The room swam before Akitada’s eyes. To be sure, Kyushu was a special case as administrative areas of the nation went, but surely a governor could not permit outside powers to interfere in the administration of his province? He tried to clear his head and review the laws applicable to provincial administrations. Commanding officers of the police were dispatched from the capital to the various provinces, but they served only with the approval of the governor.
Akitada bit his lip. “I regret Captain Okata rushed here before my report could reach you, sir. Okata was dismissed for cause. He has shown gross negligence in the past and is universally despised by the people in Hakata. There is reason to think he is responsible for a miscarriage of justice in a recent murder case where he suppressed evidence. In addition, he has proved to be impossible to work with, ignoring the Chikuzen tribunal completely and insulting its staff, including myself.”
Fujiwara frowned. Disrespect toward higher-ranking appointed officials was clearly a serious charge, more serious than miscarriage of justice, for example. He said, “Well, I expect you provoked him. He is rather set in his ways. I’ll have him apologize.”
“Sorry, sir. I will not work with Okata. He is dismissed. If you do not support me in this matter, I’ll resign.”
Silence. Everyone in the room held his breath.
Fujiwara woke belatedly to the presence of his staff listening with avid ears to a confrontation between two ranking noblemen. He got up. “We’ll settle this in my study.”
Akitada followed him. In the private room, Fujiwara finally had the grace to gesture to a cushion. Akitada remained standing. “Thank you, but I prefer to stand. I shall not change my mind and see no point in a long discussion.”
Fujiwara stared at him. “You’re out of order, Sugawara. I’m your superior.”
“My apologies, my Lord, but I hold my appointment from His Majesty, just as you do. I have responsibilities and duties, just as you do. When these conflict, I must choose what most closely applies to my assignment. I would remind you I am evaluated each year. With Okata running the Hakata police, I cannot carry out my duties as governor. I must also remind you that I have received certain secret instructions which a man like Okata would jeopardize. Under the circumstances, I must stand by my decision.”
Fujiwara deflated with gratifying promptness. “Ah, well. There is the special assignment. Hmm, yes. I see your point, though I cannot imagine … never mind. Very well, have it your way. But the man will be your enemy, and he has friends and supporters. He may give you more trouble dismissed than he would as police chief.”
“I shall deal with him if he should be so foolish.”
Fujiwara pursed his lips. “If there’s trouble, I cannot give you any assistance, you know.”
“I know.”
A silence fell. Akitada thought bitterly that it was always thus with his superiors: they handed out difficult assignments but refused to become involved if problems arose. His wet trousers stuck uncomfortably to his legs and itched, reminding him of the miserable homeward journey.
He cleared his throat. “If I may be excused then?”
Fujiwara nodded. Akitada turned and started for the door when Fujiwara said, “Wait! I’m somewhat troubled by those reports concerning your predecessor. You received my messages?”
Akitada turned back. “Yes, I did. Since Lord Tachibana left two weeks before my arrival, and everybody seems to agree he took ship for home, I did not consider it my duty to search for him.”
“No, of course not. But it’s strange, isn’t it?”
“Yes. He may have encountered pirates, or perhaps his ship ran aground somewhere.”
“Not pirates. We would have heard. And he’s been gone a whole month now. Surely someone would’ve found him if his ship got lost. Besides, there are no reports of missing ships.”
“He may have taken a smaller vessel. And there are many uninhabited islands in the Inland Sea.”
“Yes. All the same.”
“It is strange, sir. Is there something about Lord Tachibana that causes this concern?”
Fujiwara chewed on his lower lip. “No-o,” he said. “Not exactly. Well, there was gossip. I wondered if he was the reason they sent you.”
“I was sent to replace him before his term had expired. It suggests something caused his recall.”
Fujiwara peered at him and nodded. “Yes, exactly. What was it? Come on, surely you can tell me.” His tone was almost pleading.
“I wasn’t told myself, sir. I had hoped to learn the reason from you, or in Chikuzen, but as you know, the customary clearing of provincial accounts was handled by your office. What gossip were you referring to?”
“Oh, it concerned his personal wealth and, er, a certain behavior. But making money while serving as a governor is not uncommon, and his accounts were correct. As for amorous liaisons, he isn’t the first nobleman in Kyushu to enjoy a vacation from his family.” He frowned. “Well, keep your eyes and ears open, Sugawara.”
This time Akitada made him a slight bow.
15
When Tora returned to Hakata the day after his master’s visit to Dazaifu, he found Maeda in his office, looking stunned.
“My congratulations, Chief,” he said with a grin.
Maeda focused. “Was this your doing? No, surely not. It takes more than a clever wag from the capital to remove Okata from his chosen post.”
Tora said modestly, “As provincial inspector, it was my duty to report on conditions in Hakata. My master’s the one does the hiring and firing.”
Maeda shook his head. “Well, I thank him for his confidence, but he knows nothing about me. Surely this is not the way things should be done?”
Tora raised an eyebrow. “You disapprove?”
“Well, no. Yes, I do. He cannot have known what he was doing. Besides, this won’t work. Dazaifu makes those appointments.”
“Oh, it has already worked. My master got back from there yesterday. You’re confirmed.”
Maeda gulped. “I don’t believe it.”
Tora folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “I’ve heard better acknowledgments for favors of this magnitude.”
Maeda blushed, then chuckled. “Sorry, Tora. Of course I do appreciate your good words, and I’ll thank the governor in person. But this is pretty unheard of.”
“Oh, you’re on probation. And my master says he’s been warned Okata will try to make trouble.”
“Yes, it’s likely.” Maeda grimaced. “Well, to work then. There’s news about the Mitsui case.”
“Yes?”
“The old man was found hanged in his cell yesterday. He was about to be transferred to Tsushima. Apparently he couldn’t face it. His son had paid him a visit earlier, and all seemed quiet. The guards paid ignored him or slept, as the case may be. I’ll deal with them later.”
Tora thought about it. “It means the case really is closed,” he said.
“Oh yes. It was closed after the judge pronounced his verdict, but now we don’t even have reason to clear a possibly innocent man. The crazy thing is I feel bad about it, confession or not.”
“Well, as has been pointed out: why would an innocent man confess?”
“I wish I knew.”
They sat in silence, contemplating the vagaries of the investigation which had brought them together.
Finally Tora sighed. “What now? Any news of Yoko?”
“No. We posted notices. I have too much to do today to start talking to people again. Her husband was here this morning. The man’s frantic. I tried to tell him she might have gone off with a friend, but he swore she had no friends. Women friends, he said.” Maeda gave a snort. “Not surprising, really. Women don’t care for other women who are on the prowl for their men. I finally told the poor fool what her neighbors had been saying. He got angry and stormed out.”