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!”
With that final shout, the prince turned his back on Akitada.
Akitada sat frozen. How could he have been so stupid? He should have considered the prince’s feelings. He had wasted his time and made things worse. The anger at Kosehira for delaying the prince on that fateful night had probably lain dormant until this moment.
After a long time, he said humbly, “Forgive me, your Highness. I was truly insensitive and should have spared you this. I hope you will believe that my first thoughts were for Lady Masako. I have seen many crimes in my life, and always my thoughts have been for the victims. But I also think about preventing more grief and death among the living by apprehending the murderer.”
He got to his feet. The prince did not turn or give any indication he had heard. Akitada made his deep bow anyway and, picking up the documents, left quietly.
Outside the door waited his clerk. Akitada passed the stack of papers back to him. Had the boy been listening? The doors of the palace were solid enough, but Akitada could not be sure they blocked all sound, and the prince had shouted in his anger. The young face was expressionless, and Akitada turned to go.
In the courtyard, the captain met him. “Ah, back already?” he asked, his eyes bright with curiosity. “I hope you got what you needed.”
“No, I’m afraid not.” Akitada did not have to pretend disappointment. “His Highness refused to discuss the matter.”
The captain scowled. “I thought so. It’s time he learned that he’s no better than the rest of us and has no special rights. Never mind. It won’t be long and he’ll be very glad to cooperate.”
And that perhaps was another thing Akitada would regret. The last thing he wished on that broken man was for his life to be made even more unbearable than it was already.
Tokuzo’s Brothel
During the night following their visit to the Sasaya, Saburo got up very quietly and left the room he shared with Genba.
It was not the first time he had done so. Since he had entered Lord Sugawara’s service, he had sacrificed a few hours’ sleep every night in order to explore the capital and hone his old skills. His duties were not particularly onerous, and he needed little sleep. But he was uncomfortably aware that he lacked Seimei’s gift of making himself indispensable to the family in areas other than bookkeeping and letter writing. His knowledge of medicine, for example, had been sadly neglected at the monastery in favor of spying skills. He was quite fond of children, but since his disfigurement frightened most of them, he had kept his distance. His master’s children were used to him by now, but he had long since become awkward at talking to the young.