“Oh? He denied everything, I take it.”
“At first, but he could see we knew all of it.” Tora looked distinctly uncomfortable now and shifted from one foot to the other.
“Don’t make me ask a thousand questions. What happened?”
“We’ve arranged to meet him tonight to discuss what is to be done.”
Silence fell.
Akitada decided they had let the killer go because they approved of his actions. Truth to tell, they had not had many options. They could have taken their story to Kobe, who would not have given it any credence. Or they could have come to him. Thank heaven they had not. At least he had not been faced with making that choice.
He sighed. “I see. Well, I don’t suppose he’ll show up for the meeting. He’ll be miles from the capital by now. You’d better inform Kobe at some point.”
Tora gaped. “You aren’t angry?” he asked.
“Not angry, no. But I hope you’re right about Bashan. If he’s a professional killer, he may practice his craft on an innocent person next time.”
Tora hung his head. “We’re pretty sure he was telling the truth. And he knew we had no proof he was the one who killed Tokuzo.”
“Everything considered, not a very satisfactory solution. Kobe won’t like it either.” Akitada shook his head. “But it isn’t all bad. We have Genba back, and some of the women in the Willow Quarter have a better life.”
They smiled at each other.
Akitada was anxious to settle the murder of Lady Masako, but he had a living to earn. He was late getting to the ministry where his pronounced limp and the stiff way in which he held his bruised body served as an excuse.
Kaneie was in and had heard of his mishap.
“There you are,” he cried, eyeing Akitada sharply. “You don’t look too bad. People said you suffered a terrible injury.”
“Good morning, sir. I took a tumble in the mountains two days ago. I suppose the fact they had to bring me back on a litter caused some talk. I’m quite well again, just a little stiff, and my left arm is still sore. Nothing to stop me from dealing with work, though.”
“I’m relieved it wasn’t worse. Nobody knew what to make of it. I just heard this morning, or I would have stopped by.”
“Thank you, sir. You’re very kind.” Akitada smiled at Kaneie. They liked each other, and he thought it very likely that Kaneie would have visited.
“You fell in the mountains? Not by any chance at Prince Atsuhira’s place?”
Akitada flushed. “I’m afraid so.”
“I knew that business would get you in trouble. Well, I hope the effort wasn’t a total disaster.”
“I hope not, sir. Speaking of the matter, do you happen to know if Lord Masaie is in town?”
Kaneie’s eyebrows shot up. “You haven’t had enough yet? Yes, Maseie and his son are in the capital. Is he in trouble? Never mind answering that.”
“I thought he would have left the capital after the scandal with his daughter.”
“He did, but he’s a proud man. His son was dismissed from the emperor’s guard, and Masaie has come back to protest the matter.”
“Surely they could not dismiss Masanaga without cause.”
“With Masanaga there was always plenty of cause. He’s a drunkard and a troublemaker. In the past, his sister’s position protected him.”
“I see. Well, if you have no new instructions for me, I shall get to work.”
The long break enjoyed by officials meant the first day of the week was busy as everyone tried to catch up. Akitada got home well after dark. He had time only to pour himself some wine and step out on his veranda to look up at a starry sky and smell the fragrance of some flowering shrub before Tora joined him.
“You’re late, sir,” he said. “I’ve been waiting. Lord Masaie and his son are both at their residence.”
“Yes. The minister told me the son lost his post in the guard. I thought you’d be meeting with Bashan.”
“Saburo went. Their lordships will be in a foul mood.”
“I don’t feel very good about this myself.”
“It’s a terrible thing if he did it. A terrible thing!”
“Yes.”
They were silent for a span, then Akitada sighed. “Well, we might as well go.”
They walked together through the streets. Tora kept one step behind. It was easy to converse this way, but they both remained quiet.
The Minamoto residence was lit up, and the gates stood partly open. They were admitted and followed a servant into a reception room in the main house. Both of them felt tense. Tora paced, while Akitada weighed once again what he must tell Maseie.
They knew Masaie had a bad temper, but neither of them wore a sword. Weapons were frowned upon when making calls on the nobility.
Masaie came quickly, and Akitada was shocked to see the change in him. The big man seemed to have shrunk in the week since he had last seen him. His shoulders slumped, and his face was an unhealthy gray color.
“What is it now?” he demanded in a tone that was at least reminiscent of past belligerence.
“It is still about your daughter’s death,” Akitada said. “It is time you accepted that she was murdered.”
Masaie stared at him, then gestured at Tora. “I won’t speak to you with your servant present.”
Tora opened his mouth to protest, but Akitada said, “Wait for me outside. It’s all right.”
Tora left reluctantly, and they sat down. Masaie ran a hand over his face. “Why do you trouble me again? What is her death to you?” he asked. “Do you think I care about your friend Kosehira? Or about the swine who seduced my child?”
So Maseie had begun to grieve for his daughter after all. Akitada said more gently, “I think you care about her memory.”
Masaie stiffened. “Her memory? Do you know what they called her? They called her the emperor’s woman! As if she’d been some harlot brought in from the streets or the brothels to amuse the Son of Heaven. My daughter! Masako is descended from emperors. Her bloodline is better than that of the Fujiwara hussy who is to become empress. The insult to my house is not to be borne.”
For a moment, he was the old Masaie, Lord of Sagami, undisputed ruler over his lands and his clan.
Akitada sighed. “I came to speak to the father, not to the clan chief. I was told you loved her.”
Masaie turned his head away. “I loved her like my life. No, more than my life.”
“When I was here last, you said she was dead to you already. Perhaps pushing her off a cliff wouldn’t have mattered much to you.”
Masaie looked up. “You think I would do this?”
“No. I thought so once, but I know better now.”
Masaie paled, but he said nothing.
After a moment, Akitada continued, “She was very lonely at court. Nobody liked her, His Majesty least of all.”
Masaie remained silent.
“She tried to obey you. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t find acceptance, but you turned your back on her in her misery. Her whole family turned against her. Is it any wonder she looked to Prince Atsuhira for support?”
Masaie turned a ravaged face to Akitada. “How dare you? I can have my guards cut you down like a dog.”
Ignoring this, Akitada continued, “Your daughter did not jump. Let me tell you what happened the night Masako died. She arrived at the villa in the afternoon of that winter day, expecting to meet the prince and accept his protection.” Masaie made a sudden move, but Akitada raised a hand. “No, let me finish. Your daughter was with child. Atsuhira’s child. He intended to make her his wife, but he was detained that night, though perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered. Someone else followed her up that mountain road, someone who had quarreled bitterly with her earlier that day. I’m not sure if he intended to kill her or the prince, but it doesn’t matter. Her killer was riding a dark horse with a white blaze on its forehead. The caretaker mistook his horse for the prince’s. I don’t know what happened in the villa, but there must have been another quarrel. I found signs of violence, a few blood stains, some long hairs, and a few blue silk threads from the gown she wore. I think the killer struck her with one of the wooden staffs kept in the room. Perhaps he thought he had killed her and panicked. In any case, he carried her to the promontory, where he pushed her over the edge, hoping people would believe she had committed suicide. That is what happened.”