Outside, the festive noise subsided. He listened a moment, then got to his feet and went to the door. Opening it, he peered out and saw that Ohiro’s neighbors had gathered at the street corner.
Ohiro came to join him. “What happened?”
“I have no idea. Should we go take a look?”
They stepped outside just in time to see Shokichi detaching herself from the group to run toward them.
“Police,” she gasped when she was close enough. “They’re coming for you. You’d better run.”
“Police?” Genba stared at her. “Is this still about Tokuzo?”
“Yes. They want both you and Ohiro. Oh, those cursed contracts!”
Ohiro giggled. “All gone,” she cried. “No proof! You’d better go right now and burn yours, Shokichi.”
Genba saw the crowd was breaking apart and red coats appeared. The red coats marched toward them.
Shokichi shook a fist at them. “Too late. Somebody told them where to find you.”
Ohiro looked up at Genba. “Can they arrest us?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, Genba.” Her face crumpled. The bruises showed clearly even in the fading light.
Genba waited with his arm around Ohiro. Shokichi disappeared.
The redcoat in front was the senior policeman, a sergeant to judge by his head dress. He grinned and waved his constables, five of them, armed with cudgels and chains, forward. “You’re the one they call Genba?”
“I am.” The constables surrounded Genba and Ohiro. For a fleeting moment, Genba considered fighting them. Six altogether, but he was much bigger and those little cudgels wouldn’t help them. But he rejected the idea. There was Ohiro to be considered.
“And she’s the prostitute Ohiro?”
“She is my wife Ohiro.”
The sergeant barked a laugh. “Wife? You must be joking.”
The constables sniggered.
“Ohiro is my wife. How can we help you?”
The sergeant grinned at his men. “He’s a cool one, isn’t he?” He mimicked, ‘How can we help you?’”
They laughed.
“And he’s taken the harlot for his wife.”
Genba clenched his fists and started forward, but Ohiro snatched his arm. “No, Genba. Please, no! You’ll make things worse.”
She was right.
“Mind your tongue,” he growled at the sergeant. “What do you want?”
They still sniggered. The sergeant fished a piece of official-looking paper from his sleeve. “You, Genba, and you, Ohiro, are both under arrest for the murder of the businessman Tokuzo and the theft of his gold and his contracts with the women belonging to his house.” He folded it and returned it to his sleeve. “Chain them!” he ordered his men.
Genba pulled Ohiro closer and stepped back. “There’s some mistake. That matter’s been cleared up.”
It did no good. The constables wrapped them in chains in a moment.
Genba did not fight them. He pleaded with the sergeant, “I didn’t kill him. And Ohiro wasn’t anywhere near Tokuzo’s place.”
“Ah! But we just got new evidence!” The sergeant grinned and pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the celebrants, who were watching anxiously from the distance. “Seems like you two stole the contracts and handed them around to the other girls.”
“That’s not true.”
The sergeant ignored this. “Search her place,” he commanded. Two of his men went into Ohiro’s room. Genba thanked the Buddha Ohiro had burned the contract. Of course, the other women probably had not. Who had pointed the finger at them?
Ohiro voiced her own suspicion. “Who told you such lies about us?” she demanded.
“We’ll soon find out if they were lies,” the sergeant told her. “We’ve got ways of dealing with scum like you.”
The constable emerged empty-handed. “Not there.”
“Search them!”
What followed was humiliating and painful. The five constables conducted a body search of Genba and Ohiro that was both thorough and rough. In the case of Ohiro, it was also sadistic. They stripped off most of her clothes and groped her, squeezing and joking about a woman’s secret places. Genba writhed helplessly in his chains, turning his wrists and ankles bloody. Ohiro bore it silently, but she wept.
Then they marched them away, past the crowd of silent watchers. Ohiro still half-naked, and Genba bloody and glowering. As they passed the others, the sergeant said, “We’ll come back for you thieving hussies later.”
Saburo Dismissed
“So Minamoto Masaie was in the capital when his daughter died. Good work, Tora.”
Tora sat across from his master and grinned. “Thanks, sir. It was nothing. His cook makes the best fish soup I’ve ever tasted.” He added with a chuckle, “I’m afraid she had plans for me. I had to tell her I was married and a father. That seemed to discourage her a bit, but I’m not sure she’ll keep her hands off me next time.”
Akitada cast up his eyes. “No doubt you’ll manage,” he said dryly. “I think we may need to consult her again. Her fondness for the young woman makes her likely to be helpful. I wish we could tell her of our suspicions. What did you think of her attitude toward the father?”
“Well, being fond of the daughter, she hasn’t much good to say of the father. She blames him for what’s happened. And she really dislikes the brother. Says both were hateful and talked cruelly about Lady Masako after the scandal. Calling her names.”
“Really? I assume the cook thinks her death was suicide.”
“Yes. Says the father’s to blame. Berating his daughter for failing with the emperor is what caused her to jump off the cliff.”
Akitada grimaced. “She has a very loose tongue for a servant.”
“She loved the girl and is very angry.”
“Didn’t she know about the affair?”
“She knew, but she thinks her lady’s unhappiness made her a prey for the prince. She thinks His Majesty and Lord Masaie both are to blame. They didn’t protect her against overeager young men, it seems.” Tora smirked a little.
“The prince is my age,” Akitada said dryly. “Hardly an eager young man any longer.” Sitting here in his study and looking around at his father’s books and his own, and at the few scroll paintings he had gathered on his many journeys, he felt that most of his life was already over. Yes, he had once been eager. But also foolish, he reminded himself. The prince, it appeared had never grown up.
“Let’s call him a man in the prime of his life then.” Tora grinned at his master.
That got a chuckle and a headshake, but Akitada sobered quickly. “The woman isn’t far wrong, though. Lady Masako became a victim when she left her father’s house and entered the imperial apartments. There’s enough blame to go around. The prince is a notorious womanizer, as I know from a past incident. He probably forced his attentions on her. The father, on the other hand, played politics with his daughter. And His Majesty was openly uninterested in her. He is, of course, still very young and cannot be expected to handle such situations diplomatically. And where was the young woman’s mother? Why wasn’t she more supportive under the circumstances?”
“According to the cook, she’s a timid mouse. Come to think of it, it’s surprising that a man like Lord Masaie, who seems to keep his womenfolk in fear, should have spoiled his daughter with so much love and attention.”
Akitada snorted. “Love?”
“Oh, Cook says he doted on her. Preferred her to his son, taught her to ride and shoot like a man, then offered her to the emperor. I bet when he found out about her and the prince, he snapped like the string on a bow.”
“Well, I wouldn’t call that love, but you’re quite right about the probable reaction. But would he have killed his own child?”
Tora made a face. “Maybe. Yes, I think he might have. Thinking she’s dishonored his name or something. Or maybe he had her killed. Yes. What do you think?”
“I don’t know, Tora. I’d like to meet the man. It seems inconceivable that a father could do such a thing.” He thought of his own little girl and shook his head. He definitely did not want her to go to the palace when she grew up. Never. But then he was not Masaie. “But killing her didn’t really prevent the scandal.” He frowned, then added, “It’s very interesting that he has returned to the capital, bringing only soldiers and a cook.”