There were some stares at Saburo’s lean, scarred body, but they seemed more impressed with the muscular Tora, who also sported mementos from his military career and other violent encounters. The three bathers, most likely tradesmen, offered timid nods. A brief silence fell.

Tora broke it first. “There was a nasty murder here, we hear,” he offered.

They nodded eagerly. The fat man said, “A shampoo girl cut a fellow’s throat. Can you imagine?” He rolled his eyes.

“Intentionally?” Saburo asked.

They looked at each other. The bearded man snorted. “Maybe. She’s a hot number for all that she’s blind. The men like to make passes at her. It’s a kind of game.” He chuckled. “She gets pretty sharp, I can tell you.”

Saburo eyed him with a frown. “That doesn’t mean she’d kill someone.”

The man grinned and cocked his head. “Who knows what women may do? It’s easy enough to say the knife slipped.”

The other two nodded wisely.

“Were you here when it happened?” Saburo asked suspiciously.

Two shook their heads, but the third, an elderly man, nodded. “I was. I could hear the screaming all the way in here,” he said. “Everybody jumped out and ran to see what happened, They were stark naked and dripping water all over. There was a crowd in front of the room where it happened. I couldn’t get close, but they say there was blood everywhere. The girl was covered in it.”

“I say that proves she did it, right?” The fat man said..

The old man disagreed, “She says she found him dead but didn’t know what happened. She tried to help him. That’s how she got his blood on her clothes. It could have happened that way. She’s blind after all.”

The other two laughed at this suggestion.

Saburo asked the elderly man, “Did you see anyone you recognized in the crowd?”

“Several of the regulars. Mind you, I don’t know their names. I thought I saw one of the courtesans, though.” He chuckled and waggled his gray eyebrows at his companions. “I was wishing she’d jumped out of the bath wearing nothing but water. No such luck! She was in full costume, scarlet silk and dark green brocade. Probably drumming up custom for her house. The working girls come here a lot.”

“She sounds like a choja,” said one of the others. “Don’t they normally send someone else to do that?”

“Who knows? She was something, though. I was trying to get quite close.”

Saburo wanted to get the subject back to the murder. “A friend of mine was here that day. His name’s Matsuoka. Did you see him?”

The elderly man shook his head. “Don’t know him.”

“What about Harada or Kato?”

“Nope. Wait a minute, I did see a couple of regulars earlier. Ozaki was just leaving. He’s a tailor and always comes early to get back to his shop for opening time. And the man who owns the paper shop was here. I don’t know his name.” He frowned. “That reminds me. I’ve got to get to work.”

Not surprisingly, the other two also discovered they had places to be and scrambled out. The steaming vat was temporarily left to Tora and Saburo.

“So,” said Saburo with satisfaction, “we have two names. Both Matsuoka and Ozaki are on the list of debtors, and they were here that morning.”

Tora climbed out. “It’s something,” he said, toweling himself dry. “But it could still be anybody. Or at least anybody who was here. It needn’t be a regular customer either, just someone who owed Nakamura money.”

Saburo joined him. “In that case, we’re nowhere. So much for taking a bath we don’t need,” he said angrily. “I thought you’d be better at this. You used to want to be like the master. And now that you have a murder to work on, you lose interest.”

Tora headed for the dressing area. “You’re too impatient, Saburo. In a case like this, little bits of information come your way gradually. In the end you just put them all together. If you rush, you end up making bad mistakes.” He stepped into his trousers and added, “Like the police did when they arrested Sachi.”

“It’s not like you to advise patience,” Saburo grumbled. He hurried into his clothes.

“Even I can see that we cannot check out all these people.” Tora waved the list at Saburo. “That’s for the police to do. We must find another way.”

They were walking out of the bathhouse when Jinzaemon hurried up, smiling broadly.

Saburo muttered, “Don’t give that bastard any more money. We don’t have any to spare.”

Jinzaemon bowed. “A pleasant bath, gentlemen? I pride myself on having the roomiest tubs and the hottest water. And it’s always clean. Kamo river water from above the shrine, where it comes from the sacred mountains.”

“It was all right,” Tora remarked. “We had a chat with some of your customers.”

Jinzaemon looked anxious. “You didn’t trouble them, I hope?”

“Oh, no. They wanted to talk about the murder. That’s what brought them here. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you arranged the crime yourself to drum up some business.”

“Don’t make jokes like that!” cried Jinzaemon.

“Well, the police will be around. If I were you, I’d watch my step. From what I’ve seen and learned here, you act as a pimp, selling the favors of the neighborhood whores and forcing decent women to service your customers on the premises.”

The bathhouse owner paled. “That’s a lie!”

“No, it isn’t. Sachi’s talking to the police! And furthermore, you allow swindlers like Nakamura to come here to sell their services to poor people. Did he pay you for pointing out clients? Maybe you quarreled over the arrangement? Yes, you’d better watch it, Jinzaemon. The truth will out!” With that, he and Saburo left to a volley of curses from the owner.

Outside, the icy wind made short work of the pleasant warmth left by the bath.

15

In Disgrace

The Office of Central Affairs, or Nakatsukasa-sho, was not far from the Justice Ministry, but Akitada’s feet became heavy as he made his way there. The Nakatsukasa-sho was the most powerful ministry of the government, but its enclosure was deceptively modest. Akitada passed under a simple gate into a small graveled courtyard. Nobody stopped him. A few clerks walked quickly between halls, and two senior officials stood chatting. He climbed the steps to the main hall, his feet like lead. Inside the building, a servant finally approached and asked his business.

“My name is Sugawara. I came to make my report. Will you please advise His Excellency’s secretary?”

The servant bowed and disappeared. Akitada stood, gathering his courage. Within the next half hour he might be ruined. Actually, he might be ruined already and merely have come to get confirmation of the fact. He thought what he would do in that case and came up with nothing.

A clerk in a black silk robe appeared. He bowed. “May I confirm that you are Lord Sugawara Akitada, governor of Chikuzen province?”

“I resigned that post, but yes.”

The clerk’s brows shot up. “Resigned?” he asked. But he corrected himself quickly. “If you will please follow me.”

So the news of his resignation had not reached the Office of Central Affairs. This would be awkward. Akitada’s heart started to beat unpleasantly fast. He tried to calm himself by breathing deeply as he followed the clerk.

He was led into a large office, furnished plainly with a desk and some cushions, as well as the customary assortment of books on a stand. Three men stood in its center, looking curiously at him. He saw by the rank ribbons on their hats that all three outranked him by several steps, and one held the lesser third rank. He did not know any of them but bowed deeply.

The oldest man, gray-haired and smooth-shaven, was the highest ranking official. He had tired eyes that studied Akitada morosely as if he wondered who had saddled him with this new nuisance.