‘More mischief by young ruffians. It’s becoming a city-wide problem.’
‘My thought, too. I figured the little man would be grateful and help me find the bastards that got my gold, but when I started asking questions, he clammed up and ran.’
‘Hmm. Probably afraid of retaliation.’
‘Maybe, though he’s a spunky little guy.’
‘Did you check on the fire victims?’
Tora’s face fell. ‘Yeah. The son’s not going to live either. He was delirious. About the only thing on his mind was if his father had paid some debt.’ Tora related the dying shopkeeper’s words: ‘But Father paid the money,’ and the neighbor’s comment that the old man had been a miser. ‘It’s almost as if they thought the gods punished them in some special way.’
Akitada frowned. ‘What did the cousin have to say about that?’
‘Nothing. She said he was hallucinating, but maybe he wasn’t.’
‘No, I don’t think he was. I think she’s afraid to talk because there’s a protection scheme going on. Some masterless warrior has sold his skill with the sword to tradesmen who want protection against thieves and robbers. She and the neighbor think the fire was set because they didn’t pay.’
Tora gaped at him. ‘You mean it wasn’t the gods?’
‘Of course not, though it could have been carelessness.’
Tora said eagerly, ‘Let’s go investigate it, sir, and turn the bastards in.’
‘I have my hands full, trying to clear my name. You should report this to Superintendent Kobe.’
Tora’s face fell, but it was not in his nature to be discouraged for long. ‘You’ll solve the Kiyowara murder in no time, sir. I’ll help if you need me – only, I’m not much good at chatting up the important people. I think I’ll look for Jirokichi. He’s a thief, and he knows something he doesn’t want to talk about. Maybe I can find out if there are fire setters. Then you can report it to Superintendent Kobe and the ministry, and they’ll be so pleased that they’ll beg you to come back.’
Akitada had no hope that things would work out so smoothly, but Tora’s optimism always cheered him. His eye fell on the baby. Yuki was pursuing a shiny green beetle to the edge of the veranda and was about to tumble off into the weeds below. He lunged to snatch him back to safety. ‘Let me hold him,’ he said, bouncing the baby on his knee. ‘You can’t be trusted to look after him properly.’
At that moment, there was a loud knocking at the gate, and Tora ran off to see who it was. A moment later, Akitada heard him shouting, ‘Sir? It’s a messenger for you.’
Carrying the baby, Akitada walked back to the courtyard, where he found a member of the palace guard mounted on a splendid, red-tasseled horse. The officer stared at him. ‘Are you Secretary Sugawara?’
‘Yes.’ Akitada became aware of warm moisture spreading between the baby and himself.
The guard pulled a thin rolled-up document from his tunic and handed it down. ‘No answer is expected, sir,’ he said with a sharp nod and turned his horse to trot back out into the street.
Tora closed the gate behind him and came to take his son. ‘Sorry, sir,’ he said when he saw Akitada’s robe. ‘He’s not quite housebroken yet. What is it?’
Akitada had undone the silk ties and unrolled the letter. The thick inky brush strokes swam before his eyes after the first lines. He had to force himself to go back and read the whole document again. It spelled disaster. He rolled it up again and said, ‘It’s not good, I’m afraid. I’ve been dismissed and have to hold myself ready for an investigation by the censors.’
‘The censors? I thought Kiyowara’s murder was a police matter.’
‘Officials in the imperial administration are also subject to review by the Censors’ Bureau. It’s a good rule. They make sure that officials who have committed crimes never serve in any responsible capacity in the government again.’ He did not add that such investigations usually led to exile.
He had to bear the blame for this. When you touch fire, you get burned. Far from being an absent-minded poet, Ono must have gone to report his visit, and the chancellor had acted much more quickly than even Akitada could have expected.
RAT DROPPINGS
Tora woke to the chatter of his son Yuki. The baby normally slept between his parents, but last night Tora had wanted to make love to his wife, and on such occasions they took their son into the small kitchen area and made him a bed in a large basket.
Hanae, who had been busy in the main house for the past week, was still soundly asleep. Being a considerate husband, Tora got up to make some milk gruel for the baby.
The little kitchen was still dark. Tora struck a flint and lit an oil lamp. It was unusual for Yuki to wake up before daylight. When he raised the lamp to check on his son, he saw to his amazement that Yuki seemed to be sitting on a blanket of shining gold coins. The baby squinted against the light, then crowed with laughter at the sparkling new toys.
Tora’s jaw dropped. What the devil was this? So much gold. Was it a miracle? Had the Buddha heard his bitter complaints when he had lost his winnings the other night? But there was much more here than he had lost. Tora picked up a coin and bit it. It was real. Setting down the lamp, he gathered the gold, ignoring Yuki’s wails. He counted twenty pieces. Where had they come from?
He finally picked up the baby – who was making enough noise to wake Hanae – and set him on the floor with one of the coins. Then he started the kitchen fire under the pot of gruel Hanae had prepared the night before. It was only after these chores that he turned his attention to the wet bedding in the basket. A crumpled piece of paper fluttered to the floor.
Tora snatched it up before Yuki could grasp it and flattened it out. There was writing on it – thick, poorly shaped characters – but the message was short and simple. Tora had no trouble deciphering it.
Thank you for your help. Forget about the kids.
There was no signature; instead Jirokichi had drawn a small rat.
Tora was profoundly shocked. It was not only the very large amount of gold that upset him, but also the way it had been left in his house. How had the bastard got in? And when? Had he been spying on them while they were making love? A man was not very observant at such a time. In fact, someone probably could have ripped the roof off the place, and he would not have noticed.
So, instead of gratitude, he felt a hot fury when he looked at the gold. He wanted to shove it down the little bastard’s throat.
Yuki reminded him of the gruel by whimpering. Tora hid the gold in an empty jar on the high shelf, then mixed a small amount of gruel with some cow’s milk and, taking his son on his lap, fed him his morning meal.
He decided not to tell Hanae about their night-time visitor, because it would frighten her. His master, on the other hand, must know about it right away.
As soon as Hanae joined them, yawning widely, then smiling at husband and son, he went to wash at the well, combed his hair and tied it, and put on a clean robe.
‘You look very handsome, husband,’ Hanae crooned when he came back. She came to stand on tiptoe and kiss him.
Tora briefly considered postponing his errand, but better sense won. He released Hanae regretfully and watched her take Yuki for his bath, then he scooped the gold out of the jar and hurried to the main house.
Akitada was in his study, bent over the account ledger, his face looking drawn, as if he had not slept.
‘Here,’ said Tora and deposited the two handfuls of gold coins on Akitada’s desk. ‘I found them this morning. They’re yours.’
His master regarded first the gold, then Tora. ‘Found them? Is this the gold you were robbed of?’
‘No. I suppose I earned it. It’s from Jirokichi.’ He laid the slip of paper next to the gold.
His master read the note and shook his head. ‘I can’t take this. It’s yours,’ he said, pushing the gold towards Tora. ‘Why are you so angry?’