Tora’s face fell a little, but he was not giving up so easily. ‘I think it could be the same woman, all the same. A hundred bars of gold is not so much when you think of their expenses. They invest a fortune in their gowns alone. And then there’s jewelry, cosmetics, scents, and servants. A high-ranking courtesan has a maid to carry her things and a man servant to hold her large umbrella. And if she sings and dances, she’ll have to pay the musicians. And what of her house? Courtesans don’t live in tenements or rent rooms over shops. Besides, she may have taken up the life because of her parents’ debt.’
Akitada raised his brows. ‘You’re extremely well informed about loose women. Perhaps it would be better if you looked into the cost of lumber and found the name of a good carpenter.’
Tora flushed. ‘We were trying to help. Hanae’s promised to ask around for you. She knows people in the quarter. There must be someone who knew this Peony. She’ll find out for us.’
‘Who is this Hanae? As if I couldn’t guess.’
Tora bristled. ‘Hanae is a dancer, a very good one. She’s no courtesan, but her work takes her places where the best courtesans go. That’s why I know a little about that life. As soon as we get home, I’ll talk to her again.’
‘Spare me. You’ve spent most of your waking hours with such women. We just discussed your regrettable habits this very morning. No, I think you’ll be better employed working at home for a while.’
‘Sir, I can’t,’ Tora cried in alarm. ‘I promised.’
Akitada glanced at the sleeping child. ‘Shh! What do you mean?’
‘I’m worried about her. I meant to speak to you…’
Akitada had had enough. ‘Not another word. You will, for once, make yourself useful. As long as we’re here, you can talk to the neighbors of the dead woman and report back to me tonight. But when we get back to the capital, I absolutely forbid another visit to your paramour until all the chores around the house are done. That should occupy your time for the next month or two.’
Tora stood up, stared at Akitada for a moment, then left.
Akitada thought, he no longer even bothers to bow when he is sulking. Then he lay down beside the boy. Like Yori, this child had a fragile, helpless beauty in his sleep, which made one want to protect and shelter him. Half afraid of the future, he listened to the child’s soft breathing and stared at the ceiling, wondering how to patch up his marriage, his household, and his relationship with Tora.
Eventually, he must have dozed off, because a noise at the door startled him into wakefulness. Someone was whispering. Tora had closed the door, but now it was open by just a crack, and he thought he saw an eye peering in. He was about to get up and confront those outside, when the door flew back and several people poured over the threshold.
‘There!’ cried Mrs Mimura, pointing a triumphant finger at him. Beside her stood the solid figure of the local warden. The innkeeper and Mr Mimura peered over their shoulders, and several others, constables and assorted strangers, pressed in behind them, trying to catch a glimpse of the room. Their expressions ranged from avid interest to disapproval, shock, and anger.
Outrage seized Akitada. He felt the frightened boy creeping into his arms and responded by pulling him close. Someone snickered. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ he demanded.
Warden Takechi looked embarrassed. He glanced down at Mrs Mimura, who looked more repulsive than ever with her swollen nose and mouth. ‘Er, this woman has laid charges against you and your servant, sir.’
Akitada bit his lip. Of course. The miserable creature was vengeful and greedy enough to make trouble. He should have known. If it had not been for his foolish haste, they would be well away from Otsu by now, perhaps even at home in the capital. The child in his arms trembled. Akitada patted his thin back and said, ‘Don’t be afraid. I shall take care of this,’ before putting him back on his blanket and standing up. The child instantly clasped his leg and began to sob.
‘Warden,’ Akitada said, ‘I can explain, but these people are frightening the boy. Make them wait outside and close the door.’
‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ Mimura cried, pushing his wife aside and stepping forward. ‘I’m his father and I want to hear what’s being said. There won’t be any deals this time. We can all see what’s going on here. If the so-called ‘good people’ think they can go to an honest working man’s house, beat up his wife, and steal his son for their foul pleasures, it’s time we stood up for ourselves. No, Warden, this time I’m laying charges against him. I demand that he’s arrested, along with his servant, and put in jail until we can get a hearing before a proper judge.’
There was a murmur of agreement from the people in the back. Even the innkeeper nodded his head.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Mimura,’ Akitada snapped. ‘We took this boy away from your place because he was being abused. Your wife attacked my servant and he defended himself.’ It was not far from the truth. ‘You’re lucky I didn’t lay charges against both of you right away. Since you have conveniently brought the warden with you, I think I will.’
The warden cleared his throat. ‘Well, er, if you’ll come along then, sir?’
‘My servant isn’t back from an errand. As soon as he gets here to look after the child, I’ll walk over to your office.’
The warden shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, sir. As I said, charges have been laid against both you and your servant. And the boy will be returned to his parents.’
‘You must be joking! I will not permit it.’
‘It’s not for you to say, sir.’
Akitada saw that the man was quite serious. He felt an icy knot of fear in his stomach. ‘You cannot turn this child over to the people who tormented him. Look at him.’ Akitada leaned down to tip up the boy’s chin and expose his black eye. Then he stripped back his little jacket and pointed out the new wounds on his neck and back.
Mrs Mimura cried, ‘We never did that. He did it. He’s been hurting our child.’ She burst into tears and started forward. Akitada snatched up the boy and retreated.
‘Sir,’ pleaded the warden.
‘Give me my child,’ clamored the woman.
‘Arrest him!’ shouted Mimura.
By now a crowd had squeezed into the room and formed a threatening circle around Akitada and the child. If the boy had not clung to him so tightly, Akitada might have found the melodramatic scene comical. It certainly was beneath his dignity, but he could not think of a good way out of it. Where the devil was Tora?
‘Sorry, sir. I have to do my duty.’ The warden gestured to his constables and took the boy from Akitada.
Tora reached the capital before sunset. He went directly to his and Hanae’s small house, and tied his tired horse to the fence post. The house was locked and empty.
Trouble was in the back, on a triple rope he had wrapped so many times around a tree that he now sat pinned to it, his tongue hanging out and his eyes nearly popping from his head. He whimpered when he saw Tora and wagged his tail weakly. A broken broomstick lay nearby.
Muttering under his breath, Tora struggled with the knots and finally got the dog loose, but Trouble acted strangely, cowering and hanging his head. When Tora called to him, he finally came, crawling and skirting the broomstick, and licked his boots. Tora saw that his neck was a mass of raw welts from the rope. It reminded Tora unpleasantly of the boy in Otsu. Convinced that Mrs Hamada had used her chance to tie and beat Trouble, Tora fetched the dog some water and then shouted for Hanae’s neighbor.
Mrs Hamada trotted over to the fence.
‘That miserable cur got loose and went after my chickens again,’ she said immediately.
Tora swallowed down his anger and asked, ‘Where’s Hanae?’
‘Hanae waited the best part of the morning for you. Finally, Lord Sadanori sent a sedan chair for her. She said she’d be back as quick as possible.’