“What? And this from my own brother?” Akiko glowered and even Tamako looked at him with raised brows.
“Well, the subject of such a scandalous affair is hardly something that should be discussed by ladies.”
They both burst out laughing.
Akiko said, “You have very little notion of what women talk about, brother. And that means you’re not qualified to conduct your investigations in women’s pavilions.”
“She is right, Akitada,” Tamako said. “Besides, it isn’t quite proper for you to speak to a lady you are not related to.”
Akitada frowned. “I’ve done so before and will do so again. Lady Kishi received me, and she surely outranks this Hiroko.”
Akiko said, “You were with her cousin. Besides Lady Kishi is a married woman and of such rank that no one questions her behavior.”
Akitada’s head started throbbing again. “No,” he said. “I can’t risk it. Perhaps we can pay the visit together?”
The women looked at each other. Akiko said, “Very well. But I want to know what will be discussed and I want to ask my own questions.” She got up. “Now I must run. Guests, remember?” And with a nod to Akitada and a touch to Tamako’s shoulder, she was gone.
“You have created a monster,” Akitada said accusingly.
“Not I. Your sister is a great deal like you. And now she has found a way to prove herself. You should really give her credit sometimes. She feels you don’t approve of her.”
Akitada had the grace to flush. “Akiko irritates me with her selfish ways and her pursuit of rank and fortune.”
“Yes, though that is a woman’s role once she is married and has children to care about. Her own aspirations no longer exist, and she becomes a mother.”
Akitada thought about this for a moment, then changed the subject. “I could eat something.”
After another dose of Doctor Kumada bitter medicine and a rather large meal-after all, he had not eaten for more than a day-he became so sleepy that he allowed Tamako to spread out his bedding again. There he fell into a deep sleep from which he did not awake until longer after dark.
When he opened his eyes, they fell on Tora, who sat at his desk, frowning over a book by the light of a candle.
“What’s the matter?” Akitada asked. “Don’t you like the story?”
Tora’s smile flashed. “You’re awake! How do you feel?”
Akitada thought about it. “Quite well. Have I slept until night?” He sat up. “How are you? Did you have your evening rice?”
“Yes. That and my midday rice also. Shall I go to the kitchen for something for you? The fires are still on, I think.”
Akitada got to his feet and stretched those limbs that seemed well. He yawned. “Yes, go get us both a snack. Then we’ll discuss progress on the two cases.”
“Yes, sir!” cried Tora enthusiastically and dashed off.
Akitada resumed his place behind his desk. The scroll Tora had been reading was the Tale of Ise, an illustrated poetry collection. He had probably been attracted by the many scenes of a man and a woman meeting in romantic settings. The poet Narihira had been a famous lover. The text was elegantly written, but the brush style was beyond Tora’s skills. Akitada rolled up the scroll and tied the silk ribbons.
Prince Atsuhira had been compared to this same poet. Perhaps he had eventually tried to live up to him. Or had he compared himself to Prince Genji, the fictional son of an emperor who had traded succession for the life of a rake? Akitada did not know the answer, and it struck him that the prince’s character was not the issue. It was far more important to understand Lady Masako. What had caused her to commit such a flagrantly scandalous, foolish, and disloyal act as to take a lover so openly while serving His Majesty?
Akiko had been a great help by finding and contacting Masako’s companion. The two women had lived together in the imperial apartments, and this Lady Hiroko had probably been in her confidence. Even if Masako had not confided in her, a companion would have been in an excellent position to observe her. He grudgingly admitted to himself that Akiko had done very well. And he found that he actually looked forward to accompanying his sister on their visit to the lady.
Tora returned, carrying a heavily laden tray. His face shone with satisfaction. “Cook has for once done right by you,” he announced. “I almost didn’t recognize the evil goblin. She was all smiles, gathering the finest morsels for her injured master.” He set down the tray. It held a large array of bowls and dishes, containing both hot and cold foods. “Some wine to wash it down with?”
Akitada nodded. He was not particularly hungry, but the food smelled good and he had wanted a cup of wine for a long time.
They drank and ate, reaching for whatever struck their fancy. Between bites, they talked, exchanging observations about the prince’s villa, the two caretakers, the doubtful evidence of the bo, the equally unreliable signs of a struggle in the villa.
Then Tora made his report.
He told Akitada about meeting Saburo and visiting Genba.
This pleased Akitada. “Has he changed his mind about leaving?”
“Who? Genba?” Tora glowered. “The big lout is as stubborn as an ox.”
Akitada shook his head. “It’s my fault, I think. He must’ve taken amiss something I said. What about Saburo?”
“Do you want him back?”
“Yes. Especially now. You didn’t mention the note you found.”
“Oh. Sorry. It slipped my mind. It was probably nothing.”
Akitada knew better, but he did not mention the attack.
“Saburo’s found a job and is managing quite well, but I think he misses the children.”
This astonished Akitada. “The children? I would have thought he’d have no interest in children.”
Tora grinned. “I’ve watched him. He’s shy around them, but I know he buys them sweets and toys, and they like him. It’s bribery, of course, but I guess he’s lonely. Now there’s a man who needs a family.”
They both sighed and shook their heads.
“What about Tokuzo’s murder?” Akitada asked.
“I talked to Shokichi, I thought maybe she could be relied on to provide useful information to help her friend.”
Akitada nodded.
“Well, aside from the fact that nobody liked Tokuzo and that all the women hated him because he beat them, there were only two women who actually died. They were both young. Miyagi grew up in the capital. Her family has moved away, no one knows where. Tokuzo gave her something to get rid of a child, and she bled to death.”
Akitada grimaced. “That’s barbaric. What about the warden? Did he investigate the death?”
“In the quarter such things are common. The women often swallow the wrong medicine or do things to themselves because they know they can’t work when they’re with child.
“What happened to the other one?” Akitada asked, shaking his head.
“She was thrown from the balcony to the yard below and died. Shokichi says a drunken and irate customer did it.”
“Not Tokuzo then?”
“No, but the girls blamed him anyway. They said he should never have given Ozuru to a brute like that. She was small, frail, and shy.”
“Was the man arrested?”
“Yes, but he claimed she stole money from him and when he chased after her, she jumped. Shokichi says Ozuru would never steal money, and the customer was known to abuse the women.” I went to see her family. Her father is dead. The mother is very poor. They hold no grudge. In fact, they are grateful to that bastard Tokuzo and sold two more girls.”
Akitada raised his brows. “To him?”
“No, but it proves how they feel.”
“Yes. What a thing to do to your child! You say both girls were young?”
“Fourteen and fifteen.”
Akitada thought of another case, that of the young girl who had been murdered in the brothel town of Eguchi not so long ago. Then, too, he had thought of his own daughter. Yasuko was not the child of poor peasants, but that did not necessarily protect a young woman. Lady Masako was proof of that. He seemed to think frequently about the fate of young women these days. They faced as many dangers as young men who went to war.