“I suppose you’ve been writing a hot poem this morning,” Tora observed with a grin. “Nice custom. Among the rest of us, women prefer something a bit more substantial.”
“Enough!” roared Akitada. “If you cannot control your tongue, you can go home and stay there. I don’t need you.”
A stricken look on Tora’s face caused him to relent.. “Oh, never mind. The Grand Shrine Festival is the day after tomorrow. I promised the children they could come. Under the circumstances, you’d better ride home and tell everybody what has happened. I’ll give you a letter for my sister.” He paused a moment to consider Akiko’s reaction. It was altogether predictable. She would be enchanted and immediately start planning. He sighed. “Hanae will need to prepare for my new wife. Yukiko will have Tamako’s pavilion, and that means Yasuko will need new quarters. Have Saburo take whatever funds he needs and get things ready. I don’t want him to spare money this time. And you may return with the children tomorrow.”
This time, Tora obeyed without further comments.
As for the morning-after poem, Akitada had, in fact, returned to his quarters before dawn and taken up his brush to write: “Did you come to me or I to you? Your gown, like mist dispersed by wind, revealed my heart’s desire. Am I asleep or awake?” It was a poor effort, but he had never been a poet, and while the image of the wind was quite improper, he hoped she would see how great his passion for her was. He had slipped the note under her shuttered door.
Many years ago, he had labored longer over Tamako’s morning-after poem, eventually sending her a pretty verse about wisterias, tied to a wisteria branch from her father’s garden. This was different, frank and passionate. He was no longer the young lover.
His matrimonial duty done, he eventually turned his thoughts to catching a killer. In Otsu, he and Kosehira drafted letters to be sent to Prefect Ishimoda of Echi district and to Masaie, the warden in Okuni. Both were to ask more questions of witnesses near the victims’ homes. A special messenger was sent post-haste and told to return with answers that night.
Then Akitada went to see Takechi and told him of his idea. “I want to go back to the merchant’s house and talk to the child again,” he said. “And after that, we need to see the judge’s servants.”
Takechi’s expression suggested that he was as doubtful as Kosehira had been. But like the governor, he was desperate. “Let’s go,” he said.
The merchant’s shop was open for business. Fumi Tokiari’s son said apologetically, “People need to eat. We had to open up.”
Takechi nodded. “Better this way. For them and for you. Work keeps your mind on the living.”
The merchant nodded.
“We’d like to have a word with your grandson. Is he still here?”
“My grandson? But he’s only five. He knows nothing.”
“Nevertheless,” said Akitada impatiently.
“Yes, they are here. For the funeral.” He led the way to the back of the house which seemed a good deal more crowded today. Akitada spied the boy playing with another child and went to speak to him.
Crouching down to the child’s level, he asked, “Do you remember me?”
The boy stared and nodded.
“And do you remember going to the shrine festival.”
Another silent nod.
“You told me you saw a puppet man. A dolly man I think you called him.”
The child’s eyes brightened. “Yes. I saw him. I wanted the monkey, but mother said I couldn’t have it.”
“Right. Now think, because it’s important. Where was the puppet man?”
“Outside.”
The boy’s mother inserted herself into the conversation. “He means at the fair.”
“No,” said the boy, “he was outside on the street. I saw him. He showed me his dolls in the box. I liked the monkey. He asked if I was going to the fair.”
Akitada rose and looked at Takechi. “He was watching the house,” he said,” waiting for the family to leave.”
The mother gasped and drew the boy closer.
Turning to the rest of the family, Akitada asked, “Did anyone else see the puppet man outside?”
They shook their heads.
“You did not even see him at the fair?”
They looked at each other and shook their heads again. The boy said stubbornly, “He wasn’t at the fair. He was outside.”
Akitada gave the child a shiny silver coin and told his mother, “He’s a bright boy. Keep an eye on him.”
∞
The judge’s servants, Kiyoshi and Tatsuko, were still living in his house. They had no place to go, and the heirs had allowed them to stay to keep an eye on the property. Kiyoshi worked at the harbor and Tatsuko looked after her children and kept the place clean.
She was home when they got there and recognized them. A look of fear crossed her face. “Has anything happened? Is it my husband? Do we have to leave?”
“No, nothing like that,” Takechi reassured her. “Lord Sugawara wants to ask you a few more questions, that’s all.”
She smiled with relief and bowed to Akitada.
“Do you recall,” Akitada asked, “that you told me the judge did not even pay you enough to take your son to see a puppet play?”
She blushed. “I shouldn’t have complained. The judge’s heirs have been very good to us.”
“I’m glad to hear it, but I wondered what made you think of puppets that day.”
“Oh, it was nothing. There was this puppeteer in front of the house, and I was thinking how my son would like to see a puppet show. He was just an ordinary puppet man with a box slung around his neck, the kind that walks around at fairs. They take their puppets out and make them move and talk. It only costs a few coppers to watch, but we didn’t even have that to spare.”
“Ah. You have an excellent memory. Can you describe the puppet man?”
She blushed at the compliment. “Well, as I said, he had this box—“
“No, I mean what he looked like. How old was he, was he tall or short, did he have any distinguishing marks?”
She frowned. “I didn’t look at him very long and he was on the other side of the street. He was a big man. Not young, I think. He had on a colorful cap, but his face looked old. I’m sorry, that’s all. Oh, and he had a limp.”
“Thank you. That was very helpful.” Akitada gave her a piece of silver, and they left.
Outside, Takechi said with a good deal of admiration, “I’m beginning to think you’re right, sir. However did you hit on a puppet man?”
“It took me far too long, Takechi. I went to a shrine fair with the governor’s children and saw a puppeteer there, but my interest was in the sellers of Jizo figures. There have been several mentions of puppets, mostly by children, who have an eye for such things. I suddenly thought of all the vagrants who wander from town to town to perform or sell their skills at fairs. It’s a perfect cover for a convict who has escaped and intends to avenge his family.”
Takechi nodded. “And this is the perfect time for it. Omi is known far and wide for its spring festivals. I bet he’ll be at the Grand Shrine Festival, too. They are already setting up the booths and grandstands at the Hiyoshi Taisha shrine. We’ll be sure to get him then.”
“It would be safer if you could find him sooner. Where do such people stay in Otsu?”
“We have a lot of hostelries for travelers near the harbor. Some cater to hinin like him.”
Hatta would be an outcast now, though he had once belonged to the respectable family of a senior retainer. A terrible change for a man! All of the homeless migrants of the country, entertainers at fairs and private houses, jugglers and dancers, prostitutes and soothsayers, belonged to this non-class of people. They were almost invariably poor and at the mercy of the authorities who arrested them frequently for stealing and loitering, for causing trouble and for prostitution.