connected with what everyone seemed so anxious to hide.

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I . J . P a r k e r

“My name is Yoshimine Taketsuna,” he began, patiently, as

befitted his present status. “I am a convict. His Excellency, the

governor, being short-handed in the provincial archives, heard

that I have skill with the brush and employed me as a clerk. The

governor told me to assist Mr. Osawa because he cannot spare

the inspector for more than a few days. I doubt we can have met

before. We only arrived in Minato last night.”

Sakamoto was still frowning, and Akitada wondered if he

had recognized his voice. “What were you convicted of?” the

professor asked.

Akitada hedged a little. “That is surely not material to my er-

rand, since both the governor and Mr. Osawa trusted me. How-

ever, I’m not ashamed of what I have done. I killed a man who

got in my way. The man was a retainer of Lord Miyoshi.”

“Miyoshi?” Sakamoto’s eyebrows rose. A series of expres-

sions passed across his face, surprise, curiosity, and perhaps

relief. “What do you mean, he got in your way?”

Akitada looked past him. “My object was Lord Miyoshi. I

consider him a traitor.”

Sakamoto cried, “And so do I, though perhaps we had bet-

ter not say so. I am sorry. You have my sympathy. Men like

Miyoshi have few friends here.” He narrowed his eyes. “But it

seems rather strange that Mutobe should trust you under the

circumstances.”

Akitada laughed. “I doubt he knows. I arrived recently and

the shortage of clerks in Mano is desperate.”

“Ah.” Sakamoto nodded. “It must be, and I expect you

have an excellent education. Such men are very useful in

Sadoshima.” He glanced toward the lake. The irritation re-

turned to his face. He held up the governor’s letter. “Do you

know what is in this?”

“No, but . . .”

“Well?”

I s l a n d o f E x i l e s

175

“I heard that the governor’s son has been arrested for mur-

dering the Second Prince. His trial is coming up shortly. Since

the crime took place in your house, it might be that the gover-

nor is asking for information which might help to clear his son.”

Sakamoto made a face. “You guessed it, and it’s an imposi-

tion. He should know I have nothing to tell him that he does not

know already. Unfortunately, I must answer, and answer in

writing. You could not have come at a worse time. The high

constable dropped by and I expect other guests shortly. Could

you return tomorrow for your answer?”

Akitada was instantly and overridingly curious about the

other guests and decided to extend his stay as long as he could

to see who else arrived. The fact that he could hardly insist on

an immediate answer, nor give in too easily after creating a

scene with the servants, gave him an idea. In a tone both regret-

ful and sympathetic, he said, “I am very sorry to put you to this

inconvenience, sir, but I don’t have the authority to make such a

decision.” He paused to make a face. “The problem is aggravated

by the fact that Inspector Osawa is still very unhappy about

being turned away from your door last night.”

Sakamoto looked vexed. “Yes, yes. I heard. Most unfortunate.

Tell him the servant in question has been disciplined severely. Of

course, I shall make my apologies in person. Only not today.”

“If I might make a suggestion, sir? Perhaps I could compose

the answer for you? All I need are a few particulars; then you can

see to your guests while I write the letter for you.”

Sakamoto stared at him. “Really? Could you?” he said, his

face brightening. “Yes. Very generous of you to offer. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you have a cup of wine while I explain matters

to my guest? Then we’ll discuss the letter, and you can write it

out while I tend to business. How’s that?”

It was precisely what Akitada had proposed. With any luck,

he would be kept in Sakamoto’s house long enough to see the

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I . J . P a r k e r

other guests arriving, while trying to find out what the profes-

sor knew of the murder.

After Sakamoto left, the long-faced servant brought a flask

of wine and a cup on a tray. The offended expression on his face

announced that he was not used to serving other people’s

servants.

Akitada greeted him with a smile. “I’m sorry to be such

trouble on a busy day. Believe me, it wasn’t my idea. I gather you

expect guests?”

The servant set down the wine. “Don’t let it bother you,” he

said with a scowl.

“Your master’s household is in capable hands. Please pour

yourself a cup. I’m not very thirsty.”

The surly fellow hesitated, torn between temptation and

the need to show his resentment. The wine won. He poured

and emptied the cup, licking his lips. Akitada nodded with an

encouraging smile. “Thanks,” muttered the servant. “I needed

that. It’s been a long night and a hectic day. Looks like I’m not

getting any sleep tonight, either.”

“That’s terrible.” Akitada shook his head in sympathy. “I

know the feeling. The inspector’s laid up with a cold, or we’d be

in the saddle going to the next inspection, where he’d keep me

bent over my desk all night while he sleeps. Then we start all

over again the next day. Have another cup. Still having people

come about the murder, are you?”

The servant thawed a little and poured himself another.

“Yes. You can’t imagine the trouble that has caused. First the

governor and the police, now all the prince’s friends, and I’ve

got to get rooms ready and arrange for food. They expect

only the best and the professor hates spending money. He em-

ploys only the three of us. Yuki takes care of the stables. That

leaves Tatsuo and me. And you’ve seen Tatsuo. He spends all

his time eating and resting his great hulk. Serving meals and

I s l a n d o f E x i l e s

177

refreshments in the lake pavilion is a great nuisance. We’re kept

running and fetching between the lake and the house the best

part of the day and into the night.”

Akitada followed his gaze through the open doors to the

pavilion and the glistening lake beyond. Sakamoto was again in

close conversation with his guest.

“That’s where it happened, wasn’t it?” he asked. “Were you

there?”

“No. We had already served. They send us away while they’re

talking. And they wouldn’t let us touch the body afterwards.

They put him on a litter and covered him up before they let Yuki

and Tatsuo carry him to the doctor’s house. I guess our hands

weren’t fine enough to touch him, or our eyes to look on his

dead face.”

Akitada shook his head. “And then you had to do the clean-

ing up. I heard a dog got to the dish of poison?”

The servant sighed. “My dog. Poor Kuro. I was really fond of

him. We always let him eat the leftovers. That dirty scoundrel of

a killer!”

At the bottom of the garden the two men started toward the

house.

“Uh-oh,” muttered the servant. “They’re coming back. I’ve

got to run. Thanks for the wine.”

For a moment Akitada was tempted to make himself scarce,

too. Dealing with Sakamoto had been one thing, but Kumo was

suspicious. Well, he would just have to bluff it out.

When the two men entered from the veranda, Akitada rose

and bowed deeply.

“So we meet again,” drawled Kumo, his eyes passing over

Akitada as if he wanted to memorize his appearance. Today he

wore a hunting robe of green brocade with white silk trousers, a

costume suitable for riding and handsome on his tall, broad-