‘I am flattered, but Superintendent Kobe is well able to handle this.’
She frowned. ‘Nevertheless, I would like you to act for me.’
‘It is impossible to say where a murder investigation leads. If you think I can avert an arrest of yourself or a member of your family, you give me too much credit.’ He saw that she was offended and pressed on. ‘Besides, it is too early to say what I may find, or if what I find out is going to please you. For example, it may be that your son quarreled with his father -’ that had been Tora’s opinion, but one that had surely been correct – ‘or that you yourself preferred another man to your husband.’
The elderly lady gasped, and Lady Kiyowara dropped her fan and stared at him in shock. ‘W-what?’
‘Your son’s anger was observed by others. He rode down an old woman in the street outside. And as I waited in the anteroom on the day of the murder, I overheard shouting in your husband’s room. As for Your Ladyship: Lord Ono and I met the afternoon of your husband’s murder. Ono was coming from your quarters. I assume he has informed you of my visit. He did not hide his close relationship with you.’
‘Then he lied about me,’ she snapped. ‘And so did the people who accused my son. He was not here at the time of his father’s death. Who told you those things? If they are servants of mine, they will be dismissed.’
He liked her less for that outburst and said, ‘That will hardly stop the rumors. I expect Superintendent Kobe is already aware of them.’
Her shoulders sagged abruptly, and she bowed her head. ‘What shall I do?’ she said softly. ‘Oh, what can I do? I hoped you would help me, but what good are you if you believe those tales?’
That disconcerted him. ‘Neither your relationship with Ono nor your son’s anger necessarily prove guilt,’ he said, ‘but I will not be bought.’
She looked up, startled. ‘Bought? Oh… Oh, I did not… That was not… I beg your pardon.’ She quickly closed the lid on the box as if to remove the offensive sight from his eyes. That almost made him smile. ‘But if you thought that,’ she said more calmly, taking up her fan again, ‘then you must think us guilty, my son and me. Individually or together.’
‘Again, no. But if I am to undertake the work you propose, then it must be on the condition that I shall find out the truth no matter who is hurt by it.’
She quickly pushed the box towards him. ‘Of course. It shall be as you wish. I must trust that you are infallible, sir,’ she said. ‘Now, what do you wish to know?’
He did not touch the box and glanced at her companion. The woman looked frightened.
Lady Kiyowara said quickly, ‘My lady-in-waiting is in my confidence. She knows we have nothing to fear. Ask whatever you wish.’
He wondered if that also meant that the attendant approved of Lady Kiyowara’s relationship with Lord Ono and asked, ‘Lord Ono has expressed his complete devotion to you. Do you know of anything that might have caused him to kill your husband?’
‘As you have spoken to Ono Takamura, you must know that nothing would cause him to commit an act of violence. He is a poet.’
‘Poets express powerful emotions quite frequently,’ Akitada pointed out.
‘In poems, yes. But poetry is an exercise of the mind, not of passion. Do you write poetry?’
‘No, My Lady.’
‘Ah.’
Akitada blushed at that and asked quickly, ‘Did you know that your son quarreled with his father?’
‘No, but it is likely. Katsumi wished to join the guards. His father forbade it because he is only fifteen and our only son. He did not kill his father. You must believe that. I know my son.’
The young lord said nothing and remained hidden behind his mother. Perhaps, thought Akitada, but mother love could be as blind as romantic love. That thought caused him to ask, ‘Were you and your husband happy together?’
She did not blink, but the hand holding the fan tightened. She said tonelessly, ‘Of course.’
That was her second lie, but it was too soon to press her. Akitada asked, ‘Do you know of anyone who might have wished your husband dead?’
She frowned. ‘My husband rose quickly in the government and was a rich man. Surely that makes enemies.’
‘Anyone in particular?’
This time she hesitated. ‘Wives are rarely in a position to know their husbands’ associates.’
In general, this was very true, but perhaps her answer had hinted at something she did not want to mention. He let it go. Earning his fee would not be easy. He suppressed a sigh. ‘Very well, My Lady. I accept your offer with the conditions I made. Can I be given ready access to everyone in this house?’
‘Certainly.’ Nodding to her companion, she made him a slight bow, rose, and left by the door she had entered. The companion hurried after her. They left behind the memory of a swishing of silks and the scent of orange blossoms and sandalwood. The young lord, caught unawares, stared at Akitada with frightened eyes. Then he seemed to remember himself and got to his feet and out of the room quickly.
Akitada took up the heavy little box and tucked it under his arm, where the fullness of his sleeve hid it. He walked homeward, filled with new hope and a pleasant interest in solving the mystery of Kiyowara’s murder.
THE FRAGRANT PEACH
Tora looked forward to reporting the young lord’s furious departure on the afternoon of the murder. It surely meant that the quarrel his master had overheard had been between Lord Kiyowara and his son. In that case, most likely young Kiyowara could have been the killer. A rash-tempered youth was prone to knocking people out, and this one’s temper was proved when he had ridden down the old woman.
And if this information did not solve the case, then at least another suspect could be offered to the police.
All in all, a good day’s work, though it would have to wait. The next morning, the master was busy. Tora changed back into his rags.
Hanae’s face fell. ‘Are you going out again?’
‘The master thinks someone’s setting those fires. You know he needs all the help he can get.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Amida! Someone setting fires?’ She bit her lip and nodded. ‘Go then, but be careful and don’t stay out too late.’
‘Never fear.’ He ogled her. ‘Just be ready for me when I slip into bed.’
That made her giggle.
This time Tora passed through the Western Market, skirting Hoshina’s wine shop, and wandered through the dingy streets beyond. From time to time, he stopped a man or woman to ask for Jirokichi. People either denied knowing of him, their faces closing like slammed doors, or they smiled and nodded but had no idea where Tora might find him. It was frustrating.
Near midday he was in an especially depressing part of the city. Hunger gnawed and his legs were growing tired. He decided to look for a place where he might eat and drink and rest for a while. He found a low dive in the very next street.
The curtain hanging across the doorway bore the name of the establishment: Fragrant Peach. It was so old and tattered that the painted blossoms looked like dirty snow falling from a cloudy sky, and its smell resembled that of dung. Still, from the sounds within, there would at least be wine, and after a drink the place would look much better.
Tora pushed aside the curtain and stepped down into a dirt-floored room with a low, dark ceiling. It was a hot, airless hole. Fumes of smoke, burning oil, sour wine, and sweat hit him like a fist. A few oil lamps, fixed to the walls, accounted for the stink of oil. The smoke came from a central fire pit. At first glance, the place contained several customers, both men and women, all of them poorly dressed and dirty.