Ikeda took in the soldiers and then saw Akitada. “Your Excellency?” he said, feigning confusion. “What happened? I was on my way to investigate a murder in the brothel district when this silly woman came running down the street screaming that her mistress was being violated. I see there must be some mistake.”

“Your arrival is timely, Prefect,” said Akitada, hoping his voice did not give away his nervousness. “Here, too, a crime has been committed. I am charging Lady Tachibana and her nurse with the murder of the late Lord Tachibana.”

“Your Honor!” the nurse called out, trying to push past the soldiers to Ikeda. Two brawny fellows caught her around the middle and lifted her off the ground. Grinning widely, they held her as she kicked and cursed.

Holding her gown together with one hand, Lady Tachibana tripped across the room to slap her nurse soundly. “Be quiet!” she hissed. The woman closed her mouth and became limp. Her voice trembling with fury, the widow turned to the lieutenant and said, “Lord Sugawara told a pack of lies to escape a charge of raping a defenseless widow. My nurse is a witness to his depravity. Release her immediately!”

Akitada felt his control of the situation slipping. The pounding pain in his head and the soreness of his throat had been joined by more nausea. With an effort he turned to Ikeda. “I’m afraid the evidence of murder is incontrovertible. A vase just like the one over there was the murder weapon. Lord Tachibana fell there, bleeding into the carpet. The stain is still visible. Lady Tachibana, her nurse, and a male visitor carried the body through the garden to the studio and arranged it to suggest an accidental fall. Then one of them swept the path. One of the maids and another witness saw the male accomplice escape into the alley behind the house.”

Swallowing nervously, Ikeda looked around the room. The pause stretched as he weighed his options. “Who is this alleged accomplice?” the prefect finally asked.

“Lady Tachibana has refused to identify the man. She briefly tried to blame the murder on Captain Yukinari, but I happen to know that he was not in town the night of the murder.”

Ikeda stared at him, then cleared his throat. “Horrible,” he said. “Murder. Who would have thought? I don’t see how I could have missed ...”

Akitada’s stomach churned as nausea threatened again. He had to get away from here, get outside into the clean, fresh air. He glared at Ikeda. “Well, what are you waiting for now, man?” he snapped. “This crime is heinous. It touches the most sacred foundations of our nation.” He knew he sounded pompous but did not care. “Respect and duty to husband and master have been foully perverted by these women. Or don’t you agree?”

“Oh, yes. Absolutely!” gasped Ikeda, glancing nervously at the women. Lady Tachibana stared back at him. He cleared his throat again. “For a wife to raise her hand against her husband or for a servant to assist in the killing of her master is frightful indeed. The most severe penalty permitted by the law must be imposed.” He waved to his constables. “Arrest these women!”

The nurse began to jabber wildly.

“Gag her!” snapped Ikeda. With the help of Kenko’s soldiers, the constables subdued the maid. Lady Tachibana wept softly but offered no further resistance.

It was over.

Akitada stumbled up. He managed to nod to the lieutenant and Ikeda before walking quickly out of the door. The icy air hit his sweat-covered face like a burst of cold water. For a moment he stood swaying, breathing in deep gulps of it. Then the nausea rose again, and he staggered down into the garden to vomit.

He did not know how he managed to get back to their quarters, but he found them dark and empty. Dimly recalling that Seimei and Tora were still on their errand, he lay down on the floor as he was and closed his eyes.

Later he roused himself. He was burning with fever. Tearing off his clothing, all but the thin silk underrobe that clung to his wet skin, he crawled over to his desk to drink the remnants of cold tea from Seimei’s teapot. Then he collapsed into uneasy sleep again.

When he awoke a second time, he was shaking with cold. He tried to call for Seimei, but his voice was gone and his teeth chattered so badly, he gave up. The room was completely dark. He got up and attempted to reach the trunk that held the bedding but was unable to control the trembling of his arms and legs. Dizziness caused him to sit down abruptly, and he vomited up the tea. Though his throat still felt as if he had swallowed hot coals and his head pounded like a drum, the nausea was gone. Covering himself with his clothes, he lay back down.

Strange dreams and nightmares filled his sleep. Lady Tachibana hovered above him, eagle’s talons instead of hands ripping open his throat while her butterfly wings gently fanned his burning brow. Ayako appeared and disappeared in clouds of steam, beckoning to him, while he groped blindly and futilely for her. At one point the green shard in his fingers turned into a leaf and fluttered away to join a blue flower: asagao, he thought, the morning glory. It nodded in the moonlight, and the dew-drop on its petals turned to blood.

* * * *

FIFTEEN

THE BLOOD-RED CURTAIN

T

he stout waitress recognized Seimei immediately. Her pockmarked face split into a grin flashing crooked yellow teeth the minute she saw them at the door. “Master Seimei!” she shouted, plopping down a flask of wine so suddenly between two customers that most of it spilled. “Master Seimei!” She started toward them with flapping sleeves.

Seimei shot behind Tora’s broad back with a gasp. “We cannot stay, Tora,” he hissed. Someone in the room burst into laughter.

“Come in, come in,” the woman cried, reaching around Tora and pulling Seimei out by his arm. “It’s cold outside and I’ve a good seat for you by the fire. What will you eat? Some fine kisu fish stewed in wine and soy sauce? Salted mushrooms and pickled eggplant? We have boiled sweet potatoes I could mash for you with a little honey if you have a sweet tooth.”

“No, no,” gasped Seimei, pulling away from her grasp. “We are in a great hurry. Isn’t that right, Tora? No time at all. We just stopped to ask you a question.”

She bared her teeth again. “No need to ask.” Without letting go of his arm, she playfully poked Seimei’s bony chest with a stubby forefinger. “I’m free in another hour.” Seimei looked blank. She pursed her lips over her buckteeth in disappointment. “Well, come in and sit down at least,” she pleaded. “Just to rest your legs. You’re not as young as you used to be.” Looking at the grinning Tora, she added, “You should look after your uncle a little better. It’s hard on a man his age when he has no wife to see to his comfort.”

Seimei glared. “I am not at all tired,” he snapped. “And it is not polite to call people old.”