This reprimand took place in front of grinning constables and various locals who were waiting to report whatever had brought them here. Maeda stood at attention, his face a fixed mask.
When Okata paused to catch his breath, the newly appointed inspector of Chikuzen Tribunal said, “Never mind, Sergeant. Get on with the case. As for you, Captain, I’ll take those reports. The governor prefers to have them submitted to him first.”
Okata’s jaw sagged; he stared at Tora with a wrinkled brow. “Who the devil are you?”
This was the second such question of the day, and Tora sighed again. “Bad memory, Captain? We met yesterday at the crime scene. I’m Lieutenant Sashima, inspector for the province of Chikuzen.”
Silence fell in the room. Okata goggled and gulped. Then he said, “Nonsense. You have no authority here. We deal directly with the governor general in Dazaifu.”
“New governor, new rules,” snapped Tora. He turned back to the sergeant, “I came to ask about progress with the Mitsui murder. The governor is interested in the Chinese angle.”
“Absolutely not,” blustered the captain. “I forbid it. You cannot just walk in here and give orders.”
Tora cast up his eyes. “Captain, if you want a quarrel with the governor, let’s discuss it in private. You don’t want to lose face before half the town.”
Okata turned beet red. He turned and walked away, followed by Tora who glanced at Maeda and winked. In Okata’s office, Tora did not wait for the captain to speak. As soon as the door was shut, he said, “You cannot win this game, Okata. Lord Sugawara is your superior, and I have authority here. If we don’t get cooperation and obedience from you, you will lose your appointment. In fact, from what I’ve seen so far, you’re incompetent as a police officer. I have so informed the governor. Your post hangs by a mere spider’s thread. Now sit down and finish those reports while your sergeant and I clear up the murder.”
Okata’s face had lost all its color. “Y-you … I’ll file a complaint. This is outrageous!”
“By all means. Just remember what I said.”
Tora returned to the front of the building. “Let’s go, Maeda. There’s work to be done.”
Maeda gave him a mock salute, and they walked out together. “So that’s why they call you Tora? Because you snarl like a tiger?”
Tora grinned. “It felt good. By the way, I’ll send your horses back. Seems the inhabitants of Minami have been looking after them for us. And here we thought they were thieves.”
Maeda laughed. “They’re not bad people, you know. The last governor treated them like scum. They were owed for many months of work and then he dismissed them. Either anger or desperation drove them to it, as the case may be. I had a word with the headman. Did they offer to come back to work?”
“They did, and my master approved. But we are to keep an eye on them.”
Maeda laughed again. “I like your boss. I like you, too, for getting me out of doing the reports. Shall we go see the Mitsui children?”
“Why not?” Tora looked forward to the visit. “Do they know what happened?”
“Oh, yes. Word travels fast. But I thought I’d better talk to them myself, and the longer we wait the more time they’ll have to make up lies.” Maeda grinned. “The daughter’s called Atsuko. She married a shrine priest. The son is Hiroshi. He’s working as a porter at the Hakozaki harbor and may have met his father on the day of the murder. We’ll see her first. Her brother will be at work.”
“Who benefits from the mother’s death? Did she have any money or property?”
“You saw their house. They’re poor. In fact, I’ve been wondering why the children haven’t helped their parents out. My friend with the tiny trees said Mitsui’s wife had to take a job cleaning a merchant’s house.”
“Yes. That’s right.” Tora thought about it. “Atsuko means ‘kind child’, but this daughter doesn’t seem to live up to her name. Children should honor their parents. It’s unfeeling to ignore them.”
Maeda nodded.
Tora was looking about him as they walked. “Mitsui’s wife was Chinese,” he said. “Are there many rich Chinese here?”
“Oh no. Most of them are as poor as our people, just scraping by like old Mitsui and his wife. But some have found good fortune here. They’re silk merchants or deal in spices, medicines, religious objects, and art. All of it brought here from China or Koryo, as the case may be. There’s great demand for such things.”
“I thought trade with China was illegal.”
“Not all of it. The last governor was a good customer of Merchant Feng. Feng’s shop is over there. He sells silk and paintings from China.”
They were walking along Hakata’s main thoroughfare. To their right was a long one-story building with a tiled roof and ornately carved window screens. The name “Feng” was inscribed in a large black character on the red lacquer sign above the door. The open shutters revealed dim spaces inside, and two brawny men stood guard on either side of the entrance.
Tora eyed the place with interest. He noticed that the guards and several people on the street wore strange clothes-long narrow pants under slender belted robes that had slits up the sides. On their heads they had square black cloth caps unlike those worn by his own people. He asked, “Are you sure they don’t sell smuggled goods?”
“The harbor police deals with smugglers, but Chinese ships come right into the harbor. There are smugglers, but mostly in Satsuma and Osumi provinces.”
The shrine priest’s house was on the outskirts of Hakata in a neat and substantial compound. Presumably, Mitsui’s daughter had no need for her parents’ money or property. They were admitted by a woman servant.
The priest, a gray-haired man called Kuroda, received them in his study. “Ah, Maeda,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve been expecting you. How are you? The maid says you wish to see my wife also?”
Tora recognized the priest, who had been part of the reception committee, and the priest recognized Tora. They bowed to each other. “I’m honored,” said Kuroda, looking from Tora to Maeda and back but sounding not in the least honored. “Has what happened to Mitsui’s wife attracted the attention of the governor?”
“Not quite,” Maeda said gravely. “Perhaps your lady had best be called, sir.”
The priest shot him a suspicious glance. “If you insist, but this is very unusual under the circumstances.” He sent for his wife.
The woman who came was quite beautiful, many years younger than her husband, and dressed in the full Japanese robes of stiff silk, but over them she wore an embroidered Chinese jacket which would have tempted an imperial lady. She did not look particularly distraught.
“Sergeant Maeda and an, er, official from the governor’s office want to speak to you,” her husband told her.
She eyed them placidly.
Maeda looked uncomfortable and cleared his throat. “It’s about your mother, Mrs. Kuroda. I’m afraid it’s complicated.” He paused.
She stared at him with a frown.
“Perhaps you should sit down. No? I’m sorry to tell you that she died from a very violent attack.”
The news had little effect on the beautiful Mrs. Kuroda. She nodded and said, “The woman who died is not my mother. My father married again. It was some hoodlum, I suppose. I take it my father is seeing to the arrangements?”
Tora cleared his throat. “I’m afraid your father has been arrested for her murder,” he told her bluntly. “We’re here to ask you some questions about your parents.”
The priest gasped, turned pale, and sat down abruptly. “Arrested for murder? How terrible! What happened? A quarrel? An accident?” He gasped again and put a hand over his eyes. “My dear, some water. I feel faint.”
His wife turned on her heel and left the room.