“Don’t worry. It will take them a while to clear the blind girl. After that there is Nakamura’s family. He was very wealthy. And perhaps also his partner. I came here to understand how they’ve been operating. The list is long. They’ve driven many people to the point of desperation.” He glanced at the stack of finished pages. “Were you home all day?”

“Yes!” husband and wife called out together.

“You didn’t by chance visit the Daikoku-yu?”

“A bathhouse? I can’t afford such luxuries,” the schoolmaster said with a snort.

“Good. One last question: do you know of anyone who might have murdered Nakamura?”

The schoolmaster shook his head.

Saburo rose, bowed to both of them, and left.

The rain still fell, casting the city into a gloomy grayness that matched Saburo’s mood. The Kajiwara story depressed him. The poor family needed help Saburo could not provide. He decided to speak to his master. Then it struck him that the murder case itself was just the sort of thing to lure his lordship from his self-imposed house arrest.

Greatly cheered, he hurried home.

11

Fire in a Jar

Akiko was not a woman to remain soft-hearted for long. Once they had reached Akitada’s study, she wasted no time speaking her mind.

“You have worried us long enough,” she said. “It’s time you returned to your duties. Sitting for hours in a dark room, as Tora and Hanae assure me you have been doing, does no one any good, least of all your children and your people who depend on you. Over the last few years, you have taken on responsibilities beyond those of your own family. Soon there will be many more mouths to feed. Genba’s wife is expecting.”

Akitada covered his face with his hands as if he could thus stop the onslaught of accusation and reproof. “I only just noticed,” he muttered. “They didn’t tell me.”

“They’re afraid to. They all walk about on tiptoes so they won’t disturb you.”

Akitada lowered his hands. “Not quite.” He decided to distract Akiko from the issue of his not having returned to work yet. “It seems Kobe, Nakatoshi, and Tora have plotted together to get me involved in the investigation of a strange death. Do you recall my former friend Tasuku?”

Her eyes flashed with interest. “The handsome Tasuku? He’s the very splendid abbot of Daiun-ji now, did you know?”

“Yes. Well, it seems a beautiful and mysterious woman has hanged herself in his mansion.”

“No!” Eyes round with delighted shock, Akiko sank down on a cushion. “Tell me! I want to know all. A mysterious woman, you say? Just the sort of thing to stimulate the mind.”

Akitada looked at her in dismay. He had only meant to stop the flood of recriminations. Instead he had given her exactly what would make her an intolerable nuisance. She would not rest now until she was part of the investigation, and that meant she would be here every day until the case was solved.

“It’s probably nothing,” he said weakly. “The police have investigated and confirmed the death as suicide. But … “ He thought of the two sweets on her shelf.

“So you suspect murder?” Akiko’s eyes glittered. “What’s the lady’s name?”

“Her name is Ogata. It may be an assumed name.”

“Ogata? Hmm. A good family, but not well known. Now where have I met someone by that name?” Akiko was off on the trail.

Akitada sighed. “Well, perhaps it will come to you later,” he said, hoping it would encourage her to leave and continue her research from her home.

But his sister was not so easily distracted. “Yes,” she said. “It can wait. Right now I want to know everything you know. Did you speak to Abbot Genshin? What does he say?”

“I have not spoken to him,” Akitada said quickly. “We did not part on very friendly terms years ago, and I haven’t seen him since.”

“Ah, yes. I recall you were always critical of him.” Akiko giggled. “You can be very judgmental in matters of romance, dear brother. You didn’t approve of the man because he was very good-looking and adored by many women.”

Akitada frowned. “His offense was rather more serious than flirtations.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You don’t say. What exactly did he do?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

She pouted. “Oh, very well, but you won’t get off so easily about this case. You think the evil abbot murdered the Ogata woman, right?”

“Don’t call him an evil abbot, and I don’t think anything of the sort. Really, Akiko, you jump to conclusions much too fast to make a good investigator.”

Her eyes shone. “Then you’ll let me help?”

He sighed. “Very well, but you must promise to be discreet. We can’t afford to offend the abbot. He seems to be a favorite with the court.”

“I promise. Not a whisper of his secret shall pass my lips.”

Akitada’s lip twitched. “That shouldn’t be hard, since you don’t know what it is.”

She smiled. “I don’t know it yet. Well, what can I do? I mean besides finding out what I can about this Ogata person?”

“That will be quite enough for the moment. She was known as Lady Ogata, so is most likely a member of one of the good families. She was in her mid-twenties, and is said to have been very beautiful.”

“At that age? Who said so?”

His sister was a shrewd observer of female looks.

“My information comes from a middle-aged caretaker, a young student, and an elderly professor. Perhaps they overlooked her age.”

He had joked, but she took him seriously.

“Yes. And all are male. Women have sharper eyes. Who’s the professor?”

“His name is Suketada. He is retired. But there is also a painter. Surely he knows beauty when he sees it.”

“They all sound dreary. And the student, I take it, is at that awkward age when his face is covered with spots?”

It was true, but Akitada said, “You women are very hard on men. He’s just an ordinary-looking youngster.”

“Very well.” She got to her feet. “I’ll see what I can do. Send for me if there’s any new information.” She eyed him a moment. “You look better. Good. I’m glad I took you out of that dreadful state of melancholy. Mind you take care of business.”

She swept to his side to give him a quick hug, and was gone.

Akitada sighed. He would hardly have any peace from now on. He looked about the dim room and at the dust on his desk. On an impulse he opened a lacquer box that held writing paper. Inside, hidden under blank pages, lay his letter of resignation from his position at the ministry. His post as governor of Chikuzen province he had resigned before leaving Kyushu. Presumably, the news had been transmitted to the government here. But he felt very ill at ease about this. The act of resigning and leaving his post without permission should long since have brought him his due punishment in the form of being called in to account, but nothing whatsoever had happened. The resignation from the ministry was presumably pointless, because he would be dismissed anyway. Only his friendship with the minister, Fujiwara Kaneie, had made him write out the formal letter. He had not sent it. Their friendship really required that he hand-deliver it.

Here he was, ignoring his responsibilities in every conceivable fashion. Dabbling in the peculiar activities of someone from his past was hardly what was required. He sighed again. He would go to see Kaneie and apologize.

He had barely come to this decision when there was a scratching at the door, and Saburo put his head in. “Do I disturb you, sir?” he asked, looking at him anxiously.

“No.” Akitada added ungraciously, “It seems everyone else has been to see me today.”

Saburo came in hesitantly and bowed. “It’s a private matter, sir. I can go away again.”

More responsibilities. Come to think of it, Tora had mentioned that Saburo had found a girlfriend. Perhaps he, too, had decided to start a family. Akitada glanced despairingly at his resignation letter and closed the box.