and explained that they might have moved elsewhere, he said scornfully, “Well, I must try my best to find them for you and perhaps I had better plan to take them into custody also. Are you willing to put them into a cell if I bring them to you?”
The sergeant gaped. “Er, sir, it’s not a good idea for an ordinary citizen to attempt arrests. These men are known to be dangerous.”
“Are they? And yet you leave them free to rape, rob, and terrorize the ordinary citizens.”
Akitada stormed out of police headquarters.
The street where Akitada had last seen the young woman was empty. He was walking along the wall where the third man had thrown down the woman when he heard the music.
The sound was very faint and came from the other side of the wall, from the property that was said to be uninhabited. Someone was playing a zither. Akitada stopped. The faintness, he thought, was due to the fact that the musician was plucking the strings very softly. He was momentarily enchanted and stood there on a warm and scented afternoon, listening, imagining a beautiful woman daydreaming of her lover.
But he had business to attend to. If someone had returned to this residence, he would ask his questions there before calling on the neighbors again. He quickly walked around the corner and to the main gate, where he knocked loudly.
As before, there was no reply. The gate remained stubbornly closed. He listened. The music had stopped. He stepped back and looked at the gatehouse. Like the gate it was an elaborate structure with a sweeping, tile- covered roof and carved beams and shutters. On the street side, a wooden grate allowed the gatekeeper to see who wanted admittance. The room behind was dark and had seemed unoccupied, but now Akitada thought he noticed a slight movement there. He went closer and peered through the grate. “Open up this instant. This is an official matter,” he called out.
In vain. No answer came from the gatehouse, except the soft sound of a door being closed. Then, silence. He waited a little longer, angry and suspicious. Then he crossed the street to knock at the gate of Lady Kose again.
The same little maid looked out and recognized him. To his surprise, she unlatched the gate immediately and admitted him to a crowded courtyard filled with many large and small containers in which small shrubs and trees were growing. She bowed and said, “This insignificant person humbly apologizes for stupidly turning the honored gentleman away yesterday.”
“Ah. Well, you were no doubt frightened by my appearance.”
She risked a sideways glance. “Yes, sir.”
“May I speak to your lady today?”
“Yes, sir. Please come.”
Akitada followed her, looking bemusedly from her tidy little figure to the many potted plants she was skirting with the practice of familiarity. “Someone here is a fine gardener,” he commented.
“My lady takes great pleasure in her plants.”
Lady Kose was seated on her veranda, wrapped in a large shapeless grey garment that he took at first for a nun’s robe. His heart skipped, but then he saw that she was surrounded by snippets of greenery, bits of wire, small knives, and assorted pebbles, hard at work on a miniature azalea bush growing from a shallow earthenware dish.
“This is the gentleman from yesterday, my lady,” announced the little maid.
Lady Kose looked up. She must be in her eighties, Akitada thought, her skin pale and almost transparent, marked with a million fine lines of age so that it resembled very costly paper with thin bits of dry grass embedded in it. Her eyes were still sharp, though.
And so was her voice. “I am so glad you returned. I told Kiko it was quite unconscionable to turn away a wounded man, but the girl is very protective of me. Please accept my apologies.”
Akitada smiled, bowed, introduced himself, and was invited to take a seat on the veranda. Lady Kose offered him refreshments, which he politely refused. He responded by paying her compliments on her work with the azalea. She was inordinately pleased by these, hiding her smile behind dirt-stained fingers. “I dabble a little in making my small world appear larger,” she said and gestured at the garden. Akitada saw that its size was modest but appeared to encompass a wide and varied landscape. The only full-sized trees belonged to Lady Kose’s neighbors. They stretched their enormous limbs over her garden walls as if they were reaching greedily for the toy-like cushions of clipped azaleas and the miniature moon bridges that spanned a tiny stream. The flowering camellia trees had already dropped their petals in the recent heat, but late azaleas still bloomed in shades of rose and crimson. Dwarfed black pines, maples, and cypresses grew from small hills and mountains, and the stream wound, like a diminutive river, between them and flowed into a tiny pond that reflected the cloudless sky above. Small birds seemed to feel at home here, and somewhere a cicada sang. Lady Kose’s retreat looked unreal-an island of peace surrounded by a threatening world.
Convention required more expressions of interest and small courtesies. Eventually the old lady signaled a return to the purpose of Akitada’s visit. “I trust you are not unduly troubled by your injury?” she inquired politely.
“No. It will soon heal. However, I have been trying in vain to find the young woman who was the cause of it.”
Lady Kose’s eyes widened. She dropped the knife which had been trimming an azalea twig. “You were attacked by a female?” Her tone and expression showed how deeply shocked she was. “A fox spirit or a goblin, surely.”
Akitada laughed. “Not at all. The damage was done by a very real thug, and the young lady was also as substantial as you and I. I happened along and interfered when three hoodlums waylaid her not far from here.”
She clapped her hands. “Oh, just like the brave Sadamori who captured a gang of robbers all by himself.”
“Well, not really. They got away. And I also lost the young lady in the process. I wondered if you could help me find her again.”
Lady Kose was overcome with emotion. She clasped her hands together and, forgetting to cover her mouth, smiled at him with blackened teeth. “What a romantic tale!” she cried. “Young lovers separated by fate and yearning for each other. It’s Lord Narihira and the Ise Princess all over again. I must remember to note it down later. Oh, how I hope you will find her and live happily ever after.”
Akitada was beginning to feel a little out of his depth. “Er, I am afraid the lady is a stranger to me. I am investigating a murder and think she may have some information.”
Now Lady Kose was nearly quivering with excitement. “A murder? Perhaps a crime of passion or a feud between families? And the killers attacked this young woman also? How terrible! But you came to her rescue and, like Yorimasa, you will slay the monsters.”
This conversation was becoming difficult. The old lady seemed determined to make up her own fantastic story. Akitada said firmly, “Thank you for your good opinion of me, but I must make a start first. This young woman was dressed as a nun, but I have reason to believe that she is really a married woman who may live in one of the houses nearby.” Heaven only knew what she would make of this.
But Lady Kose made an abrupt return to the real world. “A young gentlewoman, you say? Hmm. It wasn’t Kiko or I, of course.” She giggled. “Secretary Ki’s wives are all of middle age, though his first lady has been talking of taking the veil. I believe Secretary Ki is becoming difficult these days. Older men, you know. Then there is Professor Takahashi. But of course he is a bachelor. No women in his house at all.” She twitched her nose. “And Wakasa has sent his family to the country, as has Minister Soga. His Excellency Enshin is a widower, and Assistant Lieutenant Akizane keeps his place only for amusements. His family lives elsewhere. Lord Yasugi, who owns the large villa across the street, comes for an occasional brief visit, but he has returned to his estates. I am afraid there are no young gentle-women hereabouts.”
“I think somebody must still live in the Yasugi house. I heard a zither when I passed. When I knocked at the gate, someone was peering out at me from the gatehouse, but nobody opened.”
She stared at him. “Hah!” she said. “I wonder.”
“Could someone be hiding in the villa?”
“You mean the young woman who was dressed up as a nun?”
“Yes.” It sounded far-fetched and he added, “Or someone who may have seen her.”
