Yukinari flushed angrily. “Have we?” he said. “There has been continuous friction between those hoodlums and my soldiers. This is only the latest incident, but this time they were armed. Every time my men encounter those baldpates, they come to blows with them. At first we punished our people severely, in spite of their protests that they had been provoked. Then I was a witness to the behavior of those monks in an incident with a local merchant. I have since complained repeatedly to Ikeda, most recently on the morning of the ... murder, but to no avail. In my opinion, the prefect is incompetent.” Yukinari stopped, swallowed, and added more calmly, “I have ordered my men to stay away from the monks. More I cannot do.”

Akitada nodded. “Thank you. You confirm my suspicions. It may be that you can do something after all. We will speak of it later.”

Yukinari stood and bowed, then looked at him with empty eyes. “If I can be of any assistance in the other . . . case, I would be grateful for the chance, Your Excellency.”

Akitada found Tora regaling an eager group of soldiers with stories of his military exploits in the north. They parted company reluctantly.

“You were right, sir,” Tora said excitedly. “Hidesato’s been here. Filled out his application and left again.”

“I know. And it was accepted, but when they tried to notify him, he had moved.”

“Oh.” Tora’s face fell. “One of the soldiers said he saw him in town. In the brothel quarter. I suppose I’ll try there next.”

“Very well. Lead the way.”

“You?” cried Tora. “In the brothel quarter? No. I’ll go by myself.”

“We go together.” Akitada’s expression allowed no argument.

* * * *

TWELVE

RAT’S TALES

T

he brothels were in the southwest quadrant, not far from the market, but in an area of poor tenements and cheap wine shops. In narrow, dirty streets littered with human and inanimate debris, cripples and blind beggars huddled wherever they could find a sunny wall. Filthy, half-naked children covered with bruises and sores ran about, screaming. Few healthy young men were in evidence, and those had hungry eyes that watched Akitada and Tora speculatively. Now and then one would approach and offer to show them to a “love house” with “first-rate girls” or introduce them to “jesters.”

“Jesters?” asked Akitada.

Tora made a face. “Pretty boys,” he said.

They asked about Hidesato and twice paid good coppers to be led to him, only to discover that their guide had willfully misunderstood and taken them to a brothel instead.

Eventually the streets grew dark and chill. Here and there a lantern bobbed, marking the arrival of customers. Raucous laughter and song rang into the dark streets every time someone lifted the gaudy curtains of wine shops and brothels. From behind bamboo grilles female voices called out to them, and when they looked, they saw behind the bars ghostly creatures, their eyes and lips garish in masklike faces turned a sickly green, yellow, or lavender by the colored lights of paper lanterns. Love was for sale in every color of the rainbow.

The thought of buying one of those grotesque females nauseated Akitada. He thought of Ayako and how clean she was, how sweet the scent of her skin, how naturally she had come into his arms. His longing for her suddenly overwhelmed him. He stopped in the middle of the street. “Tora,” he said, “I think we have done enough today. Why not stop by Higekuro’s before we turn in for the night?”

Tora agreed immediately.

The quiet street of Higekuro’s school was a different world. In the dusk, neighbors were having their evening chats in the street. Ayako, too, was outside her door, leaning on a broom and laughing with an elderly woman who held a small child in her arms. Ayako wore only a simple gown and had her hair pulled back and tied with a ribbon, but Akitada’s heart missed a beat.

When she saw him, her face lit up. She smoothed back her hair with unconscious feminine grace and smiled shyly.

Tora whistled between his teeth. “Now there’s a change for the better,” he said. “I guess all that girl needed to turn her into a proper female was a man in her bed.”

Akitada gave him a look of cold fury. “Ayako risked her life last night,” he said through clenched teeth. “If I ever hear you insult her again, it will be the last time you will speak in my presence. Do you understand?”

Tora’s chin sagged. Akitada went to greet Ayako, seeking in her eyes what he felt in his heart, hoping that she was no longer angry. The neighbor muttered a good night and scuttled across the street.

“How are you?” Akitada asked softly.

“Very well. And your shoulders?”

“Much better. I am...” he searched for words, “deeply grateful.”

Her eyes softened.

“Perhaps,” he suggested daringly, “we could repeat the treatment in the morning?”

She blushed. “Why not? If your shoulders still give you pain.”

“Tomorrow then.” He added more loudly, “We’ve come for a visit.”

“Oh.”

They looked at each other hungrily. Belatedly, Akitada remembered Tora. When he turned, he found Tora pretending to study the massive gate of the house next door. Set into a new ten-foot-high wall, it was studded with heavy iron nails and had a forbidding appearance.

“That must be the house of the successful silk merchant,” Akitada said to Ayako. “Do you know the family well?”

“Not at all. He’s a very unpleasant man, and his servants are rude. We don’t talk to them. No one on this street does. As to his family, they never come out. It must be his wealth that has made him so suspicious of everyone.”

“Perhaps,” said Akitada, frowning.

Ayako cleared her throat. “Please come in. I... we did not expect you, but you are very welcome.” Turning to open the door, she added, “I’m afraid we have one guest already. The Rat stopped by.”

“The Rat’s here?” Tora asked, coming up. “That old crook conned me out of half my wages for wine and new clothes.”

Ayako looked surprised, then smiled. “That was very kind of you, Tora,” she said, touching his arm. Tora blinked.

They passed through the empty exercise hall into the living quarters. Higekuro sat in his usual place. Otomi knelt beside him among small containers of paint, her brush poised over a sheet of paper. When she saw Tora, her eyes lit up.