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When Akitada refused an offer of wine and refreshments, Munata did not persist.

“What about Watamaro and his men,” Akitada demanded.

The prefect looked at him dully. “Alas, the merchant has disappeared. His ship has gone, too. And my men are still interviewing people to see who was involved in the disturbance last night.”

“Disturbance?” Akitada glared. “It was an assassination attempt that cost one man his life and wounded two of us. Watamaro intended to burn us to death. I shall report the matter as an attack on an imperial official.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Akitada took the imperial orders from his sleeve. “As I told you, I have authority to investigate the illegal activities in this province, and more precisely, in your prefecture. Normally, I would present these documents to the governor, but he also seems to have disappeared.” He extended the papers.

Munata touched his head to the floor, then received them with both hands, raising them briefly to his forehead. He unrolled the documents, read quickly, and returned them with another bow. “I’m completely at your service, Excellency. As for the governor . . . I imagine you haven’t heard. He is in seclusion in the capital. He mourns the death of his only son.”

Astonishment and dismay washed over Akitada. “What?”

“You met Yoshiyo at my house. It was a terrible shock and grief to me to hear of his death. I loved that boy. Everyone loved him.” Munata looked away and raised a sleeve to his eyes. “Forgive me. I’m not myself.”

The man did look terrible. Was he to be foiled again from prosecuting charges against the governor, Munata, and perhaps Otomo? The professor, too, had claimed affection for his pupil.

“What happened?”

“Yoshiyo was deeply upset because his father had forbidden him to buy out a courtesan he had met. He made up his mind to defy his father, but the girl killed herself. Alas, when he found out, he decided to follow her on that dark path.” Munata sighed deeply. “Even in the midst of their robust lives, the young are close to death.”

Yes, so it had been with his own small son, Yori. Akitada did not know what to say. A deep sadness seized him, and with it pity for those who had loved the two young people. Then he gave himself a mental shake. There had been no one to love Akogi except that unfortunate boy who had brought her death. It strengthened Akitada’s conviction that she had been murdered, and his heart hardened against the governor.

What to do about Munata and the other culprits was another matter. On one hand, Munata had finally acknowledged imperial authority and was cooperating. On the other, it was likely that he had allowed Watamaro to escape. Of this, however, there was no proof.

“What do you know about Nakahara’s and Otomo’s involvement in the piracy matter?” Akitada asked him.

Munata straightened and made an effort to attend to his own problems. “Nothing, Excellency. I swear by Amida. I realize that the burden of guilt rests most heavily on me because I should have known what was going on in my prefecture. Nakahara is my friend and an honest man, if perhaps not a very efficient administrator. Professor Otomo I don’t know as well, but he’s respected and trusted by the governor. I should think that piracy is not really his area of interest. He’s a scholar.”

“He’s a descendant of Korean immigrants. And the recent piracies involve goods shipped through Korean merchants.”

Munata sighed. “Even so, I don’t know of anything that would link either man to the pirates, Excellency.”

Akitada pondered this. If Nakahara was innocent, the most obvious suspects were his clerks. “You mentioned Nakahara’s carelessness in his duties. He has two clerks. Both were in a position to gain information and pass it to Watamaro.”

“Yes, that could be the answer. Those two!” Munata paused and thought. “Nariyuki comes from the capital. Nakahara brought him along when he first came here. I think he’s a nephew or cousin. Nakahara’s much too lenient with him. I rarely see that young man do anything but have a good time in town. That kind of life costs money and brings him in contact with undesirable elements.”

Akitada raised his brows. “If you suspected him, you should have mentioned it to me from the start.”

“I had no proof. Still don’t. How can I accuse a man of a heinous crime without more than a vague suspicion? Or disapproval of his life style.”

“Hmm. What about Tameaki?”

“He’s the opposite of Nariyuki. Tameaki works hard even though Nakahara doesn’t like him and treats him badly. He belongs to a local family. His father was a clerk, too. They were poor but saved and scraped to send him to good schools. It was I who recommended him to Nakahara.” Munata shook his head. “I may not have done either a favor. Tameaki is very ambitious. Given that and the poor treatment he has received, one has to wonder why he stayed.”

“Yes, precisely.” Akitada’s opinion of Munata rose. The man was a shrewd observer of human nature. Tameaki’s efficiency and his subservient manner had indeed been unnatural. “You say his family used to be poor? What has changed?”

“They have come into some land recently. If you like, I’ll have the police check on both young men.”

“Please.”

A brief silence fell. Then Munata asked, “What about me, Excellency?”

“I must report what has happened. If you are in fact guiltless, I doubt you’ll receive more than an official reprimand for not having reported irregularities.”

Munata breathed a relieved, “Thank you, Excellency.”

Akitada went from the prefecture directly to Nakahara’s office. He wanted to confront the guilty party now rather than wait for the painstaking investigation by the police.

Nakahara was at work. Perhaps his fear of punishment had had a good influence on his work habits. Both clerks attended him, their brushes busy copying documents.

When he saw Akitada, Nakahara paled and stumbled through a greeting. He made an awkward comment on the Watamaro incident, murmuring, “What a shocking thing!”

Akitada cut him off. What have you done with the letters my clerk sent to me?”

“What letters? There have been no letters except for one. You got that.”

“Sadenari sent me regular progress reports.” Akitada let his eyes move over the clerks. “Someone in this office has intercepted them. One of you has been working for Watamaro.”

They stared at him. Nakahara gasped, “What do you mean?”

Nariyuki cried, “Working for Watamaro? Whatever for?” He turned to Tameaki. “Is that why you were forever carrying papers to his place? I didn’t know you were working for him, too. You’re a regular glutton for work.”

A shocked silence fell. Nariyuki was clearly not very bright. Nakahara understood, though. He flushed and looked at Tameaki.

The thin, pale Tameaki had grown several shades paler. “I wasn’t working for Watamaro,” he cried. His voice was shrill. “I was told to take those papers to him.”

Nakahara rose in outrage. “That’s a lie, Tameaki. How dare you accuse me, you repulsive little worm? I never liked you, but you seemed grateful and you worked hard. I see now it was all pretense so you could sell Watamaro information about orders and shipping details.” He shook a finger at the clerk. “It was you all the time! You won’t get away with this. I’ll have you arrested.”

Tameaki jumped up, looked about him like a cornered rat, then made a move toward the door.

“Running won’t do you any good, Tameaki,” Akitada said. “You’ll be found and it will all come out. The police are already investigating you.”

The clerk turned on Nariyuki. “You brainless, good-for-nothing idiot!”

Nariyuki grinned.

With a shout of fury and balled fists, Tameaki rushed him. The taller, stronger Nariyuki rose with surprising speed, caught him, flung him to the floor, and sat on him.

It had all come apart quite easily.

*

Tora knocked on the door of a shabby house in the poorest quarter of Naniwa. He had asked people living near the official hostel for directions. The door opened, and an old crone came at him with a long knife in her hand. Tora backed away.