It had not seemed so at the time. Stung by the suggestion that he might be mentally unstable, Akitada defended himself. ‘I only took pity on a lost child. I would have thought that a good thing. I cannot help it if ignorant and malicious people choose to interpret my motives in a salacious manner.’
The minister flushed and compressed his lips. ‘I’m afraid,’ he said, ‘you’re not helping me. Because I have only a short acquaintance with you, I must rely on what you say in your defense.’
This smacked more and more of the notion that he was on trial here. Akitada tried to control his anger. He also knew little about the minister’s background. He had simply assumed that a high-ranking noble would not involve himself unduly in the work of the ministry and leave matters to him.
And so it had been. Yori’s death had filled Akitada’s thoughts day and night, and he had attempted to banish the memories with work. His new superior had not hindered Akitada’s frenzied activity. Now, for the first time, it occurred to him to wonder about the man. He must be in his late twenties and had probably had the usual university training and private tutors. Unlike many of the court nobles, he looked like an active young man, healthy and without the softness that marked the more self-indulgent members of his family. But that did not tell him how he would deal with the present case.
Akitada felt a moment’s foolish resentment and said coldly, ‘Since I don’t seem to be able to make a convincing defense to you, I must rely on my good name to speak for my character.’
The minister sighed. He reached for a sheaf of documents and passed them across the desk. Akitada bit his lip. They were the annual evaluations of his performance under the previous minister, probably complete and going back to the year when he had started as a very junior clerk. Most accused him of neglecting his duties to meddle in outside affairs in direct disobedience to orders and had haunted him before.
He said bitterly, ‘These mean nothing. Your predecessor took every opportunity to attack me. His Excellency, the chancellor, and other high-ranking officials know of my service. I have received several high commendations and promotions for my work.’
‘But in this case…’ began the minister.
Akitada, very angry by now, rose. ‘I absolutely deny those ridiculous charges. Perhaps you will consult further about my moral character with those who can speak to it. It will be best if I await your decision at home.’ He bowed and walked out.
He stormed home and rushed into the courtyard at such a pace that the dozing Trouble thought it a new game and joined him, bouncing up and down and around him with a noisy welcome. Akitada cursed and pushed the dog away roughly, but Trouble simply increased his efforts and responded by taking small nips of Akitada’s good robe.
‘Tora!’ shouted Akitada.
Tora and Genba appeared simultaneously and flung themselves into the fray.
The dog yipped with joy. A free-for-all! A chase! Three humans against one splendid dog.
Akitada withdrew from the contest and stood glowering on the steps until Tura collared his dog. Then he said, ‘Get rid of him!’ and stalked into the house.
He had been going to see Tamako to tell her of his dilemma, but decided to take off his torn and dirty robe first. Perhaps he would never have need for his formal clothes again. Slipping on his house robe, he tied its sash and went to give his wife the bad news.
Tora intercepted him in the hall. He looked upset. ‘Sir, about the dog-’
‘Not now,’ Akitada snapped and brushed past him.
Tamako and Seimei were bent over the bird scroll. They looked up.
‘Is something wrong?’ Tamako asked. ‘We heard Trouble.’
The dog’s name seemed ominously appropriate. ‘Tora should never have brought that miserable cur here,’ Akitada said angrily. ‘And yes, there is something wrong, though it has nothing to do with the dog. It seems I am under official investigation for the Otsu incident.’
Seimei sucked in his breath, but Tamako merely said coolly, ‘Surely that was always a possibility?’
He glowered and sat down. ‘I rather thought my credit was good enough to speak for my character.’
She sighed. ‘Yes, I know. It’s very disappointing. I don’t blame you for being angry. It’s really too bad that it had to happen just now.’
‘Why?’ he asked, surprised.
She blushed. ‘I just meant… You were so calm and… content earlier. So eager to take up your responsibilities again.’ She bit her lip, and lowered her eyes.
Akitada stared at her. His wife was positively glowing with embarrassment.
Seimei got up. ‘I beg your pardon, sir, My Lady, but I was about to go and check on the poison.’ He hurried from the room.
Akitada frowned after him. ‘What poison?’
‘Monkshood. It’s a very poisonous plant,’ Tamako explained. ‘We wondered what could have made the young man so sick.’
‘Oh.’ Having come back down to earth so painfully in the minister’s office, Akitada had trouble refocusing for a moment. But really, if he was no longer wanted in his official function, nothing prevented him from using his free time as he wished. He took a deep breath. ‘Yes, of course. I suspected warabi dumplings. According to one of his wives, they were a favorite of his.’
‘Fern fiddle heads?’ Tamako shook her head. ‘They can make you sick, but surely not deathly ill. People eat them all the time. You yourself have found them tasty. What we need is something much more deadly. Seimei thought monkshood would fit what the doctor observed.’
Akitada frowned. ‘If he had been given such a well-known poison, surely Inabe would have known.’
‘Perhaps not, if the young man was already ill from something else and being treated. His symptoms from the treatment might have been indistinguishable from the poison.’
Akitada looked at his wife with admiration. ‘How clever you are,’ he said. ‘What is daiou root prescribed for, and what happens after a few doses of the stuff?’
‘Rhubarb root,’ Tamako said with a smile. ‘It cures constipation. You may imagine the effect for yourself.’
‘Ah.’ Akitada brightened more. ‘The warden said young Masuda died from the flux.’
Tamako unrolled the scroll and reread the pasted pages. ‘The doctor should have suspected something. But there is nothing. Unless-’
Akitada moved closer so that he could look at the scroll with her. ‘Unless what?’
‘Unless this note about Yue-Sun’s gruel means something.’
‘Some Chinese medicine?’
‘I don’t think so, and neither does Seimei.’
‘It may just be a scribble. Like the one about love-sickness. Inabe liked to jot down stories. Whatever he saw reminded him of something else. The bird scroll is full of bird tales.’
‘Yes. I noticed that too.’ Tamako gave him a sidelong glance. ‘I suppose there was opportunity for lovesickness in the Masuda household. Two wives and a mistress? And the mistress had been deserted at one point?’
‘True. What about this Yue-Sun?’
‘She’s a character in a Chinese tale. Yue-Sun poisoned someone with a bowl of gruel. I forgot the details, but the victim died.’
‘What? Old Lord Masuda believes that Peony killed his son. Who was the victim in the story?’
‘Some very important person, and she was a servant or his handmaiden.’
‘Hah!’ Akitada jumped up and started to pace. ‘So it was murder. Young Masuda was poisoned. By a woman. But Peony had no motive. He had returned to her, and she and her son depended on him. No, someone else killed him. I think a woman brought a certain food to the patient, and Inabe remembered that later when he became suspicious.’
‘Very likely. Did Masuda’s wives visit him at Peony’s house?’
‘Hardly. But Mrs Ishikawa admitted going there. She could have been sent by them.’ Akitada sat down again. ‘But there’s no proof, and I’m afraid it doesn’t explain what happened later.’