“I want the chief of the police and the prefect alerted,” he told the startled Nakahara. “Two hired killers attacked me with knives, and I’m almost certain that Sadenari has been murdered.”
The clerk Yuki goggled at him. Nakahara’s mouth sagged open. When he found speech, he said, “The police. Yes, we must call the police and report this. First thing tomorrow. But the prefect? Surely . . .” He noticed Akitada supporting his arm, and started to his feet. “Are you hurt? There’s blood on your face. Shall we send for a physician?”
Akitada brushed a hand across his forehead and encountered a cut, but he ignored the question. “As soon as there is daylight, I want a complete sweep made of the Kawajiri waterfront and slums. We must find Sadenari and question people about the attack on me. I want every man on and near the ships or working at the harbor interrogated. My clerk must be found. Dead or alive. That will take a large force, Nakahara, and to get this organized, we need the prefect. In fact, you may as well inform the governor also. The provincial guard may be needed if those involved decide to fight. Furthermore, since my real purpose here seems to be no longer a secret, you must immediately begin an official investigation. Someone in Naniwa is working with the pirates.”
Nakahara had paled and slumped back down. The clerks looked alarmed and waited to let the director respond. But Nakahara was bereft of words, and it was Tameaki who rose and bowed to Akitada. There was a gleam of excitement in his sharp eyes. “Please allow me to notify the proper authorities, sir. May I suggest that we send word tonight to the harbor police and to the warden of the quarter where you were attacked?”
Trust Tameaki to be the only useful person here. “Yes, thank you,” said Akitada and glowered at the stupefied Nakahara.
“Where did the attack take place, and what did the criminals look like?” Tameaki asked, reaching for brush and paper.
Akitada sat down abruptly. He was asking too much of Nakahara, and it was already night. He said, “I’m not sure what the area is called. It was a derelict spot. I saw poor tenements, mostly shuttered, a great deal of debris, and one large building behind a tall wall. I was cornered by two rough men in a blind alley just behind this building. It must be about half a mile from the harbor.”
Tameaki frowned. “I don’t know . . . “
Yuki finally woke from his astonishment. “That might me near the Hostel of the Flying Cranes. It’s a bit run down, but it has a tall wall in back. They keep the wall repaired to keep out the riffraff from the other side.”
Akitada cheered up and nodded. Perhaps his “guide” had at least told the truth about the hostel. But he wrestled with another problem. He did not know how badly hurt the two thugs had been. What if the police found two dead men and wanted to know what had happened. It could not be helped. He said, “Tell the police and the warden that the two men were tall and about my age. One was heavy-set and muscular. The other was lean. I did not have time to look for any distinguishing characteristics. Their clothes were ordinary jackets and pants. What a laborer might wear.”
“That’ll be enough.” Tameaki ran out, black robe flying.
“Umm,” said Nakahara, “should we rush into this? Your clerk has not been gone so very long. Calling up so many people . . . well, it will upset things.”
Akitada felt no pity. All authority had been taken out of the man’s hands. His junior clerk had made the decision for him and sprung into action. “Things are already upset,” he said. “In your position, it’s advisable to seem in control.”
Nakahara ran a shaking hand over his face. “Is that why they sent you? Because they think I’m not doing my job? What do they want from me?”
Yuki had been following this, gnawing his lower lip. Now he said loyally, “The director couldn’t have known that Sadenari would get lost and that you, sir, would run into those thugs. The waterfront is full of rough people. Surely that’s all it was. All this talk of pirates! I told Sadenari there have always been pirates. Pirates are normal on the Inland Sea.”
Nakahara nodded eagerly. “That’s right. As long as things don’t reach the point of that Suitomo thing, it’s really just a matter of ship captains being more careful.”
Suitomo had been a Fujiwara governor of one of the western provinces who had decided that he could enrich himself more quickly by becoming a pirate chief. The court had tried to appease him with gifts and honors until it had no choice but to raise an army against him.
Akitada gave Nakahara a look, and he subsided into silence. The lackadaisical attitude he expressed toward the depredations by pirates was either due to stupidity, or the man was in this up to his neck. Akitada’s eyes went to the goods piled nearly to the rafters of Nakahara’s office, and he got angry again.
“What is all this stuff?” he asked, pointing at it.
Nakahara flushed. “It should have been warehoused, but this way it’s more convenient. It saves the clerks and servants running back and forth.”
“That isn’t what I asked you.”
Nakahara sighed. “We do inspections of all ships that pass through Kawajiri and continue inland. Any goods that aren’t listed on their manifests or that seem otherwise suspicious are confiscated and brought here.”
Walking over to the piles, Akitada inspected them. “Some of these look foreign, and if I’m not mistaken, there are valuable art objects among them.”
“I know. Maybe they were stolen, or else people are making private purchases from Chinese and Korean merchants. All I can say is that they were found on ships with otherwise legitimate cargo.”
“Either way, it is illegal.”
Nakahara raised his chin. “Exactly. And we confiscate them for that reason.”
Ignoring the fact that he had finally made his host angry, Akitada held up a carved lacquer vase and blew a thick cloud of dust from it. “It looks as though most of these things have been here for a long time. Should they not have been shipped to their proper owners?”
“I’ll do so gladly if you tell me who their owners are,” Nakahara snapped, looking daggers.
“You haven’t checked them against the lists of stolen items?”
“The lists are not specific. What we find is single pieces. And when we question the captains of the ships about such goods, they always claim they have no idea where they came from.”
Akitada sat down again and thought this over. It was all very careless and improper, but perhaps not criminal. “What did you mean when you said you keep these things here to save the servants steps?” he asked after a moment.
To his surprise, Nakahara did not meet his eyes this time. There was a brief silence, then he said, “Sometimes it becomes necessary to use this or that to pay for a service.” No longer belligerent, he sounded defeated.
Raising his brows, Akitada asked, “How do you mean?”
Nakahara shifted in his seat. “I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but this office has not received any funds for a number of years. My own salary is arrears.”
“I was not aware of it.” It was likely, and it would explain much. “I’m sorry if I’ve sounded harsh,” Akitada added. “Such irregularities happen sometimes, but I wasn’t informed in your case. So you’ve sold some of the confiscated goods in order to cover expenses?”
Nakahara nodded miserably.
They sat in silence, contemplating the dilemma faced by officials who were not given the means to carry out their duties. Akitada had once been in the same position.
Tameaki returned at this point and said, “Begging you pardon, but as I was leaving the building, I ran into Professor Otomo. He wishes to have a word with Lord Sugawara.”
Akitada, embarrassed about his accusations of Nakahara, welcomed the interruption. With an apology, he rose and followed Tameaki to a small anteroom on the east side of the main hall.
He found the white-bearded Otomo pacing nervously, his hands clasped behind his back.