They complied.
“You made regular food deliveries for the Kurokis?”
They nodded, eyeing each other.
“Who made a delivery of honey, ginger, bean paste, and candied chestnuts about a week ago?” He consulted his notes. “It would have been the nineteenth day of the month in the evening.”
They looked blank and shook their heads in unison.
The constable cleared his throat. “The purchase was made at the Miyagi shop.”
One youth said quickly, “I was sick that day.”
Tora was leaning against the wall. “It wasn’t much,” he said. “I think she carried it home herself.”
Maeda frowned at the three youths. “We know for a fact that all of you did more than deliver purchases. Were you paid for this other work?”
All three turned beet red and averted their eyes.
“Well?”
The tall youth raised his chin. “Why would she pay for a little sex? Maybe she thanked me for the delivery.” He glanced at the other two. “I didn’t know about them,” he added.
The mood in the office had changed subtly. The three had become rivals and glared at each other.
Maeda asked, “And the same true is true for all of you? You all made deliveries and stayed for sex, invited or uninvited, as the case may be?”
They nodded. The handsome one offered an explanation. “She shops at my place regularly. She said she liked me and I liked her. She’s still pretty young and looks good, and her husband’s old and can’t get it up. She was willing.”
Tora suppressed a snort.
“Did she tell all of you about her husband’s problem?” Maeda asked.
They nodded. The tall one said, “Is she in trouble? Did he find out?”
“I don’t know if he found out. She’s dead. Murdered.”
They gasped and went pale. The handsome youth cried, “Did the fat slug kill her?”
“We don’t know yet who killed her, but I think you three had better tell us what you were doing that night.”
They stared at each other, perhaps weighing the likelihood that one of the others was a killer. Then they burst into explanations.
Maeda listened patiently and asked for details. It turned out they could not have been at Kuroki’s house the night of Yoko’s disappearance. He let them go with a warning. “We’ll check it out. If you lied, it will go hard with you.”
17
A sudden spell of warm weather caused Akitada’s little tree to burst into blossoms. It cheered him until another summons from Dazaifu arrived.
At least it was not raining this time. He rode under a cloudless blue sky. The sun seemed mercilessly hot, and there was no breeze at all. The road had turned to dust, and passing horses and carts raised clouds of fine dirt that clogged his nostrils and covered his clothes. The weather had turned hot, and by the time he had completed the journey, he did not feel much better than last time. His clothes stuck to his body again, and sweat trickled down between his shoulder blades.
Otherwise, the atmosphere in the vice governor general’s office had improved. Akitada was admitted quickly, and Korenori rose and greeted him pleasantly before leading him to his study.
There, however, it became clear that a serious matter had arisen.
“Please be seated,” Korenori said. “We have a problem.”
Akitada sat and waited, expecting nothing good.
“Your predecessor has disappeared.”
“I believe you’ve already notified me of this, sir.”
“Yes, but now I have instructions from the chancellor himself.” He held up a rolled document with impressive seals and scarlet ribbons. “They came by a fast ship and express messenger. He has commanded that we make an immediate search for Lord Tachibana. It seems he never reached the capital.”
Akitada nodded. He had expected this but did not see how it affected him. Or the vice governor general, for that matter. “But why search here?” he asked.
“They think he never left Kyushu.”
“Oh.” Akitada absorbed this startling information. It seemed very unlikely. “What makes them think so? I was told he took ship in Hakata.”
“Ahem. Yes, but there is no evidence he actually did so.”
“Ah.”
It meant nobody had bothered to verify a dubious rumor about Tachibana’s having chosen to go by a separate ship. In fact, it had seemed to Akitada all along that there had been no very good explanation for this last minute change of plans. But his next thought made him sit up. Unless one assumed Tachibana was hiding out somewhere, it meant he had been abducted and possibly murdered.
Most likely in Hakata.
In Akitada’s own province.
And this made it his business.
His curiosity was aroused. Here was a mystery for him to solve, a case of sufficient magnitude, given Tachibana’s rank and status, to challenge his best investigative skills.
“I take it you want me to check into this, sir.” he said.
Korenori gave him an irritated look. “Naturally. What else would I call you for?”
Akitada did not remind him he had last summoned Akitada for meddling in Okata’s investigations. He nodded. “May I ask for your support?”
Korenori’ eyebrows shot up. “Naturally you have that.”
“I need to know about Lord Tachibana’s stay here in Kyushu. And I shall need to see all the documents your office has for his administration.”
Korenori bristled for a moment, then gave in. “Very well. What do you want to know?”
“Perhaps we might start with your impression of his personality.”
The vice governor general thought for a moment. “Well, I didn’t care for him, but he was very efficient. A good administrator. His final reports were perfect, as I told you before. I don’t know much about his private life. He did not bring his family.” Korenori frowned for a moment. “That’s not unusual, by the way. You yourself decided against it. Tachibana was known to be an expert on Chinese art and seems to have collected it quite passionately. I expect he took it all with him?”
Akitada grimaced. “Every last item, unless thieves got what he left.”
“No, I think he took it.” Korenori shook his head. “I think he was a little obsessive. Talked about Chinese culture constantly, and invited me to his place just so he could show off his treasures. This was probably the most striking thing about him. If you ask me, he was a bore, though rumor had it that he visited a local woman. Not unexpected for officials without their families.” He winked at Akitada.
Akitada flushed. “Did he socialize with the local Chinese?”
“I wouldn’t know. If you mean, did he invite them to his house, I doubt it. It’s not at all encouraged, you know. But I expect he knew the merchants dealing in imported art quite well.”
“Was there anything besides the art purchases and the occasional prostitute which might have put him in a financial bind? Was he a gambler, for example?”
“No, not to my knowledge. And as I told you, his accounts were in order.”
“Yes. I would like to see those now, and anything else of sufficient significance to have been recorded.”
Korenori clapped his hands. The door opened and a clerk peered in. “Gather all the paperwork for Chikuzen province and anything else pertaining to Lord Tachibana’s administration,” he said. The clerk withdrew.
“Is this all you require?” Korenori asked.
“Yes. Thank you, sir. If you recall anything else, perhaps you’ll let me know?”
“I will. Good luck, Sugawara. The court expects an answer right away.” The vice governor general rose. “You may use this room to look at the documents. I’ll leave you to it.”
Akitada spent the next four hours sifting through the paperwork he had wished to see when he had first arrived. Apart from sending in a servant with hot tea and some rice cakes, Korenori left him in peace.
He finally closed the last document box and stared into space. He was convinced Tachibana had enriched himself from government funds in multiple ways but no more so than most governors. Court nobles tended to consider a provincial assignment a miserable life away from friends and stimulating activities, but they sought out such assignments precisely because they offered a way of rewarding themselves and their families for the sacrifice. This was clearly understood in government circles, and no reprimand would attach to his predecessor for milking the provincial treasury and the rice taxes dry.