“The business is mine, my Lord.”
“Indeed. But I expect you called on his assistance when the governor turned his anger on you.”
“Oh.” The choja sucked in her breath. She was staring at Mrs. Wada, clearly shocked by a thought that had occurred to her.
“You must tell what you know, Nakagimi,” Akitada said. “Akogi was murdered, and we believe the Wadas are implicated.”
“Murdered?” She glanced at him and back at the older woman. “I will not stay here any longer. This scandal will ruin my future.”
Her reaction was utterly self-serving, and she lost all of her attractiveness for Akitada at that moment. He hated that he had once again been proved correct in his disdain for courtesans and women of the street and rose in disgust.
Mrs. Wada glared at the choja. “It’s all nonsense. And you cannot leave. We have a contract.”
Nakagimi raised her chin. “I’m buying myself out.”
Instantly, the women fell into a heated argument over moneys and rules. Akitada broke in sharply, “Enough! You’re both under arrest until the matter is cleared up.”
They protested. The choja cried, “No. I’ll tell you what happened. I heard it all. I didn’t know what they were up to, but I know she gave Akogi to her husband, and that was the last that anyone has seen of her.”
Mrs. Wada screamed abuse and hurled herself at the choja, and the choja fought back by biting and scratching. Akitada jumped aside in alarm, while Tora strode into the middle of the fracas, seized the women by their flailing arms and pulled them apart.
“Thank you,” said Akitada with a sigh of relief. “Saburo, call the soldiers. They can take the women and the warden to the prefectural jail for interrogation.”
Their departure became noisy and ugly, but Akitada was adamant. He was fed up with them. Let the authorities handle the matter.
The warden arrived just as the women were dragged outside with their hands tied behind their backs. He goggled and demanded, “What’s all this? What are you doing in my ward? Let my wife and the choja go this minute.”
The guard officer grinned down from his horse. “Sorry, Wada. We were just going to inform you in person, but you’ve saved us the trouble. You’re all under arrest.”
*
Content in the knowledge that the Wadas had confessed and were safely jailed and awaiting trial, Akitada paid a final visit to Professor Otomo. The house was silent and no one answered his call. The silence seemed ominous and made him nervous.
He found the old couple, seated side by side in the main room of the house, small, shrunken figures in the stiff hemp gowns of deep mourning. The professor’s wife was weeping silently, her face wet with tears. She clutched her husband’s hand. The professor looked pale but calm. He met Akitada’s eyes with resignation.
“Am I under arrest?” he asked.
“Are you guilty of a crime?”
“Perhaps. I don’t care, but my wife is innocent. It would trouble me to leave her.”
His wife squeezed his hand and smiled tremulously through her tears.
Akitada sighed and seated himself. “What are you doing? Why the mourning? Surely that isn’t customary for a former pupil.”
The old people looked at each other. Then the professor said, “Yoshiyo was our grandson. We loved him more than our lives.”
Akitada gaped at them. “Your grandson?”
“Yes. Our daughter died when he was small. She was the governor’s concubine. That was my fault. I should not have permitted it.”
His wife said, “Nonsense, my dear. She loved him. And you would not have had Yoshiyo.”
Her husband bowed his head.
This came as a surprise, but one that might explain much. “Is that why you lied to me about the Korean girls?”
The old man nodded. “Yes, to my shame. The amulet was my daughter’s, and she had passed to Yoshiyo. I knew he had given it to Akogi. When you mentioned the drowned girl and showed me the amulet, I was desperate to keep him from finding out.”
“And so you tried to convince me that the girl we found committed suicide because she had been abducted from Korea?”
The professor nodded. “Yes, I had to make up a story to account for the amulet. A man’s love for his children and grandchildren, it seems, is stronger than his regard for his honor. Please forgive me.”
They sat in silence. Akitada pondered his own past and thought of Seimei. Seimei, Tora, and Tamako had helped him shed the black despair that had nearly turned to self-destruction. He felt great pity for the two old people.
He sighed and took the amulet from his sash. Placing it before Otomo, he said, “You must have hated leaving this in my hands. I lost a child myself and, in my grief I, too, made mistakes. I cannot restore your grandson to you, but I can at least tell you what happened. Your grandson loved Akogi, and I believe she loved him too much to forget him. In his rage, the governor threatened the owner of the Hananoya, and she and her husband took her young life. They have been arrested and have confessed.”
The professor moaned and dropped his head into his hands. His wife cried out in horror. After a moment, Otomo looked up. “This is horrible, but the governor cannot be responsible for it. He would never order such a thing. You must believe me.”
Akitada had considered this. “They have accused him,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean much. Still, even if he gave no orders, he bears responsibility. His love for his son drove him to separate the two young people. Sometimes, excessive love brings death to the very person we cling to.”
The professor shook his head. “If so, his punishment has been terrible. We have all been punished.”
Mrs. Otomo reached for the amulet and placed it in her husband’s hand. “You and I,” she said, “ we forgot all others when we were thinking only of those we loved. My dear, there must be many things you can still teach the young. Let them be your grandchildren.”
Professor Otomo looked at the amulet. With a sad smile, he said, “What is a man to do with a foolish wife?” Then he put his arm around her and drew her close.
Akitada nodded to both of them. “One should always accept a generous gift.”
Chapter Thirty
The return to a house that no longer contained Seimei was unexpectedly eased by Saburo. He was an odd addition to the Sugawara household, even given Akitada’s dislike of spies and Tora’s fear of demons.
The evening of their departure from Naniwa, Saburo had approached Akitada in his typically offhand manner. “Well, you’re finished here,” he said, his face working quite horribly. “I’ll say goodbye then.” He looked down at himself and stroked his new clothes with his good hand. “You’ll want these back, right?”
Akitada had not come to any decision about Saburo, but he certainly did not want his clothes back. “Of course not.”
“Oh.” Saburo did not look at him. He fingered the fabric of his robe and sighed.
Conscience smote Akitada. There was hardly a creature in this land who had suffered more at the hands of his fellow man than this one. He had even more suffering to look forward to, and neither his new clothes nor his innate intelligence would protect him from being shunned. He said, “If you like, you can come along with us. We can use some help for a while. How long you stay will depend on your behavior. My position doesn’t permit my people to behave scandalously or illegally.” He paused. “The decision is up to you. What do you say?”
Saburo drew himself up. “I’m aware of your position, sir. As for becoming your servant, I’ll try it. I may stay if I like it. Haven’t been to the capital in a while. It’ll make a change.”
And that was that. No word or gesture of gratitude. No bowing or kneeling or fervent promises of loyal service. Saburo turned on his heel and left.
To be fair, on the journey home, he took on the humblest chores without being told, cleaning their boots, looking after the horses at the post stations, carrying saddlebags. He managed to do a great deal of work, even with a nearly useless arm.