*
Kobe’s dismissal upset Akitada a great deal. The superintendent had been facing the threat of replacement for a few years now. Still, the crisis had come over the trial of the blind girl. Akitada considered the fact that Phoenix had claimed to be under the protection of some great lord. It seemed odd, given what he knew of her, but it would explain why Sachi’s trial had been pushed forward after Saburo had started asking questions.
The morning following Kobe’s visit, he talked with Tora and Saburo about the case. They had followed events and knew that Kanemoto had confessed. Phoenix had persisted with her denials at first and suffered severe floggings. In the end, she had admitted killing Nakamura.
“The superintendent handled it perfectly,” Tora commented. “Something should be done about his dismissal when he was right all along. He said the Ministry of Justice was behind it. Can you find out why your former boss would do such a thing?”
Akitada was astonished. “It wasn’t Kaneie,” he said with conviction. “He would have told me. There must be some mistake.”
The outcome was that Akitada wrote Kaneie to ask what he knew about the situation. Kaneie came to see him, bringing with him some documents. It turned out that Sakanoue had ordered the trial to be moved up. And it had been Sakanoue again who had forwarded Judge Hirokane’s complaint about Kobe’s behavior. The cover letter objected in the strongest terms against Superintendent Kobe’s meddling again in affairs properly part of the Ministry of Justice. All of Sakanoue’s letters claimed to have been written on orders of Fujiwara Kaneie.
“I knew he had done some things,” said Kaneie, who was furiously angry. “But I had no idea of this. When I got your letter, I went immediately and demanded to see these documents. As you may imagine, I have protested and demanded the man be prosecuted.”
“I see,” said Akitada, very pleased with this outcome. “Do you think it will get Kobe his position back?”
“I have no idea. They’ve wanted to replace him for a long time. But that they should do it this way, and use my name!” Kaneie was turning purple with anger again.
“Well,” said Akitada. “I’m very glad anyway. And you got rid of Sakanoue. Any idea why he did it?”
“No, but I’ll have it out of him. I’m going back to the ministry to call him to account.” Kaneie waved the documents triumphantly as he left.
33
The Lady of the Crane Pavilion
When Lady Akiko next called on her brother, she looked glum.
“Nothing,” she said. “I’m at the end of my wits. I’ve talked and probed, gossiped and snooped, flattered and teased. I can get nothing more. Masako was a gosechi dancer, was chosen as an imperial handmaiden, and met Masakane. Once she lived in the imperial palace, the handsome rascal pursued her, gained access to her chamber, and the pair confronted her father with their clandestine marriage.”
Akitada nodded. “Yes, that sounds pretty much like what I’d expect from that crowd these days.”
Akiko raised her brows. “Don’t moralize, Akitada. These were young people, and the palace isn’t exactly a family home. Besides, if I recall, your marriage started with just such a clandestine visit.”
Akitada blushed, then laughed. Yes, he had been very much in love with Tamako and had dared everything that night. He had been lucky; she had wanted him as much as he wanted her. The memory brought tears to his eyes. He had not thought of Tamako as much lately.
His sister said, “I’m sorry, Akitada. That was thoughtless of me.”
“You remind me of how happy we were,” he said, smiling. “And you’re quite right. I must not judge Sadako and Masakane. I take it that his offense happened soon after?”
Akiko nodded. “Most of the women I spoke to think Masakane deserved his fate. They seemed to feel that His Majesty had some claim on Sadako, and that Masakane should have been apologetic instead of striking His Majesty.”
“Death is a rather cruel punishment for a man defending his wife’s honor.”
“If he really died.”
“You mean there is some doubt?”
“Strange things happen in those faraway places. They sent Masakane to Mutsu province. He’s supposed to have died from an injury. What if he’s still alive?”
Akitada considered this. “It would explain why Lady Sadako suddenly left the nunnery and hid herself away. She heard that Masakane was alive and she was waiting for him. It also explains her strange happiness. But how are we to prove this? And more importantly, what does this mean for her murder?”
They stared at each other. Akiko said, “This is becoming very interesting. Akitada, you must get better quickly. What a story!”
Akitada thought about it. “I wasn’t finished with her fellow lodgers and should have followed through when I realized that someone had moved the trunk under her body after her death. It was the trunk, standing right there in the middle of the room, that caused the police to declare the death a suicide. What a fool I’ve been! I hope it isn’t too late.”
“The murderer must have done that. He wanted everyone to think she hanged herself.”
“Yes, but he must have been very quick. When the children found her, there was no trunk there. The boy stood right below her and gave her feet a push to see if she could fly. They ran to get the caretaker and he sent for the constables. Hmm! Now I wonder.”
“What?”
“The caretaker didn’t say anything about the trunk.” Akitada frowned. What was his name again? Koshiro. A peculiar fellow. He looked more like a ruffian than a caretaker.”
“You think he killed her?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps. He was strong enough.” Akitada got to his feet, grimacing a little as his back protested. “I must go back. I haven’t asked the right questions. All of them are suspects, with the possible exception of the nun who is too small and frail to pull Lady Sadako’s body up by that rope.”
Lady Akiko got to her feet also. “Shall we go now?”
Akitada shook his head “I cannot walk that far.”
“We’ll go by palanquin,” said his sister with an airy wave. “You’ll do very well, sitting down, and I shall be with you.”
“No, Akiko. You cannot go. It’s not suitable and may be dangerous.” He thought of the disgusting habits of the professor and the odd figure of the artist.
“Nonsense. I’m a married woman. I can go anywhere I please.”
Akitada chuckled. “Not quite. I’ll take Tora and report to you. How’s that?”
“No!” Akiko practically wailed. “You can’t do this to me after all I’ve done. It isn’t fair.”
And since she was right, she got her way. Tora was summoned, the plan explained to him, and a short time later, all three were on their way to the Takashina mansion, Akitada and his sister in separate palanquins, and Tora, who had armed himself, striding along beside them.
As on his last visit, the gates stood open and the mansion lay silent and apparently empty under cloudy skies. The storm had made way for colder weather, and a sharp wind blew leaves across the gravel as Tora helped Akitada and Lady Akiko from their conveyances and told the bearers to wait in the courtyard.
They were again on their own. The main house lay in front of them, but Akitada turned toward the stables and the caretaker’s quarters just beyond. To his satisfaction, he saw smoke coming from the opening in Koshiro’s roof.
Akiko had been looking around with great curiosity. “You’d think,” she said, “the abbot would let a family of some substance live here. He could collect rent or favors that way and the property would be taken care of. It’s eerie, seeing it empty like this.”
“The abbot practices charity, not greed,” Akitada said without much conviction. “The caretaker appears to be home. I bet we’ll get better answers from him this time.”