There was no answer, and he walked out.
He was half afraid that Masanaga would lie in wait for him, but the anteroom was empty, and Tora waited at the outer door.
When they were back on the street, Tora said, “What happened? I saw the son go in and almost followed.”
“Not much. I returned Lady Masako’s journal to her father.”
“Weren’t you supposed to give it to her companion?”
“A grieving father has a greater right.”
“Even if he killed her?”
“He didn’t kill her, Tora. I brought him more terrible news.”
“What? I don’t understand anything. I thought you meant to accuse Lord Masaie of murdering his daughter.”
“I did think at one time he was guilty, but there was someone else who had a stronger motive and fit the image of a killer much better.”
Tora kicked at a rock on the street. “I’m a fool. I’ll never learn this business.”
“You’re not a fool.”
They walked in silence, Tora kicking more rocks from time to time. Suddenly he stopped. Akitada turned and saw a curious expression cross his face. “The cook,” Tora said. “She as much as told me.” He hit his forehead with his palm. “She didn’t like him either. She said he was bad.”
Akitada watched him. “Well?”
“The brother?”
Akitada nodded. “Yes. Only three men could have known where she had gone, the prince, her father, and her brother. And whatever his character, the prince isn’t the type to commit such a violent act. We’ll know soon enough. I think Maseie already knew or suspected as much, and this time he will not forgive Masanaga.”
For a moment Tora was silent. Then he said, “The cook did say the boy was always resentful because the father preferred his daughter. But it all feels so unfinished.”
“Sometimes it’s better to stand back and allow events to correct themselves.”
Loose Threads
Saburo met them when they returned. He bowed formally to Akitada and said, “I regret to report, sir, that the man called Bashan did not come to the agreed meeting. I must assume he feared arrest and fled.”
“Thank you, Saburo. It’s as good as a confession. Are you back to stay?”
Saburo contorted his features into a smile. “Yes. And thank you and your lady.”
Akitada liked that he made no apologies and spoke with self-assurance. He returned the smile. “Good. I was wrong to dismiss you without weighing your reasons and shall try to act more fairly in the future.”
Saburo bowed again and headed off to the stable where they could hear hammering. “You aren’t taking his room, I hope?” Akitada asked Tora.
“No, of course not.”
As they watched, Trouble came out of the stable to greet Saburo. Saburo petted the dog and suddenly did a little jump and dance of joy that the dog joined in with a happy yelp.
Tora chuckled, and Akitada heaved a deep sigh of contentment.
After changing into his comfortable robe, Akitada went to report to his wife. He found her with Akiko.
His sister glared at him. “There you are, you traitor. Why didn’t you take me along to see Maseie?”
“Because it was too dangerous.”
She pouted. “Evidently it was safe enough. What happened?”
Akitada reported what he had told Maseie about Masanaga. Tamako looked subdued and shook her head, but Akiko cried, “You gave him Masako’s journal? How could you? You promised Lady Hiroko that you would return it.”
“ You promised. I did no such thing. Her father has precedence. But there was another reason.”
“Nonsense. He treated his daughter abominably.”
“You’re right, and I thought it important to have him ponder his actions. For all his reprehensible behavior, Maseie really loved his daughter. He still loves her. In time he’ll come to understand his own role in her death.”
Akiko snapped, “I doubt it. And what about the detestable Masanaga? You’ll just let him escape?”
“Detestable, yes. But because of the delicacy of the situation, which involves His Majesty, he cannot be arrested and tried. I think his father had already realized what Masanaga did. We must wait and see what action he will take.”
Tamako asked, “Will you inform Prince Atsuhira?”
Akitada sighed. “I suppose I must. I no longer like him very much. He is as much to blame as Masaie and his son.”
Akiko’s eyes flashed. “Men! All of them. Women will always be at their mercy. It will always be this way.”
Lady Kishi had said something very similar. At the time she had astonished Akitada because she was one of the most powerful women in the country. He did not argue against his sister’s point. Not only Lady Masako’s fate, but also Genba’s story had made him very aware of the injustices suffered by women.
Tamako saw his face and said, “Not all men are like that. Neither your husband nor mine nor your sister’s would treat their wives or daughters badly.”
Akiko sniffed. “I for one shall always be on my guard.” She glowered at Akitada.
He said humbly, “I’ll try to be a better brother, Akiko,” and smiled at her.
“Well,” she said mollified, “I hope that means you’ll consult me on future cases.”
Akitada and Tamako laughed.
The following morning, Akitada emerged from the house on his way to the ministry. Another hot bath had eased his remaining aches and pains, and he felt quite well again.
Waiting in the courtyard were Genba and a young woman. They stood side-by-side, smiling shyly and bowed very low. Genba straightened up, but the young woman remained bowing.
“Sir,” said Genba, “I brought Ohiro to pay her respects. She promises to be faithful and work hard.”
Akitada saw she was a sturdy-looking girl and would surely be a big help in his household, but that was not why she was here. He went up to them. “Welcome, Ohiro. Please feel at home here. We think much of your husband and are happy that you’re making him happy. He’s been far too lonely all these years.”
She gave him a huge smile and bowed again. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Genba is very good to me.”
Genba blushed. “It’s the other way around, sir.”
“Have you introduced Ohiro to my wife?”
“Not yet, sir. Should I?”
So there was still some shame. Well, they couldn’t have that. “Come along,” Akitada said briskly and headed for Tamako’s pavilion.
There the introductions went very well indeed, especially when Ohiro showed immediate affection for the children.
Akitada departed for the ministry, feeling content in his world and satisfied with the way he had handled his domestic affairs.
His good mood did not last. He still had to speak to Prince Atsuhira, and that was something he did not look forward to. He left the ministry early and walked to the prince’s palace. There he demanded to see the prince with important news.
The servant returned, saying the master was seeing no one.
Anger seized Akitada. How dare Atsuhira deny him after all he had done for him in the past and more recently. He said “Thank you,” in an icy tone, then walked past the servant and into the house. He knew the way to the prince’s room and strode ahead, followed by the protesting servant. Throwing open the door to the prince’s study, Akitada walked in and slammed it behind him.
“Your man brought your message but I chose to ignore it,” he snapped. “We have some matters to discuss, and when I’m done I hope sincerely I’ll never have to trouble with you again.”
Atsuhira, who looked pale and disheveled, stared up at him from a seat near a brazier. He was leaning on an armrest and had been reading. “I have nothing to say to you,” he said.
“I have some things to say to you, so be quiet and listen.”
Atsuhira opened and closed his mouth as if he were snapping for air but came up with nothing.
“The murder of Lady Masako is solved. Her brother Masanaga found out she was leaving the palace to join you. No doubt, he realized this would mean the end to his own career, particularly since he had already made a bad name for himself. He went to speak to her at the palace, where they quarreled. Lady Masako noted this in her journal. It was her last entry. I think it was then Masanaga decided to kill you. He followed her to your villa, where they quarreled again and he struck her with one of your bo. He probably waited for you to arrive, but you were very late, and she may have regained consciousness. In any case, he panicked. He carried her to the promontory and pushed her over, hoping that her death would be taken for a suicide. Then he left.”