From the back came the sound of voices, the clacking dice, and clinking of coins. Gambling was illegal, and the policemen smiled with anticipation. Grasping their clubs and metal prongs more firmly, they advanced silently.
Suddenly there was sharp whistling sound from the corner where the snoring had stopped abruptly. The policemen cursed and rushed forward. Akitada turned to look at the sleeper. He was sitting up, a grin on his bearded face. He winked at Akitada, who shook his head and hurried after the police.
The constables had gathered in a circle around five middle-aged men who sat on the floor, trying to look innocent. There was no sign of dice or money anywhere. The oldest of them, a stoop-shouldered fellow with a ragged gray beard and long hair tied up in a piece of black cloth blustered, “What’s this? I run a respectable establishment here.”
That raised some appreciative murmurs from his companions and caused one of the constables to kick him in the side.
The lieutenant said, “Up, scum. Bow to your betters.”
The man turned stubborn. He took his time getting to his feet, then searched their faces one by one. “My betters? I don’t see them,” he said defiantly. “You’ve got no right, busting in on a private citizen entertaining his friends.”
The constable retracted his foot again, but Akitada said sharply, “Leave him be!” He stepped closer. They had had no time to hide their gambling pieces properly. If the policemen took it into their heads to search them, they could all be arrested. In that case, they would certainly not part with any information. He said to the bearded man, “I’m sorry for the interruption, but we’re searching for a young friend of mine. He was said to have come here earlier today. I’m very worried, because there is a rumor that someone was murdered behind your hostel. If any of you men have information to give me, speak up and we’ll be off.”
They looked at each other, suddenly dead serious.
The bearded man cleared his throat. “At least someone has some manners,” he said, making Akitada a small bow. “I’m Kunimitsu. I’m in charge here. This relative of yours, was he a young kid, acting important?”
“That sounds like him. His name is Sadenari. He’s a stranger in Naniwa and thinks he can handle himself in any situation.”
Kunimitsu snorted. “Wet behind his ears like a newborn kitten, if you ask me. He didn’t think twice about walking in and asking questions. We get some rough customers here. As to what happened to him, I can’t say, but he was alive and well when he left here. I got busy collecting from the crew of the Black Dragon before they rushed off to their ship. When I remembered him, he’d gone.” He glanced at his companions. “Any of you see him leave?”
They shook their heads in unison. Akitada decided that they were neighbors rather than guests of the hostel. They had the look of small tradesmen and were probably fairly honest. None seemed the type to take violent action, but one man was a tall, skinny fellow with sharp features and shifty eyes.
“The Black Dragon?” Akitada asked.
Saeki said, “A large ship from Kyushu. It arrived two days ago, unloaded its cargo and left again this morning.”
“It has left?” This was worrisome. What if Sadenari had been abducted and was now somewhere on the Inland Sea?
Akitada thanked Kunimitsu, adding, “If you should hear anything, will you let me know? I’m staying in Naniwa. You can reach me at the foreign trade office. There’s a piece of gold in it for you.” Turning to the lieutenant, he said, “Come. We must look elsewhere.”
Lieutenant Saeki cast a longing look around. “We should search the place. He runs a gambling den and is a money lender on the side. I bet we’d find dice and money.”
This set his constables to grumbling. No doubt they had hoped to pocket the haul.
Akitada said firmly, “We have no time for that now. You can make your raid another time.”
He was still afraid that a search might turn up the bodies of his attackers. The Hostel of the Flying Cranes was a likely shelter for thieves and robbers. He wanted to explore it a little more without the heavy-handed police along and told Saeki, “Have your men question the people who live on this street if anyone saw Sadenari leave, if he was alone, and which way he was going.”
Lieutenant Saeki rounded up his constables. No one had tried to leave the hostel by the back way. He gave his instructions and took them on their house-to-house visits.
Akitada watched them for a while, then went back into the hostel. As before, the “sleeper” gave his sharp whistle, and as before all the dice had disappeared, and the men sat with Kunimitsu, acting innocent. It would have been amusing, but Sadenari’s fate was beginning to hang on Akitada like some monstrous burden of guilt.
“Sorry for the interruption,” he said. “I didn’t want to ask my questions while the police were here in case they started searching the premises. I didn’t think you would welcome that. Earlier this day I ran into two robbers on the other side of the wall behind the hostel. One was tall and muscular, the other slim. They carried unusually long knives and came from the footpath that passes through your broken wall. I’m afraid they got hurt in the encounter. Have you seen any wounded men pass by here?”
They stared at him and looked at each other, then shook their heads. Kunimitsu said cautiously, “A lot of people take that shortcut. And people get into fights.” He paused. “Was it you who wounded them?”
“Never mind what happened. Do I take it that you know nothing of these two?”
Kunimitsu frowned. “As I said, this is a legal establishment. I don’t allow weapons here. You’ll have to look elsewhere for your robbers.”
It had been a long shot and Kunimitsu’s answer might or might not be true. Akitada was almost certain that the man knew the two thugs, though he might not have knowledge of the attack or had a hand in getting them away. He looked at Kunimitsu’s companions. All but one looked back at him with blank faces. The one who was preoccupied with picking a scab on one of his feet, was the small one with the sharp features of a weasel.
Akitada missed Tora more than ever and decided that he would send for him. Experience had taught him painful lessons about meddling in the affairs of violent men. The last time he had taken matters into his own hands, he had angered a gang in the capital. They had buried him alive.
A shout outside made up his mind for him. With a nod to Kunimitsu, he hurried from the hostel.
Lieutenant Saeki stood in the street, looking around. When he saw Akitada leave the hostel, he came quickly.
“Thank heaven,” he said, adding sternly, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sir. It’s not safe for you to go about alone. Especially not after what happened to you earlier.”
The man was right, but the remark chafed. Akitada hated being thought of as a helpless official. He snapped, “Never mind that. Have you found out anything?”
The lieutenant looked offended, but he nodded. “An old crone in the house at the end of the street claims she saw something.”
Chapter Nine
The old one received them, enthroned on a barrel in front of her tiny home. She was surrounded by a group of women and children, their eyes wide with curiosity. Dressed in a plain brown cotton dress and barefoot, she had thrown a piece of old quilted bedding around her shoulders and from the distance, the colorful fabric looked a little like the costly, embroidered Chinese jackets worn by highborn ladies at court. Her long white hair hung loose and added to the aristocratic impression.