“You were very brave!” Akitada complimented him.
Yori nodded. “I was.”
So the warden had saved the boy. Good man! He would have to do something for him. If only Yori had told the warden where Akitada was. He could have been rescued before Noami strung him up in the garden. But that was ungrateful. He looked at the women. “How did you find out what happened?”
Tamako said, “The warden brought Yori home. When we asked about you, he remembered that Yori had said something about his father. We woke up the child and he told us about the painter’s house. After that it was easy. The warden and Genba went to find you. They got there just as Tora carried you out in his arms.”
Akitada corrected her. “I was walking. But I must thank the warden in person for returning Yori. He appears to be a very decent fellow and an excellent influence in a bad section of the capital. Besides, I have some questions about Noami’s activities. By the way, what happened to the man?”
The two women looked at each other. Tamako said diffidently, “Superintendent Kobe called daily to inquire about your condition. He mentioned that the painter hanged himself.”
“What? In prison? They must have been unusually careless.”
Tamako avoided his eyes. “Not in prison. They found him hanged in his garden.”
Akitada stared at her. “In his garden? But we left him alive.”
“Oh. The superintendent thought it strange. He wants to ask you about it.”
How was this possible? Akitada thought back to his last sight of Noami. Tora had fastened Noami’s wrists to the rope from the tree branch and then shoved the basket under him to prop him up. How could Noami have hanged himself? Even if he had gained consciousness and, like Akitada, climbed on the basket, he could not have tied the rope around his neck with that dislocated shoulder. He shook his head in bafflement.
When Kobe came to see him, Akitada had had a bath and been shaved by Seimei. He had spoken with Genba, Tora, and the recovered Harada, had eaten a light meal of fish soup, and was resting comfortably in his study.
The superintendent approached warily, his face anxious. Akitada greeted him affably. “Good afternoon, my friend. I am grateful for your concern during my illness.”
“Oh,” said Kobe, sitting down with a sigh of relief, “you do look much better now. Yesterday I was afraid you would not make it.”
Akitada chuckled and poured two cups of wine. “My wife says that Noami hanged himself?”
Kobe gave Akitada a sharp look. “It is true that we found him hanging by the neck from a rope tied to a tree branch.” He paused, then added, “His hands and feet were tied, and one of his shoulders was dislocated.”
“Then someone killed him. Tora fought with the man and dislocated his shoulder, but we left him alive, tied to the rope by his wrists. It is impossible that he could have hanged himself!”
Kobe said nothing.
Akitada stared at him. In disbelief he asked, “Do you think we hanged him?”
“It does not matter. He deserved it.” Kobe emptied his cup of wine. “I had my men dig up the garden. They uncovered four skeletons. Two were children, one an old man, and one a woman.”
Akitada shook his head. What was it that Noami had said about the children’s visits? “It’s getting rid of them that’s hard.” The disposal of the dead and the barely alive must have taxed even his strength. Akitada looked the superintendent in the eyes. “Kobe, I swear to you, we did not hang Noami. I was in no shape to stand, let alone string up a man, and Tora was with me the whole time. We left the man unconscious but alive. Noami got a more humane treatment than he accorded me.”
Kobe’s eyes went to Akitada’s bandaged wrists. He nodded. “We found the sketches. Tora says you freed yourself.”
“It was either that or die. He doused me with cold water and left me to freeze because he wanted me in sufficient agony for his cursed hell screen. After that… well, by then he knew that I knew.”
Kobe clenched his big fists. “He was a demon! I am glad he is dead. But I wish he had suffered like those poor creatures. Someone cheated us of the pleasure of lawful torture.”
Akitada frowned. “I don’t understand what happened. Perhaps someone took private vengeance before you got there. How long before—” He broke off. It occurred to him suddenly that it must have been the warden who had taken justice into his own hands. It certainly fit his character of running his quarter by his own set of laws.
“Well, we won’t pursue it.” Kobe regarded him worriedly. “You still look tired. I won’t stay long. Noami is dead, and good riddance, but there is another matter which troubles me more. Yasaburo was found poisoned in his cell.”
Akitada sat up. “What?”
“He had had a visitor, an old priest, just before he fell into convulsions. Nobody knew the monk, but he seemed harmless enough and Yasaburo greeted him as an old friend. Since it was a religious visit, the guard left them alone together. Yasaburo was all right when his visitor left, but shortly afterward he started vomiting and screaming with pain. He died before the guard could question him.”
“Well, did anyone look for that priest?”
Kobe bristled. “Of course. What do you take us for? We scoured all the temples around and questioned anyone who was in the street at the time the priest came and went. Nothing. The man disappeared into thin air as soon as he left the prison grounds.”
“Have you asked Harada?”
“Harada was still pretty sick, but he said that he never knew Yasaburo to associate with priests. In fact, he says his employer despised Buddhists.”
“Yet he knew him. Strange.” Akitada caught a momentary glimpse of a pattern, but it was all still too vague to share. He asked, “What about Nagaoka’s brother? How long are you going to hold him? You must know now that someone else is responsible for the deaths in the Nagaoka family.”
Kobe nodded glumly. “I had him released this morning. He will remain in the capital until the case is cleared up.”
Akitada thought of Yoshiko. For the past month, he had struggled with the problem of Yoshiko and Kojiro, or rather with himself. While Kojiro was in jail, Akitada had concentrated on the murder cases and pushed the decision about his sister’s future aside. Now the inevitable moment had come when he would have to weigh centuries of his family’s tradition against Yoshiko’s happiness.
He glanced out into the wintry garden. Had Seimei remembered to feed the fish? How pointless his resentment toward the old man seemed now. Tradition-bound, Seimei had chosen loyalty to Akitada’s father over love for his son. Where lay one’s duty?
Kobe moved restlessly. “I must go,” he said. “When you are better…” He hesitated. Akitada looked at him questioningly. Such diffidence was out of character for Kobe. “When you feel more yourself,” Kobe blurted, “I would be very glad to have your help with the unsolved cases.”
The humble plea marked an extraordinary reversal of their previous roles, and Akitada was profoundly moved. He said quickly, “Of course. I look forward to it,”
Kobe nodded and left.
A quite ridiculous sense of happiness filled Akitada all of a sudden. He was alive. Yori was safe. They were all together again. He looked around the room. It had once been his father’s and a hated room, but now it was his, truly his, and he was pleased with it. Filled with his books and papers, it was the heart of his home and a refuge against the demons lurking outside. The uncertainties of life were offset by such islands of peace among one’s family.