CHAPTER NINE
When Seimei quietly entered the next morning, he found his master already awake and sitting at his desk, surrounded by books and documents, and making rapid notes by the light of a candle.
“Good morning, Seimei,” Akitada said absently, dipping brush into ink and writing some more. “Is Tora up? I must see him before I leave for the office.”
Seimei set down his oil lamp and came over to peer at Akitada’s face. “Umhum,” he muttered. “That still looks very bad, sir. Is it painful? Can you open the eye at all?”
Akitada paused in his writing. “It hurts and I cannot open it. So what? Life does not come to a halt because of a black eye. There is a great deal of work to be done the next few weeks.”
Seimei frowned. “Perhaps the eye itself is damaged. We should call a physician.”
“Nonsense.” Akitada bent to his task again.
“At least go in a little later this morning and let me apply more compresses.”
“No. Now go get Tora and my morning rice.”
Seimei left, shaking his head.
Akitada was at last filled with excitement and hope. In the past hour or so he had gathered data and quotations from the library of chronicles, law books, and Chinese classics that he and his ancestors before him had collected. The memorial was the most momentous work he had ever been engaged in. In addition, there were several other exciting and important projects in hand and, for once, he had the freedom to engage in them. He hoped fervently that Soga would stay away for a long, long time.
Tora came in, wearing the clothes of a poor day laborer. His shirt and short pants were of cheap cotton, he had tied up his hair in an old rag, and he was barefoot. He was followed by Seimei carrying a tray with a steaming teapot and a bowl of gruel. Seimei cast disapproving glances at Tora’s attire.
Akitada washed out his brush and said briskly, “Sit down, Tora. Seimei, please pour tea for both of us and then you may leave us for a little while.”
Tora grinned. “No tea for me, sir. I had some wine with my morning rice. Wine warms the blood and encourages proper digestion.” He cast a sly look toward Seimei.
“What complete nonsense,” Seimei cried. “As I have told you before, wine overheats the blood and sours the stomach. It is for that very reason that it should be avoided in the morning. Tea has the opposite effect. You will be sorry in another hour when you start belching and getting drowsy.”
“Stop the wrangling,” Akitada interrupted. “There’s work to be done. Tora, I have to be at the ministry this morning, and possibly into the afternoon. You must begin the investigation alone. I suggest you seek out Lieutenant Ihara and discuss what progress he has made. Perhaps you can work together on checking known gangs and their activities.” He saw that Tora looked mulish and asked, “What is wrong?”
“I don’t like Ihara. Besides, I work better alone.”
“Don’t be silly. He may have learned something important in the meantime. And a police officer has certain prerogatives that you don’t have.”
“Not with crooks.”
“You have a point. But at least make sure that you speak to him first. And be pleasant. He could have made your release much more difficult. Why are you wearing those clothes?”
“I thought it might be better if I blended in with the crowd this time.”
“Ah. Quite right. You do look more like those toughs yesterday. But Ihara first.”
Tora sighed. “All right. Anything else?”
“The vendors in the market may know about Tomoe’s regular visitors.”
Tora nodded. “I was going to start there.”
Akitada drummed his fingers on the desk and thought. Should he send Tora back to the street where the nun was attacked? No, better not. Tora had improved past all recognition during his years of service with Akitada, but his manners were not quite up to dealing with the people who lived there. Of course, Professor Takahashi might welcome the very handsome Tora. Foolish thought. Tora definitely could not handle a proposition from Takahashi with diplomacy.
“What’s so funny?”
“After my run-in with the thugs yesterday, I spoke with one of the neighbors-a retired professor who offers private tutoring to handsome boys. I was wondering if you might have better luck with him than I.”
Tora chuckled. “I doubt it, sir. I bet it was only your bruised face that turned him off. In a couple of days, you’ll be as handsome as ever and have him eating out of your hand.” He gave a snort and added in an undertone, “Or whatever.”
Akitada ignored the coarse suggestion and said, “It’s too bad that I’m so busy at the moment. That nun knows something…” He broke off, his mouth open with surprise. “Great heaven! She wasn’t a nun at all.”
“No nun?” Tora looked interested. “You mean she was an ordinary girl in nun’s clothes? Was she pretty?”
“Not an ordinary girl. A noblewoman, I think, and quite pretty. And wearing perfume. I was so preoccupied with the brute who slammed me against the wall and very nearly blinded me that I forgot the silk she wore under the nun’s habit. And her veil had slipped. I think her hair was long.”
Tora whistled. “What luck! Silk underclothes. Brother, how I wish I’d been there!”
Akitada regretted his words and said sharply, “Really, Tora. The point is she came to your hearing in disguise. That means she’s respectable, belongs to the upper classes, and certainly undertook that errand without the approval of her family and, as it turned out, at considerable risk. Why would a young woman of that class take such a chance?”
“Well, it wasn’t for my sake, so it figures it was for Tomoe. Bet you she’s one of the ladies Tomoe used to sing to.”
“Perhaps, but she wouldn’t take such chances just because she felt sorry for a blind entertainer. No, I think she knows something of Tomoe’s past, or she’s involved in the same dangerous game which cost Tomoe her life.”
Tora thought. “She’d hardly be working with a gang. If she knows the killer, he wasn’t a thug. Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place.”
Akitada sighed. “We must find her. Whatever she knows is both secret and dangerous. As soon as I can get away from the office I’ll go back and talk to the neighbors again. This time I’ll ask about a young woman who is probably married and part of a family in that quarter. Meanwhile, you’d better see Ihara and then go into the city. Good luck!”
Tora spent the best part of the morning looking for Lieutenant Ihara. Tora’s poor clothes were no help in getting information from the constables. Finally, one of them sent him to the Eastern Prison. When Tora got there, a guard recognized him and, unaware that Tora had been released, thought he was escaping and tried to throw him back into a cell. The confusion was finally cleared up, but not until Tora had gathered more bruises. Ihara was not there and was not expected.
In an increasingly rebellious mood Tora retraced his steps.
This time he took up his stand in the courtyard of police headquarters and asked every red-coat passing by for Ihara. They ignored him until a burly sergeant came to investigate. “If they told you he’s not here, that’s where he is,” said the sergeant with confusing logic. “We’re too busy to talk to every lout who walks in here with questions. Go away or I’ll have you thrown out.”
Perhaps he would have been treated better if he had worn his neat blue robe and black cap, but that had proved a distinct disadvantage when dealing with the criminal classes. Tora retreated to the gate and fumed helplessly, until he saw Kobe arriving. The red-coats stood to attention, and Tora blocked his way.
“Sir,” he cried, bowing to the superintendent. “I wonder if you might help me.”
A collective gasp went around the constables. Two of them jumped forward, shouting, “Your pardon, Honorable Superintendent,” and grabbed Tora to drag him away.
Tora shook them off. “You see,” he said to Kobe, “all of these bas-er, constables-claim they don’t know where Lieutenant Ihara is, which is surely a strange thing in a well-run police department. I wouldn’t trouble you,
