The policeman drew himself up. “There’s no need for that. They will obey my orders.”
“Good, but it may make them more eager.”
The man passed along the offer and divided his sweepers into groups of three or four. They would spread out over a four-block area and call out if they found anything suspicious.
Akitada and Genba waited impatiently with the sergeant and one constable. Shortly there was a shout, and they ran to a house where two sweepers stood watch. One of them pointed to a neighboring house. “The old woman over there says four men went in a little while ago.”
“Secure the back,” commanded the sergeant, then blew his whistle. The other sweepers assembled. “All right. We’re raiding the place. Be ready to defend yourselves. They’re armed.”
They kicked in the front door and poured into the house. Shouts, thumps, and the sounds of breaking furniture came from inside. Akitada waited a moment, then borrowed the sergeant’s sword and followed with Genba. They walked into chaos. Sweepers were fighting sweepers swinging cudgels and metal prongs, the two policemen were shouting orders nobody paid attention to, and several characters were slipping away toward the rear of the house. Akitada and Genba skirted the combatants and went after them. Whoever was supposed to secure the back had ignored the order.
Three men were walking rapidly down a dark alley away from the house. Akitada and Genba caught up with them. Two of the men were unarmed, but the third had a sword.
“Halt!” shouted Akitada. “You’re under arrest.”
Lights came on in a house nearby. The two unarmed men immediately bolted, but the tall one with the sword turned to face them.
To Akitada’s surprise, he was Haseo’s double. In the dim light and with the sword in his hand, the resemblance was eerie. Akitada gasped, “Who are you?”
“None of your business, dog official.” The other man bared his teeth and raised his sword threateningly. A window opened in the house, and a man stuck out his head. When he saw armed men, he withdrew it quickly and slammed the window shut.
Akitada had got a good look at his opponent. Something about his stance and his sword hand was not right. Then he saw that, unlike Haseo, this man was left-handed. Or rather, he was using his left hand because his right was wounded. A thick bloodstained bandage covered most of his forearm.
“That is my sword,” Akitada snapped. “You attacked me and stole it.”
“You’re a liar. I’ve no need to steal swords,” said the other.
On second thought, the man who had taken the sword had certainly had the use of both hands. It was an impasse. Akitada wanted his sword but he also wanted to know if this man was related to Haseo. “You look like a man I once knew,” he said. “His name was Haseo.”
The other man’s face froze. His sword arm dropped to his side and the sword slid from his hand. He took a couple of steps backwards, then turned and ran.
Genba went to pick up the sword. “It’s not yours, sir. Funny. For a moment I thought he’d attack. I guess he just didn’t trust himself with his left hand,” he said.
Akitada went to inspect it. It was an ordinary weapon, the kind a military officer might be issued. Feeling both foolish and disappointed, he pushed it in his belt and said, “Somehow I don’t think that was the reason, but his reaction was certainly strange.”
They returned to the raided house, where the sergeant had given up the uneven battle and was gathering his few remaining sweepers. “No sign of your sword, sir,” he said in a disgusted voice, when Akitada returned his weapon. “We’ll let you know if it turns up.”
Akitada doubted it and told Genba, “Come, we’d better go home before something else happens.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It was nearly dawn when they reached home, but lights were blazing in the Sugawara residence. The gate was opened by the cook, a woman who liked her sleep and certainly never bothered with gates.
She was in a temper. After a perfunctory bow to her master, she told Genba, “I don’t know what Tora can be thinking of, arriving in the middle of the night with two sick strangers, and demanding that I cook for them. And you look terrible, too.”
Akitada, who was already crossing the courtyard to the house, swung around. “Tora’s back?”
When she nodded, they ran into the house, too relieved to consider the rest of the cook’s speech.
Tamako met her husband in the corridor. The meeting reminded Akitada unpleasantly of an earlier one when she had thought that Seimei might have smallpox. She held a lamp, and in the flickering light her eyes glittered.
“How could you permit this?” she cried, her voice shrill with panic. “Cook says Seimei admitted sick strangers to this house.”
Akitada was also uneasy about these unexpected guests, but he tried to calm her. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he said, “I doubt there’s any need for concern. Tora wouldn’t bring anyone who has smallpox. Where are they?”
She stepped back, letting his hand drop away. “In Seimei’s room. He’s treating them. You must make them go away. There are charity hospitals.”
All was quiet in Seimei’s room, but a thin line of light showed around the door. Akitada cleared his throat.
The door opened immediately and Seimei peered out.
“Oh, it’s you, sir,” he whispered. “Returned safely, may the gods be thanked.”
Akitada stepped in and saw three sleeping figures under quilted covers. He found Tora and gently shook his shoulder.
Seimei had followed him. “He was wounded in a sword fight,” he said anxiously.
Tora stirred, blinked against the light and slowly sat up, rubbing his face. “Ah, you’re back, sir,” he said with a yawn. “I meant to go looking for you, but Seimei wouldn’t let me.” He yawned again. “And the truth is, it’s been a long day and night.”
“I’m sorry to wake you.” Akitada squatted beside him. “How badly are you hurt?”
Tora grinned and whipped back the cover to reveal a thickly bandaged thigh. “Just a flesh wound. Seimei cleaned it and put some stinking salve on it. Feels better already.”
“And the others? Lady Sugawara is worried about smallpox.”
“They’ve just been knocked about a bit. The kid, Kinjiro, saved my life. The old man was locked up without food and water for days, but Seimei says he’ll come around.”
“Good.” Akitada hesitated. “Do you feel like talking now, or would you rather rest first?”
“Now. I’ve got to tell you. You’ll never believe it. That sword the swordsmith Sukenari lost? Matsue had it all along. And a lot of gold and silver besides.” Tora fumbled in his bedding and produced the sword.
Akitada glanced at it and laid it aside. “But what about the murder? Did you find out who killed the blind woman?”
Tora’s face fell. “No. I know who didn’t kill her. I figured it was Kata, but she was his good luck charm and he thinks his business is doomed now.” He gave a dry chuckle. “He may be right. It will be. He’s a gang boss.”
Genba came in and crouched on Tora’s other side. “How are you, brother?” he asked anxiously.
“I’ll do. What happened to your nose?”
“I put it where it didn’t belong.” Genba grinned. “Well, did you have any luck?”
Akitada said, “Apparently not. At least the court is not in session at the moment. The sickness has given us extra time. That reminds me. I’d better explain to my wife about our guests.”
Tamako still hovered in the darkness of the corridor. Akitada closed the door behind him and said, “They don’t have smallpox. Just assorted wounds and bruises.”
“Thank heaven.” She came a little closer. “You are quite sure?”
