Probably both, Akitada thought, but he shook his head. “He is looking into some business connected with my work. I expect he got side-tracked. Saburo is going to find him.”

Hanae bit her lip and gave him a searching look. “Be safe, both of you.”

It was difficult to fool women.

∞

On the way to Otsu, Akitada and Saburo exchanged whatever information they had that would help track down Tora. Saburo also spoke briefly of his past and his upbringing. He apologized again for not having shared his background.

Akitada blamed himself. He had treated Saburo from the start with suspicion and told him frankly that he had no respect for “spies” and very little respect for monks. As a result, Saburo had kept his past to himself as much as possible. And since he had cut all ties with his family, he had seen no need to mention them either.

Saburo’s mother created a problem Akitada had not desired, but his obligation to his retainers implied that he look after them and their families as if they were his on flesh and blood. Mrs. Kuruda would remain a fixture in his household until she died—or until she decided to return to her daughter’s house.

But as they talked, Akitada became increasingly uneasy about letting Saburo search for Tora. In the end, he said, “Saburo, I think it will be better if I go to speak to the abbot and see if I can get them to release Tora.”

Saburo glanced at him. “He will deny any knowledge of him, sir.”

“Probably, but perhaps I can make him uneasy enough to let him go anyway. I’m in charge of a legal case that’s been brought against the temple.”

Saburo was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Will they ask you to exchange favors?”

Akitada grimaced. “Probably. It is a hateful thought, but Tora is more important to me than either temple.”

“In that case, sir, would it not be better if you had proof that Tora is there?”

“Yes, but we cannot wish for the impossible.”

“Let me take a look. I may find something. I know the place very well.” He added more softly, “To my regret.”

Akitada stared at him aghast. “Are you saying that what happened to you, to your face, happened there? Monks did that? On the holy mountain? They did this in the Buddha’s name?”

Saburo looked away. “They were sohei. The warrior monks are mostly lay people. And they are no better than criminals. Many of them were criminals at one time. All of them are very tough fighters. I was never a fighter, just a spy. They needed to find out who had sent me.”

“Dear gods! Under no circumstances will you return to that place. You should have told me.”

Saburo shook his head. “I’ve learned my lesson and will be more careful this time. Besides, I feel responsible. I shouldn’t have let Tora go by himself.”

“No. I won’t allow it.”

Saburo said nothing. They rode silently side by side, both thinking about the problem.

Finally Saburo said, “I have an idea, sir. And it’s perfectly safe.”

“Yes?”

“I expect Tora rode up the mountain. He must have left his horse somewhere. If it’s in the temple’s visitor stables, we will know that he is still there.”

Akitada reigned in his horse. “Yes, of course. You propose to check the stables and come back to Otsu?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’ll do nothing else?”

“I promise.”

“Very well. Report to provincial headquarters.”

They parted company on the outskirts of Otsu, Saburo to take a road up the mountain to the temple, and Akitada to ride into town.

∞

After looking in on Kosehira to report on Tora’s likely whereabouts, Akitada went to see Chief Takechi.

Takechi greeted him eagerly. “Thank you for coming, sir. Frankly, this is quite beyond me. Kimura says it’s the same thing all over again. A bump on the back of the head that wouldn’t kill a child, and then the same signs of suffocation.”

“The spots on the whites of the eyes?”

“Yes.” Takechi ran a hand over his face in a distracted manner. “I suppose it’s murder. Unless some sort of new disease is going around.”

“Who is the victim?”

“An old fellow by the name of Tokuno. A street sweeper.”

“Where is the body?”

“Back in the jail. Kimura’s finished with it. It will soon be released for the funeral.”

“Shall we take a look?”

Takechi made a face. “If you insist. I must warn you. Kimura’s cut him up pretty badly.”

Akitada smiled briefly. “I think I can bear the sight. Lead the way.”

When they reached the room where Akitada had viewed Judge Nakano’s body, Kimura was still there. He stood frowning down at the corpse of an old man whose age-ravaged body had been further damaged by the cuts made by the coroner. Most of these had been sewn back up somewhat carelessly, but the body nevertheless presented a shocking sight. Akitada had seen men disemboweled, trampled by horses, and beheaded. All of these methods of killing humans had involved a lot of blood. This corpse was quite pale and bloodless and far more shocking.

Kimura bowed.

Akitada said, “The same as Nakano’s case?”

Kimura nodded. “I still don’t believe it. It must be murder. The only way it could have happened is that the murderer stuffed something in the man’s mouth and then held his nose.”

“Ah.” Akitada nodded. “It could have happened that way. Any proof?”

“No.”

“No bruising around the mouth and nose?”

“Not really. But if the victim was unconscious, it would not take much force. They were both old men.”

“What about that bruise on Nakano’s head. Did you find the same thing here?”

“Yes, sir. Though it’s nothing I could be sure about.”

Takechi cleared his throat. “There was one thing though, sir.” They both looked at him. Takechi reached into his sleeve and handed Akitada the small carved figure of Jizo. “This was lying on top of him when he was found.”

Chapter Fourteen

Death of a Sweeper.

The small figure looked identical to the one they had found in Judge Nakano’s study and to all the other little figures sold at the shrine fair. Akitada felt a small shiver run down his back and glanced at Takechi. “Surely,” he said, “this is extraordinary.”

Takechi nodded. “If it’s murder, sir, it would seem that both men were killed by the same person.”

“What do we know about the dead man?’

“Not much. Tokuno lived alone, earning a few coppers by sweeping the roads and carrying away refuse and night soil. The night soil he sold to farmers. He owned nothing but the clothes on his back and a decrepit handcart.”

“An outcast?”

“No. Just a poor old man.”

“Still, someone who had nothing in common with the judge.” Akitada turned the small figure in his hand. Takechi’s murders were becoming more puzzling by the moment.

The chief said, “Exactly. It makes no sense. Perhaps a madman is at work.”

Akitada nodded slowly. “Such things have happened. And the fact that he left behind this very odd token of his visit may prove that he isn’t in his right mind.”

The coroner had listened with raised brows. “May I have a look, sir?” he asked.

Akitada passed over the carving.

Doctor Kimura said, “It’s a Jizo. They sell those at all the fairs. There must be hundreds about. Travelers and pilgrims buy them for protection.”

Akitada nodded. “Yes. I saw them for sale at a shrine fair. But why leave such a thing behind after a murder?”

Kimura frowned. “Perhaps it’s a message.”

The chief was unconvinced. “A message for whom? It’s not as if either old man had a large family.”

Akitada said, “And what does it mean? Why would a killer want us to know that it was his work.”

“Well, if he’s mad, he doesn’t need a reason,” the coroner offered.

Akitada frowned. “I don’t think he’s mad in that sense. You said, people buy these for protection if they are on a journey? Perhaps he is a pilgrim.”