Akitada said stubbornly, “I’ve had a feeling all along that something happened long ago and that it involved the judge and the jailer. I just did not know how the two old peasants from Okuni fit in. Then Sukemichi, their overlord, was also killed and his father was involved in a notorious murder case. In a murder case, mind you, where he was the suspect. What more do you want?”

Kosehira sighed. “I suppose it’s the archives then. There should be documents covering any murder case important enough to involve a Taira.”

∞

The archives, however, were the place where Akitada’s team had been working industriously on the legal documents involving the temples Enryaku-ji and Onjo-ji. The hall was cluttered with people and stacks of document boxes in various states of completion. In fact, Akitada’s own desk nearly sagged under towering stack of paperwork that had been gathered for his information or study.

He and Kosehira stood for a moment at the entrance, regarding the place in despair.

“I should be at work here.” Akitada stated the obvious.

“We’ll cause all sorts of confusion,” Kosehira said.

For a moment they remained undecided, then Kosehira found his archivist, who had been lending a hand to the guests, and directed him to find documents relating to trials some fifteen to twenty-five years ago.

The elderly man bowed and led them to shelving where dusty boxes had been resting in possibly permanent peace. He dusted off the first stack with an old rag he carried and remarked, “The most notorious case involved Taira Sukenori. It happened in the Echi district and …”

“That’s the one,” Kosehira and Akitada cried together.

The archivist paused and looked at them in surprise. “Just that year and none of the others?”

“Just that case,” said Akitada.

A moment later, they both sat on the floor with a single document box. As an economy, the filing system required that only the basic facts of major cases be kept. The box contained documentation for other murder trials, as well as for two cases of arson and a trial for piracy on Lake Biwa. Even so, the Taira murder consisted of an impressive number of sheets.

Kosehira read, passing each sheet to Akitada when he was done.

“Something wasn’t right with this case,” Akitada remarked. “Did you see where Hatta tried to withdraw his confession?”

“It only says that the condemned prisoner protested his sentence. So, apparently, did his son. Who was this Hatta?”

Akitada shuffled through the pages. “It says he was Sukenori’s betto.”

“Perhaps he was angry that Sukenori did not help him?”

“Hmm. The case seems clear enough. The victim, a rice merchant, was staying at the Taira manor as a guest. During a hunt, to which this Fumi Takahiro had been invited, Hatta shot him with his bow and arrow. Apparently there had been an argument over Hatta’s daughter being dishonored by Fumi the night before. He shot him close range. There was no question about this being a hunting accident.”

Kosehira frowned. “It seems straightforward enough.”

“Did you note the names of the two witnesses?”

Kosehira took another look. “They were two beaters. Oh! Juro and Wakiya. Yes. But I still don’t see it.”

“No, but there is a hint here that Hatta may not have been guilty. Add that to the rumors about Sukenori, and it looks very much as if Hatta confessed to protect his master.”

“And regretted it.”

The archivist cleared his throat. They looked at him.

“There was another case involving a Hatta, Excellency. In the following year. Shall I get that box, too?”

“By all means,” said Akitada. He turned to Kosehira and said, “I think we’ve got it. I think we’ve solved the mystery. What do you think?” He rubbed his hands in his eagerness to prove the point.

Kosehira looked happy, too. “You know, I should remember more about this story. Of course, I was preoccupied with my own affairs. Graduating from the university, trying for my first post, a new marriage. But I do recall talk about Sukenori. Something about a business quarrel over debt. You think that Sukenori bribed his way out of a murder charge? He was supposed to be in financial trouble.”

“Excellent! Now we have a motive.”

“It would take a lot of money to make another man confess to murder,” Kosehira said dubiously.

The archivist returned, blowing dust from another old box. He set it down, saying, “It involved a relative, I think. The Hattas must have been a violent family.”

Akitada reached eagerly for the box. Together with Kosehira, he scanned the content until they found the name again.

“Here it is. Hatta Takashi.” Kosehira pointed. “Must be the son. There’s not much here, is there?”

The incident that led to the arrest and conviction of Hatta Takashi was the young man’s attack on Taira Sukenori, during which Sukenori suffered a serious knife wound. Apparently Sukenori had pressed the judge (Nakano) for a quick judgment that would remove this violent youth from the area. Hatta Takashi was sent into exile and hard labor, just as his father had been the year before.”

Akitada asked the archivist, “Is there any further news of either Hatta?”

The old man shook his head. “Not to my knowledge. Perhaps their family is still in the area, though their property would have been confiscated after the murder conviction. That information would be in the land surveys. Do you want me to look?”

Yes, they did.

What they found confirmed the archivist’s assumption that the property had been confiscated. The victim’s family had been paid off and the rest, all but a small parcel, had become government property, but now belonged to Enryaku-ji.

Kosehira commented bitterly, “Soon those monks will own all of my province.”

The second case against Hatta’s son caused the confiscation of the small parcel left to the children. This property was given to Taira Sukenori as recompense for the serious wound he had suffered at the hands of the younger Hatta.

Kosehira said, “So both the father and the son were sent into exile and hard labor. After all this time, they are most likely dead. That leaves the mother and a daughter. What happened to them?”

But the archivist had no answer this time.

Akitada sighed. “We must go back and talk to the older peasants in the area. That old man serving in the stables at the Taira manor knew something he didn’t want to talk about. I bet he has the answer.”

“I cannot possibly leave again,” Kosehira said. “Work has piled up while we were hunting.”

Akitada glanced over at his desk. “Neither can I. The clerks are almost done. I need to look at their reports and then write up my own.”

There was another reason for his wish to finish his assignment. He knew he had to leave Kosehira’s house. Staying even one more day after what had passed between him and Yukiko was impossible.

They sat silently for a few moments. Then Kosehira asked, “Do you think he will kill again?”

“I don’t know. Is there anyone left alive who had a hand in the trials of the two Hattas?”

“What about the original victim. Do we know anything about him?”

They bent over the documents again. Even the archivist inserted himself to help. Akitada was amused. For once, they had managed to rouse the curiosity of a man who only cared about keeping his boxes filed in the proper order.

“There it is,” cried Kosehira, finding the page. “ ‘The Otsu merchant Fumi Takahiro, in his fortieth year.’ Fumi? Now I wonder…”

The archivist cried, “Yes, sir. There is a rice dealer near the harbor. His name is Fumi. A very wealthy man.”

“Well, he cannot be the same.” Akitada smiled. “A son perhaps?”

“I don’t know,” said the archivist. “He’s quite old, I think.”

“Hmm.” Akitada pondered for a moment. “I think I’ll pay him a visit later tonight after we deal with our duties.”