"The empress's brother," Kosehira shouted into Akitada's ear over the applause of the crowd. "Not at all bad, considering he was up most of the night with us, drinking and reciting poems." The rest of his words were drowned out by the rhythmic booming of the great drum which made its appearance next. It travelled on another decorated ox-drawn carriage and was beaten by a muscular giant of a man, stripped to the waist and already glistening with perspiration in the cool morning air.

Akitada was glad there was no need to make conversation. He had fallen into a depression, and Kosehira's reference to the poem-composing nobleman had reminded him of this evening's competition in the Spring Garden, which in turn called to mind the brutal murder of the girl, his assignment at the university and his unease about Hirata.

The drum passed, followed by a group of beautifully gowned and masked dancers who paused briefly before their stand to give a performance. Kosehira leaned towards him again. "I hear you are teaching at the university now," he said. "Your talents are wasted, my friend. Heaven knows there is too much trouble in the world for a man of your ability to pass his time in the schoolroom."

Akitada sighed. "I don't know what trouble you are thinking of, but even at a university there may be the occasional puzzle to solve."

Kosehira raised his eyebrows comically. "A puzzle? You don't mean it?" he cried, slapping Akitada on the back with a chuckle. "Wonderful! I want the whole story when it is all done. But look! Here comes the virgin! Gorgeous litter, isn't it? I'm told the little princess is the prettiest creature. Some lucky man will take her to wife some day and make his fortune to boot."

They watched the litter, borne on the shoulders of twenty young noblemen in matching pale green and light purple robes, sway past in its gilded glory. Only the virgin's sleeves, many layers of gauzelike silk, shaded from the palest cream to deepest red, showed under the decorated curtains which hid her from view.

Akitada's mind was on another young woman and his failure to take her to wife. He sighed.

"Why so glum?" asked Kosehira. "Is it the problem at the university?"

"That, and other matters."

"Can I help?"

"No. Thank you. But tell me, are you acquainted with Lord Sakanoue?"

An expression of extreme distaste crossed Kosehira's normally cheerful, round face. "Certainly not. Don't like the fellow," he said. "There's talk that he forced Prince Yoakira's granddaughter to marry him. People say he plans to do her little brother out of his inheritance."

"Is this common gossip?" Akitada asked, surprised.

"Well, yes and no." Kosehira looked uncomfortable. "Some of us who knew the old prince are very concerned. You see, the old man never liked Sakanoue. Sakanoue is not a nice person. I myself witnessed an incident the other day where he pushed ahead of old Lady Kose, the late emperor's nurse. She cried out in alarm, and he said something very rude about senile old hags. I was shocked."

"He is definitely not nice," Akitada agreed. "I just had a taste of his lack of manners myself. The grandson is one of my students, by the way."

Kosehira's eyes widened in surmise.

Akitada added quickly, "No, no. He is not the reason I am at the university. Besides, a man's lack of manners does not necessarily prove that he has criminal intentions."

Kosehira shook his head. "In this instance I don't agree with you," he said. "But in any case it is a very good thing you're there. If anyone can get to the bottom of the affair, it is you. Just be careful! Sakanoue may be dangerous. Incidentally, he is some kind of cousin to the family. There was some talk after the old prince's son died, that he planned to adopt Sakanoue, but he evidently decided against it and raised his grandson instead."

Akitada would have pursued the matter, but Kosehira's other neighbor asked his host a question. On the street, a group of musicians was passing and at that moment they raised their flutes to their lips and played an ancient melody. Instantly Akitada was entranced. This was even better than Sato's lute playing, and it looked a great deal easier. For a moment he considered whether Sato might consent to teach him the rudiments, but that reminded him again of the murdered girl and her relationship with the music teacher. Sato must certainly have been interrogated by the police by now. Perhaps he had even been arrested.

With the flutists, the procession drew to its close. A final group of white-robed priests passed, and then the spectators fell in behind, following on foot or in their carriages. The stands were emptying rapidly, and Kosehira turned to Akitada.

"Will you join me in my carriage?" he asked.

"No. I must see my family and a guest home. Besides I have made the journey many times."

They parted with promises to meet again soon, and Akitada hurried back. But before he reached their viewing stand, he was hailed. It was the police captain he had met the day before.

"Glad to run into you," the man greeted him. "If you can spare the time, I'd like you to come to the jail with me. We have arrested a suspect in the park murder. He had a woman's red sash on him; I'd like you to identify it."

The picture of the old beggar flashed through Akitada's mind. If he was the suspect, he would have to try to get him released, but first he must see to his family and Tamako. He explained his dilemma to Kobe and promised to come as soon as he could.

To his surprised relief, he found that Lady Sugawara had invited Tamako to share their noon rice.

"And we will send her home safely in the rented carriage," she told her son, "since you cannot be trusted to extend the proper courtesies to a young lady."

Akitada's eyes went to Tamako. She looked calm and nodded with a little smile. "I told your mother how pleasant our walk was," she said, "but she insists that I must ride home in style. I am sure you must be very busy, and we are having a lovely time talking about you."

Akitada's sisters broke into giggles, and his mother smiled indulgently. Somewhat dazed, Akitada saw the ladies into their carriage and gave Tora instructions about taking Tamako home. Then he hurried to the prison.

The municipal jail was only a few blocks away. He found Kobe pacing in the guard room, a bare hall primarily decorated with chains, whips, handcuffs and leg irons hanging from hooks on the walls.

"Ah. There you are," Kobe said in lieu of a greeting. On a rickety and scarred wooden table lay a bulky paper package tied with cord. Kobe tore it open, and took out a wrinkled length of bright red brocade with a small pattern of flowers and birds in many colors. "Do you recognize it?"

Akitada stepped closer. "It looks like the one the girl wore to her lesson," he said, touching the fabric. The creases were particularly deep in two places. It looked as if the sash had been looped around something, and then pulled and twisted sharply. He glanced at Kobe. "This must have been used to strangle her."

Kobe nodded. He picked up the sash, refolded it, and put it in his sleeve. "Follow me!" he said, heading out the door.

They passed down a long, dingy corridor with many cell doors. Haggard faces appeared at the grates, but none of the prisoners spoke. At the end of the corridor a door opened onto a veranda which looked down into the jail's courtyard, where a dismal group awaited them. Two brutish-looking guards jumped up and jerked a bedraggled figure between them erect. With a thin cry of pain the old beggar staggered to his feet. Because his ankles were chained and his hands tied behind his back, he lost his balance and fell against one of the guards, who immediately clouted him over the head. The old man sagged to his knees again. His chin sank to his chest and he whimpered.