"Sorry, sir." Tora grinned broadly. "Lady Sugawara's orders. You are to be accompanied by your servant."

Akitada glared at him, but Tora immediately put on an injured look. "Oh, very well," Akitada said grudgingly, slipping into the gray silk robe and belting it. Tora looked pleased and handed him the tall black hat.

Akitada slapped it on, saying impatiently, "Let's go then!"

Outside he strode out so quickly that Tora had trouble keeping up with him. "Wait," he cried, when Akitada passed through the university gate with flying skirts and his chin in the air. "There's no hurry if you're not going to stop at the barber's first."

Akitada came to a halt. Before him lay the green expanse of the Divine Spring Garden in the evening sunlight. On an impulse he crossed the street.

"Where are you going now?" Tora panted behind him.

"I want to take a quick look at the pavilion where the poetry reading is to be staged tomorrow. It will only take a minute."

But the rustic gate was guarded tonight, and the man barred their way. "I'm very sorry, sir, but the park is closed to the public today and tomorrow," he told Akitada.

"I am one of the professors," said Akitada, "and came to have a look at the preparations."

Eyeing the visitor's finery and his servant, the guard bowed and stepped aside. "In that case, since the gentleman is part of tomorrow's event, I am sure it will be all right."

The park was very beautiful at this time. The setting sun slanted through the branches, gilding the new leaves and spilling liquid gold on the gravel paths. Birds sang, the scent of flowers teased the senses, and the path took mysterious turns among fresh ferns and flowering azaleas. The haunting fragrance in the air reminded Akitada of Tamako and his imminent proposal of marriage. When he and Tora turned a bend, he saw that a gigantic wisteria had grown through a willow, mingling its heavy purple blooms with the pale green curtain of the willow's sweeping boughs. Suddenly his spirits lifted. Surely all would be well. They had been friends too long to make things awkward between them.

The next curve brought them within view of the lake and the emperor's summer pavilion. Akitada stopped to admire the scene. It was one of the prettiest sights in the capital. The fragile red-lacquered balconies and the brilliant blue tiled roof rose against the solid green of the park. Gilded dolphin finials and bells at the ends of the curved eaves sparkled in the rays of the setting sun. As they watched, a breeze stirred the tree tops and raised tiny wavelets of shimmering gold on the blue water.

"Amida!" gasped Tora at Akitada's shoulder. "This is what the gardens of the Western Paradise must be like. That lake is really big. Look at those boats. And there's an island with a temple on it, just like in that picture in your mother's room."

"It is pretty," said Akitada, thinking back to his student days when he spent hours fishing on the small island, and attended boating parties with friends on lantern-lit summer evenings. He saw that the preparations for the poetry contest had already begun. The boats were lined up on the shore, ready for tomorrow's guests. The expanse of white sand extending from the steps of the pavilion to the waterline was neatly raked, and on the broad veranda, already plunged into deep shadows, he could make out stacks of dark cushions.

Tora was more interested in the lake. "What are those buildings back there on the far shore?" he asked.

"One is called the eastern fishing pavilion. The other is the waterfall pavilion because next to it an artificial waterfall flows into the lake. There are two more just like them, but you cannot see them from here. On occasion the emperor and his court use all of them for their outings."

"Really?" Tora peered, then plunged into the undergrowth separating them from the lakeshore to get a better look, while Akitada waited, amused, on the path.

Suddenly he heard a cry followed by a colorful string of curses, and then Tora shouted, "Hey! Come here and look at this!"

Akitada entered the shrubbery more cautiously, moving the brambles away from his silk robe. He found Tora bent over the sprawling figure of a young woman in a blue cotton robe. She lay on her side, her arms and legs flung carelessly among the reeds growing from the mud near the water's edge, and she looked very dead.

Akitada stepped carefully around the body on the soggy ground, saw the protruding tongue and purple cast of her skin, and recognized her instantly. She was the girl who had taken lute lessons from Professor Sato, and she had been strangled.

"Some bastard choked her to death," Tora said unnecessarily.

Akitada reached down and touched her cheek. It was soft, still childishly round, but dusted with a light coating of the white powder common among women of the upper classes and prostitutes. The skin felt faintly warm, not yet clammy. When he reached for her arm and moved it, it bent easily. The fingers were limp, skin and nails quite clean except for slight traces of mud where they had rested on the ground.

"Not long ago," he said, straightening up, and scanning the surroundings. The reeds around the body were only trampled where he and Tora had walked. "I wonder what she was doing in the park when it is closed."

"That killer may still be around," said Tora. "Shall I go have a look?"

"Yes, but don't go far."

Frowning, Akitada looked at the girl's body, then bent down to turn her fully on her back. As she rolled, her blue gown parted, revealing a dingy white cotton under-robe. He stood up again and began searching the ground between the body and the foot path, but found nothing. Returning to her, he squatted down again and gently lifted her chin. Deep red and purple streaks marked the white skin of her neck.

"Not a soul in sight," said Tora behind him, pushing through the reeds. He saw the body with its disordered clothes and cursed. "So he raped her first."

"I don't think so," said Akitada. "Her clothes are clean enough and uncreased. If she had been raped, she would surely have struggled."

"But her sash is undone! No respectable female walks around with her gown hanging open like that. If she wasn't raped, she was cooperating. And why would the guy choke her to death if she was willing?"

"A puzzle. Take a look at her neck! When a man strangles someone with his bare hands, he leaves finger marks. I read once that these can be measured and compared to the suspect's hands. But this woman was not strangled by hand; she was choked to death with a piece of fabric, possibly her missing sash. Did you see anything like it on your search?"

Tora shook his head. "A sash? No. You want me to look again?"

"No. The light is getting poor and the place is too large. I must go report the murder to the local warden. You stay here!"

At the gate, Akitada found the guard stretched out across the path, dozing. "Get up," he snapped, bringing the man stuttering to his feet. "There's been a murder committed within the past hour. Who has entered or left the park during that time?"

The man gaped and protested volubly that nobody, apart from Akitada and Tora, had been admitted or departed while he was on duty. "All the gates were closed two hours ago. Only authorized personnel are admitted, and only through this gate, sir," he cried. "You saw yourself that I stopped you and your man."

Akitada raised his eyebrows. "You did not seem to be very alert just now," he pointed out. "Are you certain there were no other visitors?"

"Yes, sir! And I was just sitting down for a minute. You may be sure I keep my eyes open at all times. This time of year the park is full of all sorts of riffraff."

"Then you did not see a young woman in a blue cotton gown going in? Medium height, about eighteen or nineteen, and pretty?"