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Takechi greeted him eagerly. “I’d hoped to see you yesterday. Any news?”

“Yes, there is some, but I’d like to share another of those delicious bowls of soup with you, if you can manage it.”

Takechi could manage it. “It’s my turn,” he said cheerfully as they walked to the noodle restaurant.

“Takechi,” Akitada said apologetically, “allow me the privilege since it will be the last time I’ll have the pleasure,”

Takechi stopped. “What? What happened?”

“Nothing that wouldn’t have happened in any case. I’m finished with my assignment and must return.”

“But the murder case—did you solve it?”

“No. But, Takechi, it was never my case. It was yours, and for the deaths in Echi district, the local prefect’s.”

Takechi looked at him as if bereft of words. “Yes,” he said finally. “That’s true enough. Still …” His voice trailed off.

“Come, cheer up. I know you’ll do fine. And I do have one more piece of news.”

They had reached the restaurant where an eager waiter greeted them at the door and guided them to good seats. They placed their orders and then looked at each other.

Takechi said, “I have enjoyed working with you again, sir. This is a real blow.”

Akitada bit his lip. He would also miss the easy friendship that had sprung up between them and felt guilty that his private concerns should affect a man he had a strong liking for. “I, too, regret it very much,” he said. “I’ve come to consider you a friend.” He smiled at Takechi. “But I don’t forget my friends and will make a point of stopping by your office when I can, and I hope you will come to my house whenever you are in the capital. We have one or two decent eating places ourselves, you know.”

Takechi, clearly pleased by the invitation, chuckled. “I have no doubt, sir. It’s our capital after all. Everything’s better there.”

“Not really,” said Akitada soberly, thinking of his lonely life. “But let me tell you what we’ve found in the archives.” He explained how he had begun to focus on the rumors concerning the late Lord Taira Sukenori and the murder that had happened more than twenty years earlier.”

Takechi listened, spell-bound. Their soup arrived and stood steaming before them. After some time, the waiter approached nervously to ask if anything was wrong. He was waved away. Finally Akitada reached the end of his account and lifted his bowl.

Takechi stared at him, lost in thought.

“Eat,” Akitada urged, smacking his lips. “It’s very good. Perhaps the best yet.”

“I’m thinking,” protested Takechi, but he began to eat, sipping and chewing the noodles slowly. Nodding his head from time to time. When he set his bowl down empty, he said, “It fits. It all hangs together. You think the son has come back.”

“If he did not die in exile, I think he would have. He was younger and stronger than his father. Some people live an entire life in a prison colony.”

“The problem is, we aren’t sure, and we don’t know where he is and what he looks like.”

“Precisely.”

A silence fell while they both pondered the issue.. After a while, Takechi asked, “Could it be someone else? Someone who is also part of the Hatta family? I suppose I need to find out who they are. I expect their property was confiscated?”

“Yes. In the immediate family there were only the father, the mother, and two children. The other child was a daughter.” Akitada paused. A thought had just occurred to him. But it seemed far-fetched.

Takechi had watched him. “You had an idea?”

“It’s probably nothing. I’m trying to recall something someone said.” Akitada shook his head. “From the start we’ve had too many people involved in this. It’s difficult to place them properly. But that reminds me that there is someone else of interest. I had a talk with the brother of the victim.”

“Which victim?”

Akitada chuckled. “Quite right. We have too many murders, too many suspects, and too many investigations. I meant the brother of the original victim. His name was Fumi Takahira. He was a wealthy merchant here in Otsu.”

“Oh, you talked to Tokiari. What did he have to say?”

“Something wasn’t quite right about that conversation. Tokiari knows something he’s not talking about. He confirmed that his brother was a guest of Taira Sukemichi when the betto killed him during a hunt. Fumi was shot point-blank with an arrow. An attempt to claim it had been a hunting accident failed, because the local prefect—a good man apparently—saw that he had been shot at close range. After that Hatta confessed, claiming that Fumi had raped his young daughter.”

Takechi said angrily, “If he did, then to my mind, he had a perfect right to shoot the animal!”

Akitada shook his head. “Apparently the prefect didn’t believe the tale, and Hatta was denied extenuating circumstances. Fumi’s brother rejected the charge adamantly. He claims his brother preferred men and would never have raped a woman.”

“Ah! What a tale! Go on.”

Akitada chuckled. “Sorry. That’s all I have. You’ll have to find out the rest.”

Takechi threw up his hands. “Where do I start? If it’s Hatta’s son who did all this, why did he do it? If his father was guilty, I mean.”

“Yes, that’s the biggest puzzle of all. But I recall in the Sung-Chi, a rather strange Chinese book of famous legal cases, there is a tale of a murderer bribing another man to confess to the crime. I seem to recall he promised the man that he would look after his children by having his son marry the man’s daughter, and by giving his daughter to the son with a very generous dowry.”

Takechi pursed his lips and whistled. “So you suspect Taira Sukenori was the real killer. But if there was a deal, the son should have honored it.”

“Not if Sukenori never paid off.”

“Ah!” Takechi’s eyes lit up. “By the gods, that would explain it all. You’ve done it again, sir.”

“I have no proof,” cautioned Akitada, “but it suggests an investigation into possible legal improprieties. Given Judge Nakano’s murder, you can ask some questions about old cases.”

Takechi grinned widely. “I will,” he said. “Oh, I shall enjoy this.” He clapped his hands in glee.

The clapping brought the waiter. Akitada took the opportunity to pay for their meal.

They walked back together, Akitada mostly silent, but Takechi excitedly reviewing all the facts and proposing ways of proving them.

At police headquarters, they stopped. Akitada said with a smile, “You will let me know, won’t you?”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Another Murder

His departure from Otsu, and more especially from Kosehira, was an embarrassing and painful one. Having returned very late the night before, Akitada slept only fitfully and was up at dawn, getting dressed and packing his clothes into saddle bags. Then he sat around, waiting for sunrise. He wished more than anything to go into the garden, perhaps to catch a final glimpse of her.

When he thought the time right, he ventured to Kosehira’s room. His friend was up, looking serious and drawn.

“Well,” Akitada said with false cheerfulness, “I suppose it’s time to bid you goodbye, my friend.”

Kosehira nodded. “You got everything finished then?”

“Yes. Late last night. There is still the matter of the Jizo killer, but I met with Takechi yesterday and told him everything we knew. He’s a very capable man. He’ll solve the case.”

“I shall miss being your assistant in your murder investigation,” Kosehira said wistfully. “Come and sit for a little and share my morning gruel.”