“Shall we have a look at the other storehouses?” Ayako asked after a moment.

Akitada was tired, but he nodded. “Very well. Put out the light, Tora, but leave the door unlocked. I have a feeling we have overlooked something.”

They inspected the other storehouses, all of them unlocked, without finding anything helpful. These contained the usual barrels of bean paste and pickles, bags of rice, barley, millet, and beans; jars of oil; boxes of candles; bales of silk and hemp; shelves filled with crockery, temple ornaments, and damaged statuary—in short, everything and nothing at all incriminating.

“It’s getting late,” Ayako urged, “and there’s one more thing I want to show you. It’s been haunting me ever since I first heard it.”

“Something you heard?” asked Akitada.

“Yes. It’s outside, in back of this storehouse.”

Everything was still peaceful in the large courtyard. The stars shimmered above, but the moon had shifted slightly toward the west. To the east there was the first perceptible fading of the night’s darkness.

They passed around the back corner of the building and walked to the middle of the empty space between it and a covered gallery.

“What is over there?” Akitada asked, pointing at several low tiled roofs in the next courtyard.

“The abbot’s quarters and temple administration.” Ayako was moving about slowly, listening intently. She waved them over. “Listen! Do you hear it?”

Akitada cocked his head. A slight humming sound was barely discernible. “The wind?” he asked.

“No. The wind has died down. Besides, it’s too regular. Like people singing far away.”

“Yes, you’re right. But it seems to come from the ground,” Akitada said, squatting down. The sound was still very faint, but he recognized it now as rhythmic chanting. It was much like the ceremony in the Tachibana hall, except that here a sort of communal chant seemed to alternate with a single, reedy voice. “It’s a monks’ chant,” he said, getting up with a frown.

“Coming from the ground?” asked Tora, his voice rising a little in sudden panic. “Let’s get out of here. I bet this is where those cursed monks bury their dead.”

“Quiet,” hissed Akitada. “I want to know where the sound is coming from.” He was moving again, bent over, in slowly widening loops that brought him gradually closer to the rear wall of the storehouse they had just left.

He found what he was looking for in the deep shadow of the building: a small wooden grille, slightly more than a foot square and set flush with the ground. It covered an underground air shaft from which the weak and unearthly sound of chanting came more clearly now. The hair on his scalp bristled.

Akitada knelt and bent close to peer into the subterranean darkness. He saw nothing, but a warm stench as of putrefaction filled his nose. Standing up quickly, he suppressed a rising nausea. Tora’s words came back to him: This is where those cursed monks bury their dead.

“What is it?” asked Tora from a safe distance.

“I’m not sure. It looks like an air shaft to an underground room.” Akitada’s voice was strained and flat.

Ayako came up beside him. “You’re right,” she said, staring down. “I don’t like this. It makes my skin crawl.” She moved closer to him.

“Hey! Someone’s coming,” Tora hissed from the corner of the building. “I think it’s the patrol.”

“Let’s go,” said Akitada.

They retraced their steps cautiously but quickly. The courtyard remained empty. They reached the gate between the storage yard and the kitchen area safely and were about to pass through and make a dash for the rain barrel when they heard voices. Ducking into the shadow of the wall, they waited.

The two guards came through the gate. Behind them hobbled an elderly monk. All three went to the first building.

“Dear heaven!” whispered Akitada. “We didn’t lock it.” He suddenly realized the very unpleasant situation they were in. Until then not even the pain in his shoulders had been able to break the spell of the night and the girl. Now they were about to be discovered. Neither in his present function as imperial inspector nor as a humble clerk in the ministry of justice could he afford to be charged with unlawful entry. And then what of the case against Joto? It would be a dismal failure and end his career. No. What was he thinking? They would not be permitted to leave. With a shudder, he thought of the air shaft.

They watched helplessly as the guards rattled the door, exclaimed, and fell to cursing their elderly companion.

“Why, you senile bastard!” one of them shouted. “You left the place unlocked again. This time His Reverence will be told and that will be it for you.” They punched and kicked the old monk. He cried out and started to run toward Akitada and his companions. They froze where they were, hoping that the darkness of their clothing blended with the shadow of the wall.

The old man did not get far. His tormentors were upon him in a minute, knocking him to the ground and beating him with their fists.

Tora muttered a curse, and Akitada, after the initial relief that they had not been discovered, flinched with every blow, blaming himself bitterly for his carelessness.

“Stop your noise.” One of the young monks yanked the old man up. “Or we’ll toss you in that shithole with old Gennin!”

The monk found his courage and cried shrilly, “You are devils! You are an abomination to the Lord Buddha, and your master grovels in the sins of flesh and corruption. You are killers and fornicators and will live in hell forever, where demons will... Ahh.”

A fist blow full to his mouth stopped his outcry. Akitada could bear no more. He made a move forward, but Ayako snatched at his shoulder. He gasped with the pain.

One of the watchmen raised his head and looked in their direction. For a moment his glance lingered and they thought they were lost.

“You hear anything?” he asked his companion.

The other man looked up from twisting the old monk’s arms behind his back and asked irritably, “What? No. Help me with this bastard.”

The first monk cast another glance their way. “I thought there was something over there. Something moved.”

“Probably a cat.”

The two guards dragged the old monk with them and entered the storehouse, presumably to check if anything was missing. A light flickered on inside.

“Quick!” whispered Ayako. “They’ll notice that the lantern is still warm. In a minute the whole place will be swarming.” As soon as she spoke, there was a shout from the storehouse: “Thieves! Help! Thieves!”