Yes. You are quite right.Thank you.” He smiled at her, noting that the protective hand rested on her softly rounded belly again. Women played by their own rules, followed their own concept of honor, he thought and was surprised at the discovery.
She blushed as if she had read his mind. “Forgive me. It was not my place to advise you.”
“On the contrary. I think you have helped me solve another mystery.”
“Oh?” Her pale face lit up,then looked puzzled. “Again?”
“Yes. Your final match in our shell game led me to Sunada.”
“The ladies with the lutes!”She clapped her hands. “But how?”
“The murdered woman owned a lute, a very expensive, rare one. After the murder, that lute was gone. I realized that only Sunada could have bought it, or had the taste to do so. And he would have taken it away with him.”
“How horrible!” Tamako’s eyeswere large with shock. Then she added quickly, “But he must have loved her very much to have spoiled her so,” and her eyes lit up as if a thought had crossed her mind. She glanced at the shell-matching game. “Did the game … cost very much?” she asked, half hopeful, half afraid.
Akitada did not know how to answer. He had paid much less than it was worth. Had not the curio dealer said the shell-matching game had been ordered as a gift for an Uesugi lady years ago? He had a dim memory of those same flowers and grasses among the decorations on a suit of armor in the Takata armory.
Would Tamako think he did not love her? The female mind drew the most astonishing conclusions sometimes. He said, joking though his heart was afraid, “However you might rate my affection,I certainly would never entertain any murderous thoughts.”
Puzzlement, then comprehension and embarrassment passed quickly over her face. But to Akitada’s relief, she burst into laughter. Tamako laughed like a child, eyes sparkling, head thrown back, pink lips revealing perfect white teeth. She rarely practiced the custom of blackening her teeth as ladies in the capital did. And this was not ladylike laughter either. It was wholly infectious, and Akitada joined in.
The door opened, and Tora looked in curiously. Behind him Hamaya and the two clerks craned their necks.
Akitada glanced back at his wife.Her hand now covered her mouth in the prescribed manner, but above it her eyes sparkled with mirth.
“Come in, Tora,” said Akitada,smiling at his wife, who rose and, bowing to him, left the room. “What is it?”
“Kaoru sent me. Sunada wants totalk to you. Kaoru doesn’t dare leave, not after what happened with the Omeyawoman. He’s afraid Sunada might kill himself.”
“Thank you,” Akitada said,jumping up, “this could be important. Anything I can use to avoid open war withUesugi would be heaven-sent.”
The atmosphere around the jail was tense. Guards manned the entrance to keep away the curious. In spite of this, two cripples had taken up position near the steps and raised sad faces to Akitada. He could not understand their piteous cries and was about to toss them some coppers, when Tora said, “Sunada’s servants. They followed him and have sat here ever since.”
In the common room more constables snapped to attention. Kaoru was seated outside Sunada’s cell door.He looked tired, but rose immediately and bowed to Akitada.
“Sergeant,” said Akitada, “I want you to send one of the constables to Captain Takesuke and request five of his best men to carry a dispatch to the capital.” His eyes fell on the barred window of a cell door which was suddenly crowded with three familiar faces.
Only Takagi’s wore the usual vacant smile. Umehara looked pale and frightened, and Okano had been weeping.
“Why are they locked up again?”Akitada asked.
“I did not want to take any chances this time, sir,” Kaoru said in a low voice. “Not after my recent negligence.”
“Let them out.”
The three men tumbled out hurriedly to express their gratitude. Okano, who had a flowered scarf tied about his face, looked more like a farmer’s wife than ever. He insisted on kissing the hem of Akitada’s gown. Umehara was gabbling something about salmon stew, and Takagi asked for his gold coins again.
The confused scene was an unwelcome reminder to Akitada that he must close their case officially. Their freedom depended on Sunada’s testimony in court.
“Get everybody out,” Akitadasnapped to Kaoru, “and take care of that message. Immediately! It’s urgent.Then come back here.”
When they were alone, Akitada had Tora unlock Sunada’s cell and went in.
The change in the man was shocking. The once smooth, shining face of the wealthy merchant was gray, and the skin sagged. He looked up at Akitada from heavy-lidded eyes without bothering to rise or bow. “I could not sleep,” he said.
Akitada wondered whether this was a complaint about jail conditions or more expressions of his grief and despair. To his surprise, it was another matter altogether.
“Those three men.” Sunada’s eyes went to the wall that separated the two cells. “All night they talked.There is one-his words are those of a child, but he speaks with a man’s voice.He talked of his father and mother. And he wept for them like a homesick child.It was terrible to hear his weeping. Another fellow wept with him. This one cried like a woman. And the old man talked about food all night. He was worried his salmon would go bad. Are they the men accused of Sato’s murder?”
Akitada nodded.
Sunada sighed. “They are innocent. I expect they have gone mad expecting to be executed. Why do some men fear death so much? I welcome it.”
“They are not mad,” said Akitada.“Until recently they moved freely about the jail. Being locked up again has frightened them. But even when I first met them, they were not concerned about dying because they knew they were innocent. Their worries concern the problemsof life. Takagi is a slow-witted farmer’s son who is homesick. Okano is an actor who is out of work and alone in the world. And Umehara has discovered the joys and frustrations of cooking.” Akitada paused. Sunada had surprised him again. He said tentatively, “I had hoped to prove their innocence and release them this week.”
“And now you cannot do so?”
“Not without your help.” Sunada’s words had given Akitada new hope. Perhaps he had misjudged the man. Whateverhis crimes, he was not without pity. But was it reasonable to expect a favorfrom someone he was about to sentence to death? Sunada was guilty of triple murder and treason. Why should he care about justice in the abstract? Why woulda criminal who faced execution in its most cruel form-treason against the emperorwas punishable by disemboweling before decapitation or by being beaten todeath-care about three poor men? Takagi, Okada, and Umehara had neither ambition nor potential. They were the dregs of a society Sunada had risen from through lifelong effort and relentless pursuit of power.
But Sunada nodded. “That is why I sent for you. I am prepared to help you.”
Akitada was astonished and relieved. They were alone, but outside in the common room he could hear Kaoruin subdued conversation with Tora.
He said, “As you know, Mrs.Sato was about to be arrested for the murder of her husband. Now her death
