The prefect brightened. “That must be it then.”

Akitada asked, “Did the servants have anything to report? Did anyone hear anything, for example?”

“No, sir.”

Akitada sighed. “Take us to the body, Prefect.”

They had brought Taira Sukemichi into the reception room of the manor. There he rested on the dais, dressed in what appeared to be his best court costume, his hair arranged and topped with a court hat. It was impossible to see any injury.

Akitada glanced at those present. Sukemichi’s family and household knelt below the dais. They wore the pale hemp mourning robes, and Sukemichi’s three wives were heavily veiled. The mourners had stopped their wailing at their entrance and watched as Kosehira and Akitada approached the body, bowed, and stood looking at it.

There was a small stain on the new tatami mat Sukemichi’s head rested on. It suggested that the fatal wound had been to the back of the head and was still oozing a little. Sukemichi’s face was peaceful.

Akitada regretted his death. Sukemichi had been a generous host and if perhaps a little too enamored of falconry, had not been unlikeable. Yet someone had hated him enough to kill him. Or perhaps it had indeed been a robber, surprised by the unlucky Sukemichi.

After a suitable time, the prefect, Kosehira, and Akitada bowed again, then turned and bowed to the family. After that they left the room.

Outside, Akitada said to the prefect, “It will be necessary to speak to the family. Would you please let them know?”

∞

Only Sukemichi’s senior wife and his eldest son received them. They were in a smaller room behind the hall where the body lay, and the chanting of the monks could be heard clearly through the wall. It cast a special gloom over the interview.

They expressed their condolences to Lady Taira, and his young heir, a fourteen-year-old, who looked confused. Having become Lord Taira so abruptly and being expected to direct the fortunes of his family was clearly beyond him. His mother, who sat to his side and slightly behind him, was no help at all. She never lifted her veil and seemed to wait for them to leave.

An uncomfortable silence fell after they had all said their piece and the new Lord Taira had bowed each time. Kosehira cleared his throat and addressed the boy. “Regrettably, the prefect has some questions concerning what happened. It is a bad time, but I’m certain you will wish your father’s murderer caught as soon as possible.”

The youngster nodded. “Yes. But I know nothing and neither does my mother.”

Lady Taira confirmed this. “My husband’s death is a great shock. We are quite unable to grasp it, let alone give you any information. I speak for all of us.”

“Forgive me,” said Akitada, “but did Lord Sukemichi spend the night alone?”

Lady Taira gasped, and her son blushed to the roots of his hair. He shot a glance at his mother and said, “I believe so.”

“And was it his custom to walk in the garden after rising in the morning?”

The boy raised his chin and asked, “Why are you asking these questions? Are you not looking for the robber who killed my father?”

Akitada took pity on him. “Of course, but we need to find anyone who may have seen or heard something. Besides, if we can establish that your father customarily walked in the garden, the killer may have known this and lain in wait, you see.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “You mean someone planned to kill him?”

“It’s possible.”

“Oh. Sometimes he would go into the garden, I think. Maybe his servant would know.” The new lord subsided into misery again.

They said a few soothing words and departed. Outside, Kosehira said to Akitada, “I guess the wife didn’t spend the night in Sukemichi’s bed.”

“No, but someone else may have. She had a strong reaction to my question. And the son was clearly embarrassed. We’d better check with the servants.”

Ishimoda offered timidly, “Must we ask such questions? It seems unnecessary and is clearly offensive to her ladyship.”

Akitada eyed him with a raised brow. “We must, Prefect. After a murder there is no privacy left. All the family secrets are inspected.”

Kosehira said nothing, but he looked unhappy. Akitada got an inkling of how most people felt about his own methods, indeed, about his meddling in murder cases. He steeled himself against his doubts. Not only was it right to pay this debt to the murdered man, but leaving his murderers free was surely an offense against the gods.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Family Secrets

There was a rather strange scene in the courtyard when they emerged.. One of the servants, a middle-aged male, was headed toward the gate, pulling a well-dressed young woman by her arm. She was sobbing loudly. His grip on her arm was certainly not gentle, and he gave her an occasional jerk forward to make her walk faster.

Kosehira said, “I wonder what that’s all about?” Leaning over the railing, he shouted to the servant, “You there! Come here, and bring the girl with you!”

The man stopped to look back. Giving the woman a push toward the gate, he started toward them. The prefect called out to his men, who seized the young woman and brought her back. The two stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking frightened.

“Well,” said Kosehira, “let’s find out why he was in such a hurry to take this young woman away.”

They walked down to the pair. The young woman was very pretty, even with her eyes swollen from weeping and her nose red. Akitada noted that her clothes were good silk, not the cotton or ramie he would have expected of a servant. She also wore her hair long. He thought he knew what had been happening and why she looked so frightened and distraught.

Kosehira perhaps also guessed, for he spoke quite gently to her. “My dear,” he said, “don’t be frightened. Nobody will punish you. Just answer our questions, and if you are truthful, I’ll see what can be done for you. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

She sniffed, bowed, and said, “This person is called Mineko. I’m one of the maids. Her ladyship told Kato to take me away.”

Kosehira looked at the servant. “And you are Kato?”

The man bowed and said, “Yes. I serve his lordship as major domo. I was showing this girl the way out. On orders of her ladyship.”

The girl hung her head.

“It seems to me,” said Akitada, “that this is a strange time to deal with unsatisfactory servants when your master has just died.”

Kosehira said, “I agree.”

The majordomo compressed his lips. “No doubt her ladyship had her reasons.”

The girl fell to her knees. “Please help me. I don’t know where to go. I was born in this house.”

Kosehira and Akitada exchanged a glance. Kosehira asked the major domo, “By any chance, was this young woman favored by Lord Sukemichi?”

The servant said nothing, but Mineko cried eagerly, “His lordship was very kind to me. He would never send me away like this.” Tears welled up again and she pressed a hand to her stomach.

Akitada thought he recognized the gesture. “Are you with child?” he asked her. “His lordship’s child?”

Ishimoda gasped audibly.

She flushed a deep crimson. “Oh, no! Never. His lordship was like a father to me.”

The majordomo sneered, “If she’s with child, it’s because she’s been lying with the stable hands.”

She burst into protestations, and Kosehira said firmly, “Stop this. Mineko will stay here with the other maids until the matter is cleared up. And you, Kato, will do well to remember that you may be given twenty lashes if you’ve been lying.”

Kato paled and bowed.

When they had left, Kosehira said to Akitada, “If she was Sukemichi’s mistress, it would give his wife a motive, surely?”