Tora looked around the bare room and bit his lip. “Her landlady said you had a fight with Jasmin. Did you tell her she was better off dead?”

“So that old bat was snooping again. Well, you know how women are. Jasmin was hard to convince. I guess I lost my temper a bit. But she came around in the end.”

Tora looked down. “Hidesato, Jasmin’s not coming.”

Hidesato’s grin faded. “You’re joking and it’s not funny. It is a joke ... isn’t it?”

Tora shook his head without looking up. Hidesato’s eyes went to Seimei, who began to inch out the door.

“What happened?”

Tora said, “I’m sorry, Hito. I wish I didn’t have to tell you.”

Hidesato turned pale. “That bastard hurt her again.”

“She’s dead, Hito.”

“She’s dead? Jasmin’s dead? It can’t be. I just saw her a couple of hours ago.”

“Someone got to her, cut her up, and left,” said Tora. “The landlady thinks it was you.”

Hidesato was on his feet. “Cut her up? I’ve got to go to her. Maybe she’s just hurt.”

Tora clasped his arm. “No. I saw her.”

With a wild look, Hidesato shook him off and made for the door. Tora tackled him, and they both fell to the floor. “She’s dead, Hidesato!” roared Tora. “You can’t go back there. They’ve called for the prefect and you’ll be arrested!”

The fight went out of Hidesato abruptly. He rolled onto his stomach and sobbed, pounding the floor with his fists.

They watched him in silence. Finally Tora put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You can’t stay here. The old bat has this address. I’m taking you to Higekuro’s for a few days till we get this cleared up. You remember my mentioning the crippled wrestler?”

Hidesato sat up. He looked dazed, his face wet with tears.

“Put a bundle together,” urged Tora.

Hidesato shook his head. “Why bother? Just let them arrest me. Nothing I touch ever turns out right. You’ll just get yourself and your friend in trouble.”

“Shut up and move!” snapped Tora. Hidesato stumbled up and looked vacantly around the room. Tora cursed, kicked the trunk open, found a large kerchief, and started tossing clothes into it. When he had enough, he knotted everything into a bundle and handed it to Hidesato. “Go take a look outside, Seimei,” he said, “and call if the street’s clear.”

Seimei rushed to obey. It was quite dark by now, but the street was empty. He gave the signal that all was safe.

Tora stopped on the way to buy two cheap paper lanterns from a vendor near the market before heading north. Between the blind walls of tenements and private homes, they passed side streets that opened like black tunnels into the unknown. At one of these they turned off toward Higekuro’s neighborhood. None of them felt like talking.

When they reached the wrestling school, Hidesato stopped. “I’ll kill the bastard, if it’s the last thing I do!”

Tora said quickly, “No, brother! That’s not the way. My master and I, we’ll find who did this. Why pay with your life for his?”

After a moment Hidesato nodded and allowed himself to be led inside.

To Seimei’s relief they did not stay after the introductions and explanations. He met the crippled wrestler and his daughters and thought it was as strange a household as he had ever seen and well suited to accommodate a fugitive like Hidesato. As for himself, he wanted nothing so much as to be in the familiar surroundings of their tribunal quarters.

But when they reached the tribunal, Tora walked right past it. Seimei cried out, “Where are you going? We’re home.”

“I’m going to talk to that prefect.”

“The prefect? Not now, Tora. I’m worried about the master. Or at least...couldn’t you go without me?”

Tora was immovable. “No,” he said. “You’re coming with me. Your proper robe and hat will get us past the constables and clerks.”

“Surely the prefect won’t be back yet.” Tora did not answer, and Seimei gave in, muttering merely, “So now you see how important a person’s clothes are.”

But the clerks and constables at the prefecture were too busy to be impressed by Seimei’s appearance. They were running about, shuffling Seimei and Tora from one brusque clerk to another. Finally a thin and tired-looking young man said, “It’s been such a night! First a maniac loose in the prostitution quarter, then the Tachibana case. I’m afraid the prefect will not be back for a while. Can I help?”

Painstakingly, Tora told the story of his encounter with Scarface and his thugs, then mentioned the Rat’s story about Jasmin being beaten by Scarface. The young clerk’s eyes narrowed as he listened. He said, “That does sound like very important information. You were quite right to come here immediately. If you will sit down over there, I’ll see to it that His Honor is informed as soon as he returns.”

Seimei and Tora sat. And sat. And finally fell to dozing. Some time much later the thin young clerk came and shook Seimei’s shoulder. “The prefect has retired for the night,” he said, looking apologetic. “He will want to talk to both of you, but I thought you might like to go home for a few hours’ sleep and come back in the morning.”

Tora staggered up. “In the name of a thousand demons...” he started furiously. The young clerk backed away and two drowsy constables came wide awake, reaching for their chains.

“No, Tora!” said Seimei. “Remember what you told Hidesato. The master will take care of it.”

Muttering curses against all lazy, crooked officials, Tora submitted.

Their quarters were dark when they got back. Seimei kicked off his shoes and opened the door quietly, shading his lantern. Tora was still taking off his boots when he heard Seimei cry out.

“The master! Quick, Tora! Something is wrong with the master.”

* * * *

SIXTEEN

AWAKENING

A

kitada was ill for three days. During this interval he was watched with the greatest anxiety by Seimei, Tora, and Motosuke. Servants and physicians came and went. The prognosis went from desperate to hopeful, and still the three watchers persisted, leaving only for meals or urgent business.

When Akitada finally came back to full awareness of himself and his surroundings, he happened to be alone. Sunlight filtered through the wooden lattices and fell in broad rectangles across his chest and bedding. Faint, pleasant traces of incense lurked in the air and dust motes danced in the sunlight.