“We took such a person into custody a short while ago,” the lieutenant admitted. “For murdering a prostitute. He was arrested not far from the scene of a murder on the word of this eyewitness here.” He pointed to the fat man, who suddenly looked nervous.

“Well,” the fat man stammered, “it was getting dark, but I recognized the scar when I saw his face at the noodle stall. Perhaps these gentlemen are not aware of the violent character of their servant.”

“Can we see the prisoner?” Akitada asked the officer.

“Certainly. Right away, Your Excellency!” The lieutenant clapped his hands.

A few moments later Tora stood before them, chained, bloodied, bruised, and held firmly on either side by two brawny guards.

“Sir!” he cried, and took a step toward Akitada. The constables jerked him back by his chains.

Akitada said, “There has been some mistake. This is my servant. Set him free instantly.”

“But, Excellency,” protested the officer. “He has been positively identified by a respected citizen of this town. I’m afraid—”

Akitada glared. “I said, set him free.”

Tora was released and came to them, rubbing his wrists and muttering his thanks.

Akitada growled, “I hope you won’t make a habit of this, Tora. We’ve spent hours looking for you. If it hadn’t been for Seimei’s insistence, you might have rotted in this jail.” He saw Tora’s eyes moisten and relented. “What happened?”

“It serves me right, sir,” Tora said humbly. “I was hungry and cold and thought there was plenty of time, you being delayed at the post station. I stopped for some noodles in hot broth. I was just finishing them when all hell broke loose. The next thing I know, I’m on the ground with four constables beating and kicking me.”

Akitada turned to the lieutenant. “When did the crime take place?”

The fat man and the officer answered simultaneously, “Four hours ago.”

“How do you know?”

The lieutenant scowled at the witness who subsided into a dejected lump. “She was still a little warm when we got there, and that was almost two hours ago. Toyama here is her employer and he came straight to us after finding her dead.”

“But four hours ago it was not yet dark,” said Akitada, regarding the fat man suspiciously. In spite of his fatigue and against his best intentions, his interest was aroused. He wished he could see the body and question the dead woman’s friends. “When did this man see the murderer?”

The fat man spoke up nervously. “I saw him at the noodle stall on my way back with the constables. I knew right away he was the man. You see, the girls described Violet’s customer to me. The scar on his face, that’s what gave him away. The clothes ... as I said, we could be wrong about those. Anyway, when I saw him standing there, eating noodles as if he hadn’t a care in the world, I cried out and told the constables.”

“Ridiculous,” snapped Akitada. “If the murder happened four hours ago, my servant was still with me and my secretary several miles outside Fujisawa. I suggest you bring in your witnesses—and I don’t mean this man—and have them verify that this is not the man they saw. Then I expect my servant to be released with an apology. Tora, you will join us at our inn.”

“That will be the Phoenix Inn, sir. It is said to be the best,” Tora offered helpfully. But Akitada was reluctant to leave. He opened his mouth to offer advice to this obviously bumbling policeman, when Tora cried out and he heard a thud behind him. Turning, he saw Seimei’s frail body stretched out, unconscious, on the cold dirt floor.

* * * *

TWO

PEDDLERS, MONKS,

AND FUJIWARAS

F

or two days, Seimei was very ill with a feverish cold and a painful, tearing cough. Akitada sat by his bedside, filled with bitter self-recriminations for not having noticed his companion’s illness earlier, for having pushed the old man too hard on the journey, for having undertaken this assignment against the advice of his friends. He had frightening visions of losing Seimei here, in this strange town, far from the family the faithful soul had served so well all his life.

Tora undertook the nursing duties with patience and a gentleness no one would have expected from the rough tramp. At least in this respect, Akitada did not rue his impulse to save the young man from the brutality of the constables. Except for a reluctance to reveal his real identity, Tora spoke freely about his troubles. He was a farmer’s son who lost his family during the border wars and was pressed into military service. He deserted after beating up his lieutenant for raping a farm girl.

On the third day after his collapse, Seimei awoke from a deep sleep and asked for a drink. When Tora rushed up with a cup of wine, he pushed it aside and said peevishly, “You fool, don’t you know wine heats the blood? Are you trying to kill me? Tea. I need tea made from steeped juniper berries, mustard plant, and yarrow root. I suppose you expect me to get up and look for those things myself?”

“Sorry, old man,” Tora said meekly. “I’ll get your roots and berries if you tell me where to look for them.”

“Never mind, Tora.” Akitada put his hand on Seimei’s brow and found it dry and cool. “The local pharmacist will have all the ingredients. Take some money from my saddlebag and get what you need.” To Seimei he said, “I am very glad to see you better, old friend. We have been worried about you. Tora was tireless in caring for you, keeping you covered and putting cooling compresses on your head.”

Seimei looked a bit guilty. “Oh,” he mumbled. “How long have I been sick?”

“Two days and three nights.”

“Oh, no!” Seimei struggled to sit up. “Such a delay! We must go on immediately. I am certain I shall be able to get up after my herbal tea.”

Akitada pushed him back gently. “There is no hurry. I have need of your skills once we arrive, and you must be well rested and healthy. We shall stay here in this comfortable inn until you are completely well. Tora can look after you, and I shall use my time to find out what I can about the Kazusa matter and perhaps offer my help to the local police. They don’t seem at all competent to deal with that prostitute’s murder.”

They remained another two days in Fujisawa. Seimei improved greatly and took out his frustrations by nagging Tora. Akitada made several visits to the police station. To his regret he was given no information, nor were his questions about the murder answered. The lieutenant, scrupulously polite, assured him his servant had been cleared of all charges. The brothel keeper had quickly retracted his accusation when his girls denied ever laying eyes on Tora. His Excellency was free to travel on.