“That’s terrible.” Akitada shook his head in sympathy. “I know the feeling. The inspector’s laid up with a cold, or we’d be in the saddle going to the next inspection, where he’d keep me bent over my desk all night while he sleeps. Then we start all over again the next day. Have another cup. Still having people come about the murder, are you?”
The servant thawed a little and poured himself another.
“Yes. You can’t imagine the trouble that has caused. First the governor and the police, now all the prince’s friends, and I’ve got to get rooms ready and arrange for food. They expect only the best and the professor hates spending money. He employs only the three of us. Yuki takes care of the stables. That leaves Tatsuo and me. And you’ve seen Tatsuo. He spends all his time eating and resting his great hulk. Serving meals and refreshments in the lake pavilion is a great nuisance. We’re kept running and fetching between the lake and the house the best part of the day and into the night.” Akitada followed his gaze through the open doors to the pavilion and the glistening lake beyond. Sakamoto was again in close conversation with his guest.
“That’s where it happened, wasn’t it?” he asked. “Were you there?”
“No. We had already served. They send us away while they’re talking. And they wouldn’t let us touch the body afterwards.
They put him on a litter and covered him up before they let Yuki and Tatsuo carry him to the doctor’s house. I guess our hands weren’t fine enough to touch him, or our eyes to look on his dead face.”
Akitada shook his head. “And then you had to do the cleaning up. I heard a dog got to the dish of poison?” The servant sighed. “My dog. Poor Kuro. I was really fond of him. We always let him eat the leftovers. That dirty scoundrel of a killer!”
At the bottom of the garden the two men started toward the house.
“Uh-oh,” muttered the servant. “They’re coming back. I’ve got to run. Thanks for the wine.”
For a moment Akitada was tempted to make himself scarce, too. Dealing with Sakamoto had been one thing, but Kumo was suspicious. Well, he would just have to bluff it out.
When the two men entered from the veranda, Akitada rose and bowed deeply.
“So we meet again,” drawled Kumo, his eyes passing over Akitada as if he wanted to memorize his appearance. Today he wore a hunting robe of green brocade with white silk trousers, a costume suitable for riding and handsome on his tall, broad-shouldered figure. He smiled, but his eyes were cold.
Akitada smiled back. “I had not expected to meet you again so soon, sir. We left you only yesterday.” Kumo’s smile disappeared. “Yesterday you were a mere scribe. Today, I understand, you claim to be the governor’s emissary, empowered to gather new evidence which might clear his son in the murder of the Second Prince? You are a change-able fellow, Taketsuna.”
The bluntness of that left Akitada momentarily speechless.
“I . . . I beg your pardon?” he stammered. “Inspector Osawa entrusted me with a letter because he is too ill to bring it himself. I never claimed anything else.” Again that fleeting, mocking smile, and Akitada fought the uneasy feeling that he might be out of his depth with this man.
“So you kindly offered your talents to assist the professor in his response,” Kumo said. “I must say I am sorry I did not take the time to chat with you at my house. Your background is interesting. How exactly did you become involved with Lord Miyoshi?”
They were still standing. Sakamoto fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with the tone of the interrogation. Akitada controlled his nervousness and offered up the tale that had been concocted at the time of his assignment, hoping that the gentlemen from the sovereign’s office had not made any glaring mistakes, for he did not doubt for a minute that the high constable had kept himself thoroughly and minutely informed about the factions in the capital.
If Kumo found fault, he did not say so. When Akitada had finished, he regarded him thoughtfully for a few moments and then said, “My sympathies are entirely with any man who would oppose Miyoshi in this dispute. But I had better leave you both to your chore.”
Akitada, more puzzled than ever about Kumo, bowed and murmured his thanks.
“Well,” said Sakamoto, when they were alone, “we’d better get started. Please sit down. Here at my desk. And make use of my writing things. Now, what shall I say?” Akitada picked up the letter and scanned it. “The governor asks if you recall any odd happenings before or after the tragic event. Perhaps we can start with that.”
“Tell him no.”
“You want me to say that nothing out of the ordinary happened during the days preceding the prince’s visit?” Sakamoto frowned. “Nothing really strange. He sent a letter asking that the food not be too spicy. He had a delicate stomach, but I knew that. I must say I was surprised he ate the stew young Mutobe brought. I could tell it was highly spiced. That’s why I didn’t worry when he complained of a bellyache. Of course, now we know it was the poison.” Sakamoto shook his head.
“The prince always trusted too easily when it came to young men who captured his fancy.”
That remark startled Akitada. But he decided the professor was merely venting his ill humor again. “And after the prince’s death? Anything out of the ordinary then?” Sakamoto snorted. “Don’t be daft, young man. Everything was out of the ordinary then. We watched the prince die, Taira, Shunsei, and I. It was horrible. I was completely distraught. We were near the house when we heard him cry out and turned to see Toshito strangling him. At least that’s what it looked like. We rushed back, but the prince had already expired. Taira attacked Toshito, calling him a murderer. Toshito claimed he was helping the prince breathe, but I think he didn’t trust the poison and was making certain the prince would die.” Sakamoto shuddered. “It was a vicious crime against a son of the gods. Anyway, we called for a litter and had His Highness taken to Nakatomi.
He lives nearby and is the prince’s physician. He looked at the body, and later at the dead dog who’d licked the bowl, and said the prince had been poisoned. Taira had young Toshito arrested and charged with murder.”
“It must have been very upsetting to have this happen in your house and after one of your dinners. No doubt you were glad that the dog licked the bowl.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Akitada met Sakamoto’s frown with a bland face. “Nothing at all, sir. Since the source of the poison was quickly found, the local authorities could not suspect your kitchen staff. Or ask questions about the dishes you served. For example, was there anything with mushrooms? Or perhaps that local delicacy, blowfish?”
“There was certainly no blowfish. I cannot afford such ex-travagance. And all the dishes were perfectly wholesome. We all ate of them, except for Mutobe’s stew.” Well, that took care of the blowfish theory. Akitada asked,
“Who did the postmortem?”
“Nakatomi. There was no time to wait for Mutobe’s disreputable coroner. In the summer, a body decomposes quickly. And Nakatomi is a very able man, in my opinion. He wrote out the report himself and hand-delivered it to the governor.”
“And then?”
“We had a fine Buddhist funeral. No expense was spared.
The prince’s funeral pyre was twenty feet high.” Akitada wrote.
“The other information the governor asks for concerns those who attended the dinner. That would be Taira Takamoto and a young monk called Shunsei? Is there any chance, even a remote one, that either or both had a hand in this?”
“Certainly not. Lord Taira is a man of superior learning and of absolute loyalty to the prince. He’s an old man now, older than I am. When he was appointed tutor to Crown Prince Okisada, he was the most brilliant man in the capital. He loves the prince, and the prince’s death devastated him. In fact, he withdrew from all matters of this world until today.” So Taira was expected. “And Shunsei? How is he connected with the prince?”
Sakamoto frowned. “Shunsei belongs to the Konponji Monastery near Tsukahara. The prince enjoyed religious ceremonial. Being impressed with this young man’s devotion, he took him under his wing.” He bit his lip. “Perhaps he needed spiritual stimulation and was inspired by Shunsei’s fervor.” Apparently Shunsei had been tolerated only because Okisada had insisted on his presence. In fact, Sakamoto’s manner implied that Okisada had preferred men, or boys, to women. There had been gossip in the capital, and perhaps that had had something to do with Okisada’s being replaced as crown prince. More to the point, such a relationship might have considerable bearing on the
