“Maeda and I will talk to some more neighbors. Someone must have seen something that night.” He made it a point to praise Maeda and mentioned his warning to Captain Okata.
Akitada nodded. “You did right. I have no use for men like Okata and want to establish proper protocol from the start. Crimes committed in Hakata are to be reported to me. If the man gives you any more problems, I’ll remove him.”
Tora grinned. “Maeda would make a good chief. I like him.”
“We’ll see. I’m interested in the doll maker for another reason. You said someone paid her in gold before her death? Any idea who it was?”
“She was working for Mr. Hayashi. But Suyin says it was payment for her dolls.”
Akitada thought. “Hayashi is the head of the merchants’ guild. A wealthy man?”
“Oh, yes. Suyin mentioned how fine his house is.”
“Saburo, see what you can find out about Hayashi.”
Saburo brightened.
“Very well. Now it’s my turn.” Akitada told of the conversation with the shrine priest Kuroda and his visit to Feng’s shop, mentioning the odd incident with the dolls. “It would have been sufficient to tell a customer these dolls were already sold. Perhaps it’s just the fact that this big Chinese bully didn’t speak our language well, but I got the strangest feeling both the salesman and the servant wanted me gone.” He smiled. “I got a very good price on two of the better dolls to send to the children.”
“Yuki doesn’t play with dolls,” Tora said. “Did they have anything a bit more manly?”
“Not really. But you’ll surely find something for your son. We’ll send our gifts with the next boat. You’d best write to Hanae while there’s time.”
“I miss them already.” Tora looked wistful. Taking a deep breath, he added, “Well, if that’s it, I’m off to meet Maeda.”
*
At Hakata police headquarters, Tora was told Maeda was at the jail, questioning the prisoner again. Tora thought it an excellent time to have a look at the conditions there.
It was not up to the standards in the capital, though it was large enough. The cells were dirty and prisoners were chained in airless, dim spaces. The place stank of human waste and sour food. The prisoners sat or lay in the dim spaces. One of them was weeping. In one cell were two women. They came to the door when Tora looked in. Both were young and filthy. One smiled and licked her lips. “How about it, handsome? I’ll show you a good time for some decent food.”
Tora also did not like the looks of the guards, three in number. They were dirty and brutish. The guard room was decorated with whips, chains, and various jitte and other metal instruments used to subdue obstreperous suspects. Some of these still showed traces of blood.
He said nothing, however, saving the information for his master, and instead joined Maeda, who was leaning against the wall of Mitsui’s cell.
Mitsui looked, if anything, worse than the day he had been arrested. The bruises had darkened on his skinny body, and his shirt was now torn, bloodstained, and filthy. He was very pale, but otherwise calm, almost listless.
Maeda’s greeting was followed by an apologetic, “Sorry about the state of the place. I try to tell the captain, but it doesn’t do any good.”
Tora nodded. “How are you, Mr. Mitsui?”
The elderly man sighed. “Not too bad,” he croaked. “They did beat me terrible at first, but Sergeant Maeda has put a stop to that. It’s much better now.”
Tora looked at the dim, filthy place with its thin, stained grass mat meant for both sitting and sleeping, at the refuse pail in the corner, and at the earthenware pitcher of water. Mitsui was chained like the other prisoners.
“We’ve gone over the events of that day and night again,” Maeda said. “Mitsui hasn’t changed his story. I told him his son couldn’t account for the extra hours Mitsui claims he spent in Hakozaki. He has no explanation except to say he had other business to attend to.”
“What kind of business?” Tora asked the prisoner.
Mitsui peered up at him. “Talking to people about selling my dolls. I don’t know who they were. Ships come and go in Hakozaki.”
Maeda frowned. “You see the problem, Mitsui, don’t you? You can’t account for your time. And you didn’t report your wife’s murder until the next morning. She was killed at least eight hours earlier. You claim you got home shortly after the evening rice. You must have found her dead.”
Mitsui looked away. “It may have been later. It was dark already. And I didn’t bother to light a lamp; I went to our room, lay down, and went to sleep.”
“You slept next to your dead wife? In her blood?” Tora’s disbelief was palpable.
Mitsui’s face crumpled. “I can’t help it,” he cried. “I didn’t know she was dead.” Tears appeared in his red-rimmed eyes.
“You must have been blind drunk.” Tora snarled.
Mitsui stopped bawling and hiccupped. “I did stop for a cup or two on the way,” he muttered.
Maeda moved impatiently. “What happened to the knife? We looked. There was no such knife in your house or outside it.”
Mitsui’s eyes went around the cell as if he could make the knife reappear. “They must’ve taken it. I don’t know where it is.”
Tora said, “Your wife Mei had received five pieces of gold the day before she died. What happened to the money?”
Mitsui stared at him. “Five pieces of gold? That’s crazy. She got twenty coppers a month for cleaning the Hayashis’ house. I told her they’d pay more if she wasn’t such a lazy cow.”
“Nice!” muttered Tora in disgust, and turned away.
“We’ll be back, Mitsui,” said Maeda. “You’d better think long and hard about what you did, or the guards will use the whips again.”
Mitsui moaned.
Outside, Maeda said, “I’m sorry you had to see the jail. As for Mitsui, I suspect he’s stubborn rather than confused about that day.”
“He’s a bastard of a husband. I wouldn’t put murder past him. Are we going to talk to the neighbors now?”
“Yes. We’ll see the ones we didn’t get a chance to question.” Maeda sighed. “It’s about as stubborn a case as I’ve ever seen. We have nothing so far.”
They returned to the street where the murder had occurred, but this time Maeda pounded on a gate directly across from the Mitsuis.
Nothing happened for a long time, then a woman’s voice asked from the other side, “What do you want?”
“Police. Open up.”
There was a short delay, then the bar scraped back and the gate opened, revealing a young woman’s face with bright black eyes, red cheeks, and two glossy wings of hair framing it. She smiled at Maeda, and dimples appeared in her cheeks.
Tora gave a silent whistle and grinned. So this was the slut.
Her eyes went to him and widened a little. “How nice!” she said softly, looking from one to the other. “I’ve been wishing for company. Come in, my dears, come in.” She took Maeda’s sleeve and pulled him inside. Tora followed eagerly. She slammed the gate shut. “That’ll make the old hags happy,” she said with a giggle. “They’ll talk about it for weeks.”
Maeda cleared his throat. “I’m here on police business.”
She cocked her head and put her hands at her small waist. “Of course you are, my dear, but they don’t know that. They’d much rather think something else.”
Maeda shook his head and sighed. “You’ll be the death of me yet, Yoko. I’m a married man and a public servant. All right, let’s go inside. I want to know what you can tell me about the Mitsuis across the street.”
She glanced at Tora. “Who’s your friend? Is he a public servant, too?”
Tora bowed. “I’m Tora and always at the service of beautiful ladies.”
“He works for the governor and he’s married, too,” Maeda said with a reproving glance.
She laughed. “Well, so am I. Come in, you two. You’ll be safe enough.”
Tora doubted it very much as he walked behind her, watching her shapely bottom wiggle on the way into the house. “Where’s your husband?” he asked.