Kosehira gave a sigh of relief. “I cannot tell you how much work awaits me. I’ll have dinner here and go back late.”

Akitada was helping the archivist return the papers to their boxes. He nodded. “I’ll have a bite in the city. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Much better than risking another meeting with Yukiko. But he could not help the pain this thought brought with it.

∞

Akitada walked to Otsu Harbor. He wished he could have told Takechi what they had discovered, but it was too late. The chief had gone home to his family.

Not having any family to go to, Akitada had a quick meal in a busy restaurant catering to travelers. The food was barely edible, but he had little appetite anyway. He paid and asked directions to the business of the rice merchant Fumi. He was told that Fumi Tokiari lived in a substantial home close to the harbor. It turned out to be one of several such properties belonging to wealthy merchants and ship owners. In this case, there was still a sort of business in the front of the large building where people could purchase rice for their households, but Akitada had been told that most of the family’s business was in shipping large amounts of rice to the capital and that part of the business operated from warehouses close to the port.

Still, given the Fumi wealth, Akitada approved of the modesty that still acknowledged humble beginnings when many another rich man had already moved to an estate in the suburbs. He passed into the shop, where he was greeted politely by two clerks, and asked to speak to Fumi Tokiari. A clerk dashed off to announce him, and a moment later a heavy-set elderly man in a sober black silk robe emerged from the back.

“I am Sugawara,” Akitada introduced himself, “and temporarily attached to the governor’s office. His Excellency has asked me to look into some troubling local crimes. You could be most helpful by giving me some information.”

Fumi looked surprised and uneasy, but he bowed deeply and led the way to the back of the house. There, in the well-furnished office where he conducted his business he offered Akitada a seat and refreshments.

“Nothing, thank you. I’m not altogether sure what your relationship to Fumi Takahiro is, but my interest concerns him rather than you.”

“He was my brother.”

Akitada thought the man’s nervousness had increased and wondered at it. “I understand he was the victim of a murder on the estate of Lord Taira Sukenori?”

Fumi compressed his lips. “Yes.”

It was clear that Akitada would have to work for his information.

“The man who confessed to the crime was Lord Taira’s betto, a man by the name of Hatta. He was sentenced to life in the mines in the north. Apparently his son later attacked Lord Taira. Do you happen to know why he should have done such a thing?”

“I know very little about the case, sir. My brother had some business with Lord Taira and, since he enjoyed hunting, he had been invited to the Taira estate. Lord Taira was a great hunter. The murder happened during a hunt. Lord Taira at first claimed it was an accident, but the arrow tip protruded from my poor brother’s back and the authorities decided he must have been shot by someone very close and facing him. This caused a lot of rumors and I pressed for an investigation. It was then that the man Hatta confessed.”

“But what was his motive?”

Fumi made a face. “The man had the nerve to claim that my brother had attacked his young daughter sexually.”

“That would constitute a strong motive. A father has a right to protect his children. You clearly did not believe this. Why wasn’t Hatta given consideration during the sentencing.?”

Fumi had reddened with anger. “Because it was a foul lie! My brother would never have laid a hand on the girl.”

“It does you credit to defend your brother,” Akitada said dubiously.

“Of course I defend my brother, but in this case there was proof that my brother was innocent.”

“How so?”

“My brother preferred men to women. He was unmarried and had never shown any interest in females.” Fumi paused. “That’s why I am his heir. He never had any children.”

“Ah!” Akitada nodded. “That is very interesting. You must have wondered at the time who would make up such stories.”

“Not at all. Hatta lied.”

“Yes, perhaps. What sort of business did your brother have with Lord Taira?”

The look of uneasiness returned to the rice merchant’s face. “My brother had advanced his lordship some funds from time to time. It was good business. The money earned a satisfactory interest. Lord Taira had a great estate to administer and a certain manner of living that required a good deal of money.”

“I see. When you came to settle your brother’s estate, had all the debts been paid?”

Fumi fidgeted. “No. And I never got the money either. Lord Taira claimed there was no debt, that he had paid my brother before his death. I tried to collect from his son after he died, but he also refused.”

“Was it a large debt?”

“Very large. I almost lost the business.”

Akitada studied the merchant with interest. Fumi certainly had no love for the Taira family, father or son. He might well have a good motive for murdering Sukemichi. Sukemichi had never fitted very well with the other victims. But after a moment, he discarded the notion, thanked Fumi, and left.

It was getting dark by then and he was tired, but instead of returning to the villa, he stayed on in the tribunal for several more hours, working on the legal documents on his desk. Only a servant was still in the archives, and he felt guilty for keeping the man from his bed. But he felt a great urgency to finish this assignment and return to the capital. The children would be disappointed that they would not attend the great shrine festival after all, but he would try to make it up to them.

When he finally closed the last document box and stretched, the servant was fast asleep leaning against a pillar. Akitada looked with satisfaction at the pile of pages that constituted his notes. Tomorrow he would draft his report, discuss it with the members of his group, and then give it the final polish. The clerks would make copies, he and the others would sign, and they would all return to their homes.

For a moment, he recalled her image as he had seen her last, a slender figure in blue surrounded by the golden light of the rising sun. He had made his farewells on that occasion, telling her that he would always remember her just like that.

He doubted it was enough to live on in the future.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Wood Shed

The path leading up the side of the mountain was rough and stony. The rain had stopped, but everything was wet. They slipped and scrambled as they climbed. Tora was getting very tired and wondered how Saburo, for whom this was the same climb in less than eight hours, managed. The track took them back into dense woods and into a twilight that persisted even though the sun must be well up. After quite a long time, Tora asked, “How much farther?”

Saburo paused and looked back. “It was dark when I came this way before. I’m not sure. I’m not sure where we are or if we are on the right path. I’m moving by instinct only.”

Tora cursed. His head still hurt and the physical exertion made the pain worse. “Let’s stop to check. There must be a clearing somewhere.” He looked around and pointed. “Over there. Maybe we can get a glimpse of the valley and you can fix on the direction.”

Saburo grunted his assent, and they left the path to clamber along the steep slope toward where light appeared between the trees. Not for the first time, Tora cursed his sword which managed to get in his way in this thicket. Saburo, who did not have a sword, but who carried secret weapons hidden in the sleeves and linings of his clothes and inside his boots, was better off.