“Very nicely” Motosuke rubbed his hands. “And now you will be able to attend after all.” He studied Akitada’s face anxiously. “You do think you might be well enough by day after tomorrow, don’t you?”

“Day after tomorrow?”

“Have you forgotten the date? While you were lying here these past three days, Akinobu, Yukinari, and I have been slaving like mules to get all the arrangements worked out.” He smiled. “If I do say it myself, I’m a brilliant organizer. I cannot wait for you to hear the details.”

“I am very sorry. I had forgotten all about that.”

“No wonder. You were hallucinating most of the time. We took turns watching and wiping your brow.”

“I am very grateful.”

Motosuke’s face became serious. “Did Seimei tell you that the Tachibana woman and her nurse are both dead?”

“What?”

Motosuke nodded. “Double suicide in jail.”

“I don’t believe it,” cried Akitada. “Ikeda must have killed them...and it’s my fault.”

“No. Ikeda’s gone, and from what we could make out, he left before they died.”

Akitada’s head spun. He realized now the grave mistake he had made when he had allowed Ikeda to take the women to his jail. The fact that he had already felt ill at the time was no excuse for such carelessness. The image of the butterfly caught in the snow flashed again through his mind. It had been prophetic. He grimaced. “Do you know any details?”

“I have all the details because I sent Akinobu over to investigate. It happened two nights ago. Apparently, Ikeda left the night before, not long after you had the women arrested. There was a message on his desk that he had been called away to a case out of town. So far he has not returned, and I have arranged for Akinobu to take over his duties temporarily. Anyway, Lady Tachibana demanded to speak to Ikeda, and when the head clerk informed her that Ikeda had left town, she became frantic and sent for Joto.”

“Naturally,” groaned Akitada, clenching his fists. “What a fool I have been.”

Motosuke gave him a questioning look. When Akitada did not explain, he continued, “Well, the head clerk assumed that she wanted spiritual comfort in view of the charges against her and he allowed the visit. Joto did not come himself, but he sent his deacon Kukai and two other monks the same evening. According to the guards, they prayed with her and then left. She settled down quietly for the night. In the morning, the warden found her hanging from a beam. She had taken off one of her silk gowns, twisted it, and used it for a rope. When they checked on the nurse in the next cell, the older woman had done the same, using her sash.”

“They killed them,” Akitada said. “The women knew too much.”

Motosuke shook his head. “I don’t think so. But whatever happened, it saves us unpleasantness.”

It sounded callous, but Akitada knew that women who committed adultery and then killed their husbands could not hope for mercy. They were made to suffer harsh and public torture, as did servants who raised their hands against a master. Public morality demanded it. But this case involved Lady Tachibana. Stripping this beautiful child in open court and flaying the skin off her back to assure a speedy confession would shock even the most callous and prurient crowd. From Motosuke’s point of view, Lady Tachibana and her nurse in court presented a problem. Being dead, they satisfied the demands of justice. And chances were that they had themselves sought an easier end. Yet Akitada did not share Motosuke’s relief.

“This is my fault,” he said again. “When she insisted on sending for him, I should have suspected that it was Ikeda who was her lover.”

“Ikeda? Are you sure?” Motosuke looked shocked.

“It fits. When I charged her with her husband’s murder, Ikeda surprised me by taking my side, even though she had accused me of trying to rape her. He ordered both women arrested, and she meekly allowed herself to be taken away to the prefectural jail. She would not have done so if she had not expected Ikeda to get her out.” Looking at Motosuke, Akitada said, “And now everything points to both of them having been Joto’s accomplices. That is why she sent for the abbot when Ikeda decided to flee. I should have listened to Tora.”

As if on cue, Tora strolled in. Unabashed by the presence of the governor, he seated himself and, recalling his manners belatedly, bowed to Motosuke, saying, “Hope to see you well, sir.” To Akitada he said, “Thank the gods, you’re better! Did Seimei tell you about Jasmin?”

“Yes, but there is no need for concern,” Akitada said. “I know who killed Hidesato’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah. That bastard Scarface. He’s beaten the poor thing all along. This time he just decided to butcher her.”

Akitada shook his head. Seeing Tora’s expression, he said, “Come on, Tora, surely you can work it out. Think of all the blood! It was you who told us about the bloodthirsty cretin with the knife.”

Tora’s eyes widened. “Yushi!” he breathed.

“Yushi. Though Scarface may well have had something to do with it.” Akitada looked at the governor. “It seems a gang of three—a scarred man everyone calls Scarface, a giant by the name of Yushi, and a third man ...”

“Jubei,” Tora supplied.

“... and Jubei—has been taking protection money from small merchants in the market and from prostitutes. Tora had them arrested, but Ikeda let them go. I suppose Akinobu will have to be told. Perhaps this time we can put the whole gang away for good.”

Motosuke rose, shaking his head. “Such shocking news all around. Horrible,” he said. “You must tell me all about it some other time. I had better go talk to Akinobu about the murder. You need a little more rest, elder brother. I’ll return later to discuss the festival.”

When Motosuke had left, Akitada turned on his side and propped himself on an elbow. He smiled at Tora. “My compliments. It seems you were absolutely right about Ikeda and Joto being accomplices.”

Tora tried to look modest and failed.

“And how is Hidesato getting along with Higekuro and the girls?”

Tora’s face lengthened. He looked away. “Fine.”

“Did you tell them about my illness?”

“Yes. They sent best wishes for your recovery.”

Taken aback by such indifference, Akitada tried again. “What did Ayako say?”

Tora poked at the incense burner, rolling it about on the desk. “Oh, the same,” he said, scowling. “They are all very busy, what with a houseguest and everything.”

Akitada thought he knew the cause of his depression. “Otomi is a very pretty girl,” he said gently. “It’s only natural that Hidesato should think so, too.”