“You have seen the prince?”
“Certainly. His looks are common gossip among women. I saw him years ago when I was peeking out of a carriage at some festival. And I’ve seen him since when calling on his wife.”
Tamako pursed her lips as the pondered this. “But what motive would her killer have had in that case? Punishing her for her infidelity?”
“No. The succession, of course.”
“Akiko, this is becoming more dangerous by the minute. And now Akitada has gone missing. I think we must stop.”
“Nonsense. Akitada will be back soon, and I love a good story. Anyway, I didn’t say anything about my suspicions to Lady Kishi. Instead I asked her help to find out more about Masako. She told me that Masako had an attendant assigned to her in the palace. She is Nagasune Hiroko. A good family but without influence. And the girl is plain. The two were supposedly close. I shall try to pay her a visit next.”
“In the palace? Oh, I don’t know, Akiko. I think perhaps you should wait. I have an awful feeling about all of this.”
“Silly, she’s not in the palace any longer. She’s gone home to her family. She lives with her uncle Kintada. He’s a colleague of my husband’s brother in the Bureau of Palace storehouses. I think that’s how he got her assigned as an attendant. You can imagine the man’s disappointment when his niece ended up serving Masako who’d been rejected by His Majesty. Still palace service is palace service. It pays well, and there’s always a chance that His Majesty may take notice or else some nobleman might take her to wife. It’s a chance to meet people when the rest of the young women are hiding in their homes. I shall certainly try to send both of my girls to court.”
Tamako smiled a little at the skill and expertise with which Akiko analyzed people’s motives. Perhaps Akitada’s father had passed on certain talents not only to his son and heir but also to at least one of his daughters. For better or worse, Akiko embodied traits of both her parents. “You will be careful?”
“Oh, of course. Now here is what I was thinking: if Masako and this Hiroko were really close, Hiroko will know all about the affair. And that’s the sort of thing Akitada’s interested in.” She paused a moment. Then, her eyes shining, she added, “For all you know, I may be able to solve his murder case for him.”
Tamako began to suspect that Akiko’s resentment of her brother was due to envy rather than ill humor. Akiko wanted to be like Akitada.
“Akiko,” she said hesitantly, “I think you’re very proud of your brother, but he is a man. He can go places where no woman is allowed to be. Let him solve the crimes.”
“I can go places where he cannot go,” Akiko cried. “Men are just as limited as women are. In fact, if you made an effort to be more sociable with the right people, you’d be a big help to him.”
So much for kinder feelings toward Akiko. Tamako flushed with embarrassment and hurt. “He hasn’t complained,” she said coolly.
“No, of course not. Men like obedient wives who stay home with their children. I like an obedient husband. But I must be on my way. We are to have guests tonight. Be sure to send someone the moment Akitada returns.”
Tamako did not mention that she had no one to send. She thanked her sister-in-law and saw her to her palanquin.
The Hungry Mountain
Tora clung to the side of the mountain. He had looked carefully at the wall of rocks and loose debris above him without finding the foot- and hand-holds he had used on his precipitate trip down. Everything looked different from this angle. He did not know how to climb up again.
But there was also no way down. Or at least none he could see beyond one more move. This he accomplished with the greatest care. It put him below the outcropping that had hidden his master’s lifeless figure on the ledge below. It brought him a little closer, but now he was cut off from a view of the top and from help.
The voice of the old woman came to him faintly, “Don’t move!” she shouted. “The mountain is hungry. It’s already swallowed two people.”
Tora shouted back, “Get help. I see my master, but he’s unconscious, and I can’t reach him.”
She shouted back, but he could not make out her words. Then all became silent. How and where she might find help, he did not know, seeing that she had been unable to so far.
He clung to the rock and peered down. From this position, he could see blood under his master’s head. It might well be from a fatal injury. He’d seen corpses that had lain in such a pool of blood which had poured from their ears, noses, and mouths as they expired. He bit his lips and tried to think positive thoughts. After what seemed a long time, he risked calling out softly, “Sir? Please don’t move. Help is on the way. Just lie still.”
Nothing happened.
He thought it could not hurt to continue the conversation. It gave him something to do and might have a soothing effect on Akitada if he were even a little bit aware. So he talked about meeting Saburo and their visit to see Genba. He interspersed his narrative with repeated warnings to lie very still, followed by assurances that help was coming.
He did not have much faith in the old woman but, being by nature hopeful, he made his chatter as cheerful as he could under the circumstances.
Circumstances deteriorated. It started to rain. This time of year and in this place, rain meant a drastic drop in temperatures and a chill wind. Tora was soon shivering.
Wet and increasingly desperate, he made up his mind that he must climb back to the top to get help. This undertaking had become much more dangerous in the rain. All the surfaces of the mountain had become slippery.
He told the still figure below him, “I’ll climb back up now for a little while, sir. Will you promise to lie very still while I’m gone?” And as he peered down through the rain, he thought he saw one of Akitada’s fingers twitch. Maybe it had been his imagination or the effect of the rain and the moistness in his eyes, but Tora preferred a happier interpretation. His heart sang for a moment at the thought that his master was not dead after all. He repeated his warning and began the dangerous climb to the top.
It soon became hopeless. His fingers slid off surfaces that felt as if they had been covered with oil. Under his feet, rocks shifted, leaving him breathless with panic. He had managed to get past the overhang, when he heard a shout from above.
“Ho!”
A man’s voice. Tora peered upward, blinking against the rain. An irregular line of round boulders rimmed the top of the rock wall. One of them must surely be a head. He blinked again and decided that there were more heads up there, looking down at him.
“Don’t do that,” shouted the first head. “We have ropes.”
Tora said a quick prayer to the god of the mountain and two more to Buddha.
“Hurry up. I’m getting wet,” he shouted back.
A snort of laughter, and some rude comments about peeing your pants floated back. But then the rope appeared, dangling and whipping about in the wind. Tora caught it and almost slipped again. Being more careful, he tied it around his chest, tested the knot, and began his ascent once more.
He was greeted by a group of wet policemen who were grinning in spite of the weather. More banter ensued and was interrupted by Superintendent Kobe, who strode into the group with a sharp, “Order!” and asked Tora, “Did you find him?”
Tora noted the anxiety in the question and nodded. “He’s just below the outcropping.” He pointed down. “I couldn’t reach him. He wasn’t moving, or maybe just a bit. A couple of fingers. But I couldn’t be sure. There’s blood.”
The lump in his stomach was back, and he swallowed.
Kobe looked over the side and shouted commands about more ropes. Tora watched the constables scramble about, then said, “I’m going back down.”
“No,” snapped Kobe. “This is work for experts. And you’re tired and wet.”