When Akitada was finally admitted to his presence, there was little left of the brilliant aura that once surrounded him.
Their meeting was possible only after some planning. Akitada had prepared for it by going back to the ministry where he dispatched one of the junior clerks to the archives for documents relating to the prince’s property holdings. The young man dashed off eagerly and returned somewhat dusty, with a huge stack of bound maps and rolled scrolls.
Akitada selected a reasonable number of these and sent the rest back. The young man then accompanied Akitada, carrying the documents and a small writing box.
They arrived at the Tsuchimikado Palace with a proper air of importance and demanded to speak to the prince. A guard at the gate denied them access. The prince was apparently under house arrest.
“I’m here on official orders from the Ministry of Justice,” snapped Akitada. “Send for your superior this instant.”
After a short wait, a senior officer, wearing the uniform of the outer palace guard, appeared, a captain by his insignia, and a member of a family in power at court. He frowned and drawled, “What is all this? I have not been informed. You’re Sugawara, are you? What business does the Ministry of Justice have with His Highness?”
Akitada made the man a slight bow-received with a mere nod-and said stiffly, “It has been thought proper at this time to confirm the extent of His Highness’s holdings, since they are likely to play a part in the legal proceedings.”
The captain’s face cleared. In fact, he looked positively eager. “Ah! Is that the case? My apologies. They must be moving more quickly than we thought. Still, rules are rules. May I check the documents?”
Akitada waved the clerk forward, and the captain investigated each scroll and volume before nodding.
“Yes. Quite correct,” he said cheerfully. “Well, I have no objection, of course, but I don’t think he’ll see you. He won’t talk to anyone. A bit mad, if you ask me. There have been outbursts. Even his ladies are afraid to go near him.”
“I see. Please tell him that I must see him urgently. Umm, perhaps you should say it is in his best interest.”
The captain smirked at this and showed them to a very elegant reception room. Akitada paced nervously. Much depended on his seeing the prince, and seeing him alone. He became aware of soft sounds-silken rustlings and whispers. Behind the dais a series of screens with painted scenes of mountain landscapes hid an adjoining room. No doubt, eyes were glued to the narrow gaps between the panels. The prince’s household was curious about his purpose here. He could not blame them. Their own lives and fates were tied to those of their husband and master.
To his relief, it was not the captain who returned, but an elderly man in a sober brown silk robe. He introduced himself as the prince’s majordomo and led the way to an inner apartment past several courtyards where cherry trees bloomed. True to their poetic meaning of impermanence, they had scattered their petals like snow across the gravel.
Happiness had indeed been short-lived for Prince Atsuhira.
There were no guards at the door to the prince’s room. This, too, made things easier. Apparently, the prince was allowed a certain amount of privacy out of respect for his person.
“Wait here,” Akitada said to the young clerk, taking the documents but leaving the writing utensils with him. “I’ll call when I need you.”
The majordomo opened the door, announced, “Lord Sugawara,” let Akitada walk in, and then closed the door behind him.
The room was dim. The green reed shades to the outside had been lowered, and the bright sunlight outside left only faint golden patterns on the polished wood floor. The prince sat hunched over a scattering of books and papers. Akitada was shocked to see how much he had changed from the cheerful young man he used to know. They were nearly the same age, but Atsuhira’s sagging figure had nothing in common with the athletic young man who had liked riding, sports, and hunting in the mountains.
Atsuhira’s face was pale and drawn. He raised listless eyes to Akitada.
“I remember you,” he said in a flat voice. “You used to be at Kosehira’s parties.”
“Yes, Highness.” Akitada looked around the room and back at the solid door. They seemed to be alone, and the apartment was self-contained, without those screens and temporary walls that could be erected in large spaces to divide them into many smaller rooms. Still, he lowered his voice when he said, “Kosehira has told me of your difficulties.”
The prince frowned. He looked at the documents under Akitada’s arm. “I’m confused. Are you here because Kosehira sent you, or because my enemies are already dividing up my lands?”
“The former.” Akitada set the documents down and bowed. “I’d like to be of service if you will allow me.” Seeing the prince hesitate, he added, “You may recall that I was once able to intercede in the matter of a stolen letter.”
The prince flushed, then gestured to a cushion, and Akitada sat.
“Very good of you to come,” the prince said, sounding listless again, “but I need no help this time.”
“Surely, Highness, you must defend yourself against the false charges of insurrection and treason.”
“My enemies are posturing. They have no case. They want to frighten me into flight. As it is, they have nothing to fear from me. I shall take the tonsure soon, and if they try to prevent me, I shall make an end of my miserable life. You may tell Kosehira of my decision.” He took up one of his scrolls and began to read, a signal that he considered the conversation over.
Akitada sought for words to reach the prince, who now seemed to be reciting a sutra. Finally, he said the only thing that came to his mind.
“Your Highness, the Lady Masako may have been murdered.”
He regretted his words instantly, because he had no proof. In truth, all he really had was a vague suspicion-and a fervent wish that the young woman had not stepped off the cliff that snowy night four months ago.
The prince dropped the sutra scroll. “What? Are you serious?”
“Yes, there are aspects to the case that look suspicious. I came to ask you about them.”
The prince’s brows contracted. “Kosehira had no right.” He looked angry.
“Kosehira is your friend, as he is mine.”
“Do you have anything to support your extraordinary charge?”
Atsuhira was nothing if not intelligent. That distinguished him from most of the imperial offspring and perhaps accounted for the fact that his enemies had started their ugly campaign against him again. They preferred sovereigns who were easily led and took no interest in government. The current emperor, the prince’s first cousin, was still very young and, from all accounts, totally engrossed in his women and games. It was Atsuhira’s bad luck that he was much admired by the people who wanted him to be reinstated as crown prince.
Akitada said cautiously, “I have spoken with Superintendent Kobe. He described the injuries on the body. They have raised some questions.”
The prince buried his face in his hands. “I found her,” he said hoarsely. “She lay at the bottom of the cliff, covered with snow. There was blood in the snow. Kobe said it proved she was alive and died from the fall.” He raised his head to look at Akitada with bleak eyes. “Is that what you came to hear?”
“No. I knew it already.” Akitada hesitated, seeing the pain-racked face of the prince. “You see, her skull was badly damaged,” he ventured as gently as he could, “but there was little damage to her legs. I would have expected the opposite if she had stepped off the cliff.”
The prince slowly shook his head from side to side. “What does it matter? She’s dead.”
“Someone may have pushed her and caused her to fall head first. If Lady Masako was murdered, don’t you want the guilty person punished?”
“No!” The word was an agonized shout. The prince was very upset. His eyes flashed. “Why do you force your way into my solitude to talk to me of things that churn up my insides and bring back the nightmares that are with me day and night? Are you so unfeeling and lacking in understanding that you cannot see that nothing matters now? She is gone! Nothing will bring her back. How much better to accept that she took the fatal step because she wanted to than to imagine her in the hands of a brutal killer, unable to save herself?” He gave a small sob and clenched his hands. “She was alone! Alone because I was not there to protect her. How do you think that makes me feel? I was passing the time in idle chatter with your friend Kosehira instead. If you came here to help me, I don’t want your help. And if you’re here to help your friend, you’ve come to the wrong man. I have cursed Kosehira for delaying me that night. I don’t care what happens to him… or me… or you. Go! ”