*
And so Akitada and Tora departed after a night that had allowed them little rest. Akitada’s visit to his ministry to pick up travel funds had been time-consuming as it involved a lengthy and convivial visit with Fujiwara Kaneie, who congratulated him on the trust the Minister of the Right placed in him and proceeded immediately to a discussion of his own problems. A number of questions of a legal nature had cropped up during Akitada’s absence, and besides two pending cases might prove tricky. He desired input from his senior secretary. Their working session was accompanied by many cups of wine, and Akitada did not get home until nearly dawn. He still had to pack, and issue funds to Tamako and instructions to Genba.
The loss of Seimei weighed more heavily than ever on him. The old man had been the heart of the household, making sure all ran smoothly. Eventually, Akitada said farewell to Tamako and peeked in on his little daughter Yasuko, still fast asleep with a doll clutched to her chest.
Except for the fact that he was with Tora instead of Sadenari, the trip resembled the previous one. They went by boat down the Yodo River, the time of day was the same, and the passengers were again pilgrims and men on business. The boat master was different, but he, too, was accompanied by two helpers.
Autumn had progressed in even the short span of time since the last journey. Here and there, brighter splashes of gold and crimson showed among the sober green of the wooded banks of the river. The thought of autumn had made Akitada think of old age and death and had proved sadly premonitory. The loss of Seimei would pain him for a long time to come.
The river carried him toward the unknown. He leaned over the side of the boat and peered into the water. Dark shadows moved below the surface. Already they were close to Eguchi. He found himself watching for the place where they had found the dead girl.
The charming pavilion overhanging the river hove into view first, and he recalled his longing for such a retreat, or for something like the professor’s house, a modest place where he could wander down to the water and feed his ducks.
Oh, to be free of the obligations and fears his work placed upon him!
The finely wrought railings, brilliantly red in the sunlight, were nearly level with their boat when a thought struck him. He called out to the boatman, “Can you take us closer to shore, to that pavilion there?”
The boatman was eager to please a nobleman, and immediately ordered his assistants to pole the boat toward the pavilion. They entered a cove normally hidden from view. The other passengers craned their necks, wondering what the court official found so interesting.
Tora came to sit beside Akitada. “Is that the place?” he asked in a low voice.
Akitada nodded and pointed. “We found her over there, where the river makes the bend. She could have gone into the water from this pavilion. She had not been in the water long, and it’s much more likely than that she should have drifted upstream from Eguchi. I don’t trust that Eguchi warden.”
Tora looked dubious. “She could have fallen or been tossed from a boat.”
“Yes. It was just an idea.” Akitada eyed the pavilion. For all its glowing beauty, the place struck him as somehow menacing now. It seemed just the sort of place where a beautiful girl-child might meet her death.
“It’s a grand place,” said Tora, looking up at elegant rooflines and red lacquered columns. “The emperor himself might live in a place like that.”
It was indeed a palatial. As they had come closer, they could see other buildings raising their blue-tiled gables over the tree tops beyond the pavilion. Akitada called to the boat’s master again, “Do you know what this place is?”
“We just call it the River Mansion, sir,” the man replied. “The pavilion marks the place where we start the turn for the Eguchi landing stage.”
“Who does it belong to?”
“It’s a summer place for some great nobleman from capital. Sometimes they play music up there over the river, and fine gentlemen and ladies in silk of many colors walk around.” He shook his head in wonder. “The good people live every day of their lives in the Western Paradise.”
Yes, the elegant buildings in their beautiful setting looked like those in painted scrolls depicting the Western Paradise. To ordinary people, the lives of the rich and powerful were the most accurate image of ultimate bliss. As they gradually moved downriver and away from the site, Akitada got a vivid impression of music floating out over the water while celestial figures moved about under the trees or leaned over the red railings of the pavilion to watch the river traffic. It was a far cry from the rustic hermitage he had imagined as the perfect haven for his old age. Perhaps the reward for a good life was exactly the sort place one had dreamed of during his lifetime. He wondered what abode Seimei would find waiting for him.
Tora snorted. “‘Good people’? Hardly good. They may live in paradise, but their crimes send them to hell after they die,” he said, shocking the boat’s master and his assistants, but getting some nods and grins from passengers.
Like Tora, Akitada knew well enough that the lives of the powerful were far from perfect or desirable. He was tempted to stop over in Eguchi to find out who owned the River Mansion. He could ask Harima, the former choja. The thought of the two old people brought a smile to his face.
Tora must have read his thoughts. “Shall we spend the night and ask a few questions?” he asked eagerly. “We can go on to Naniwa the next morning.”
That was what Akitada had done last time, and it had led to nothing but trouble. Besides, while Tora doted on his pretty wife Hanae and had turned into a good family man since his marriage, his past had been spent among the women who earned their living on their backs. Tora might be tempted to take advantage of his temporary freedom from domesticity to return to his old ways. He said, “No, Tora. Have you forgotten Seimei’s death? As long as the villain who sent his men to my home is alive and free, your family and mine are in danger.”
Tora’s face fell. He nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have been so stupid.”
They fell silent. Akitada wondered if Kobe could guard his family adequately if more armed men showed up at his house.
Tora said, “That postmaster’s story about the old princess and her young men sort of fits, don’t you think?”
“What?”
“What the boat master said about parties at the River Mansion. What if that’s where the princess lives?”
“I doubt it very much. It’s just a salacious tale told by a lecher.” But it struck Akitada that a nobleman might well use such a remote place to enjoy forbidden pleasures the court would frown upon or a highborn first wife might object to. Those pleasures, in the close proximity of a town that catered to all sorts of sexual perversions could involve the abuse of poor young girls, abuse that would lead them to commit suicide rather than face more of the same. It might even result in murder.
He thought of Otomo and his insistence that Korean girls were being abducted and put to work in Eguchi. There was something very odd about the way Otomo had pursued him with his suspicions. But the professor had never mentioned the word murder.
They stayed on board while the boat docked at Eguchi and watched passengers disembark and new passengers take their place. The short distance to Naniwa was uneventful. The skies were still blue, the broad expanse of the river glistened in the sun, and a fresh breeze brought the tang of the open sea.
In Naniwa, they walked to the government hostel. The fat man sat in his usual place. There was no sign of the little girl. The manager eyed them glumly.
“You had a visitor,” he told Akitada. “Right after you left. Ugliest bastard I ever saw. He left this.” With a smirk, he produced a badly wrapped package that seemed to contain a scroll. “I told him you’d gone and I didn’t know if you’d be back, but he said to keep it and he’d be back to pick it up if you didn’t show. Only he never came back.”