Akitada almost burst into laughter. "Stop shouting," he said. "You checked the building yourself. No one can hear you."
Okura gave him a frantic look and rushed for the door to the veranda. It was closed, and he lost precious time scrabbling at the handle. Akitada caught up with him and put a hand on his shoulder. But he had underestimated his adversary once again. Okura turned, his teeth bared like a cornered rat, and pulled a knife from his sash. He slashed viciously at Akitada's face. Akitada jumped back and retreated a few steps.
Okura was trembling with rage or fear. For a moment it looked as though he would attack. Then he slipped away along the wall. What followed was another frustrating chase. Akitada could not get close enough to disarm Okura, who was small but surprisingly agile and dashed from corner to corner and finally out into the dark hall, with Akitada on his heels.
Okura's dimly seen form disappeared into the shadows. Akitada rushed after, a foolish mistake that almost cost him his life. He could not see Okura against the solid blackness, but Okura could see him, his figure perfectly outlined from behind by the light from his room. One moment he was groping along the wall, the next something hissed past his right ear and hit his shoulder. He flung himself forward, reaching for Okura, but caught only a piece of silk which tore noisily while he overbalanced and fell, hitting the floor with his chin so hard that he momentarily blacked out. When the pain receded enough for him to roll out of the way of his attacker, he wondered why the knife was not in his back. Crouching in the darkness, he listened. Silence. Then a soft rustle moving away from him. He rose and followed as quietly as possible. For many long minutes they both groped around in the darkness, pausing to listen, then moving again, until there was a thud and a cry of pain. Okura had collided with a pillar. He panicked and, much to Akitada's relief, ran back into the lighted room.
When he followed, Okura lost control completely. He was swinging his knife wildly and screamed, "Get away from me or I'll kill you!"
Akitada quickly moved around him to block his escape via the veranda, keeping his eye on the madly slashing blade, wishing he had some weapon to defend himself or that Okura would lose courage again and give Akitada an opening to disarm him. But this time Okura attacked, his eyes murderous. Akitada raised an arm to protect his face and crouched to go for Okura's middle.
At that moment the door behind him opened abruptly, propelling him forward. He fell to his hands and knees, someone or something kicked him, there was a rush of footsteps, the sound of a blow, and then Okura started shrieking.
When Akitada staggered to his feet, he saw Tora. He had Okura by the scruff of the neck and shook him like a kitten until the knife fell from his fingers. Then Tora pushed him so sharply that he collapsed in a heap on the floor. Snatching up the knife and holding the blade under Okura's nose, Tora snarled, "Sit still and shut up! I'd just as soon kill you as put up with your wailing."
The dapper little man choked back a howl, opened his eyes wide, spat out a broken tooth and some blood, and burst into tears.
"What are you doing here?" asked Akitada, looking from Tora to Hitomaro and Genba who had hovered outside but now joined them, looking pleased.
Tora grinned. "Your lady sent us. She was nervous about you. When we saw you had company, we hid under the veranda, just in case."
"Tamako sent you?" asked Akitada in disbelief.
Tora nodded.
Akitada digested this. A new thought struck him. "Did you hear what we said?"
"Yes," Tora said. "Nasty little monster, isn't he?" He gave Okura a kick which produced another bout of wailing. "We figured you could handle him until we heard all the rushing about and screaming."
Akitada flushed. Not only had Tamako thought it necessary to send reinforcements, but they had witnessed how Okura had got the advantage of him. But perhaps their account of the conversation would convince Kobe to lock Okura up. And the harsh treatment meted out to prisoners might encourage Okura to admit his guilt.
It had been a long day and suddenly Akitada was bone-tired.
"Take him to police headquarters," Akitada told Tora. "Tell Kobe what happened, and that I hope he will charge Okura with the murders of Oe and Hirata."
"Right!" grinned Tora, eyeing the sobbing Okura with satisfaction.
"No!" Okura raised both hands to Tora pleadingly. "If you let me go, I'll give you gold, lots of gold, more than you have ever dreamed of." He started fumbling in his sash, but Genba jumped forward and jerked both of his arms behind him where Hitomaro tied them with rope. Okura let himself go limp and burst into tears again.
Hitomaro had a quick whispered conversation with Tora, who asked Akitada, "How about coming along and sharing a pitcher of wine to celebrate after we get rid of him?"
Akitada stretched. He felt stiff with fatigue. They were kind to offer, but he had better things to do. Shaking his head with a smile, he said unwisely, "Thanks, but no. At the moment I am only thinking of bed."
Tora snorted, and Genba and Hitomaro turned their heads to study the sky. As if on command, a bright streak of lightning hung for a moment over the black trees and distant roofs, casting its white light over the whole room. It was followed quickly by a sharp crack of thunder.
Tora shook his head. "It's getting close. I can manage the prisoner by myself. Genba and Hitomaro will walk back with you, sir."
Akitada said quickly, "No. I don't trust Okura. All three of you go with him. And, Tora, remember to give my message to Kobe."
The men exchanged glances. Then Hitomaro said, "Genba and I cannot accompany Tora to the police."
Akitada stared at Hitomaro without comprehension. Outside the first heavy drops were striking the boards of the veranda. Then he understood and snapped, "I see your usefulness is limited to areas which are remote from the sharp eyes of the police. Go with Tora as far as possible and make certain that he and his prisoner get safely within the walls of police headquarters. Then wait for him and return home together."
Hitomaro's face had reddened. "As you wish, sir," he said dully.
"All right, let's go!"Tora urged.
But Hitomaro still hesitated. "Could I not come with you, sir? The streets are not safe at this hour."
"No!" Exhausted and irritated, Akitada made no effort to keep the anger out of his voice. "Do as you are told or you are both dismissed."
They trouped out the door, leaving him behind in the empty room, where the oil lamp still flickered on his desk, casting its uncertain light on student papers. Ashamed about his outburst, Akitada went to finish the paper Okura had interrupted. But he had lost his concentration and Tamako awaited him. Putting away his writing utensils, he used the flame from the oil lamp to light a lantern and set off for home.
The moment he stepped outside and locked the door, he became aware of a change in the atmosphere. The temperature had dropped, and a wet gust of wind tore at the skirts of his robe and knocked the lantern against the wall. Overhead the black clouds roiled as lightning flashed between and behind them. Thunder roared and grumbled almost continuously.
He ran quickly down the steps and into the courtyard. There another blast of wind threw wet sand into his face and blew off his hat. He caught it by the silk cord, winced as it bit into his barely healed skin, untied it and tucked the hat into his sleeve. Steadying his lantern with both hands, he bent forward into the wind.
He passed with long strides through the deserted university grounds, thinking of his bungled efforts at bringing three killers to justice. Although he had solved the cases and laid the ghosts of self-reproach about Hirata to rest, he could not be certain that Okura would be charged. He had even less assurance that Sakanoue would be confronted with his crime and punished. Only Kurata had been apprehended and would be convicted, and that was due more to Tora's efforts than his own.