“The murderer must have done that. He wanted everyone to think she hanged herself.”

“Yes, but he must have been very quick. When the children found her, there was no trunk there. The boy stood right below her and gave her feet a push to see if she could fly. They ran to get the caretaker and he sent for the constables. Hmm! Now I wonder.”

“What?”

“The caretaker didn’t say anything about the trunk.” Akitada frowned. What was his name again? Koshiro. A peculiar fellow. He looked more like a ruffian than a caretaker.”

“You think he killed her?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps. He was strong enough.” Akitada got to his feet, grimacing a little as his back protested. “I must go back. I haven’t asked the right questions. All of them are suspects, with the possible exception of the nun who is too small and frail to pull Lady Sadako’s body up by that rope.”

Lady Akiko got to her feet also. “Shall we go now?”

Akitada shook his head “I cannot walk that far.”

“We’ll go by palanquin,” said his sister with an airy wave. “You’ll do very well, sitting down, and I shall be with you.”

“No, Akiko. You cannot go. It’s not suitable and may be dangerous.” He thought of the disgusting habits of the professor and the odd figure of the artist.

“Nonsense. I’m a married woman. I can go anywhere I please.”

Akitada chuckled. “Not quite. I’ll take Tora and report to you. How’s that?”

“No!” Akiko practically wailed. “You can’t do this to me after all I’ve done. It isn’t fair.”

And since she was right, she got her way. Tora was summoned, the plan explained to him, and a short time later, all three were on their way to the Takashina mansion, Akitada and his sister in separate palanquins, and Tora, who had armed himself, striding along beside them.

As on his last visit, the gates stood open and the mansion lay silent and apparently empty under cloudy skies. The storm had made way for colder weather, and a sharp wind blew leaves across the gravel as Tora helped Akitada and Lady Akiko from their conveyances and told the bearers to wait in the courtyard.

They were again on their own. The main house lay in front of them, but Akitada turned toward the stables and the caretaker’s quarters just beyond. To his satisfaction, he saw smoke coming from the opening in Koshiro’s roof.

Akiko had been looking around with great curiosity. “You’d think,” she said, “the abbot would let a family of some substance live here. He could collect rent or favors that way and the property would be taken care of. It’s eerie, seeing it empty like this.”

“The abbot practices charity, not greed,” Akitada said without much conviction. “The caretaker appears to be home. I bet we’ll get better answers from him this time.”

Tora snorted. “There’s something sly about him. If he’s our killer, he won’t come clean.”

Koshiro had seen them coming and met them at the door. He was pale as he looked from Akitada to Tora and then to Akiko. He looked at her the longest.

“As you see,” said Akitada, “we are back. The lady is my sister who takes a great interest in Lady Ogata’s fate.”

Koshiro swallowed, stepping aside to let them enter. Inside, the painter sat in front of a go board. They had interrupted a game. The painter looked pleased to see them and bowed.

“I still don’t know anything,” Koshiro said. “I’ve told you and the police everything.”

“Not quite,” said Akitada with a nod to the painter. He led his sister to a cushion, then seated himself. Tora leaned against the door and glowered.

Koshiro hesitated, then sat down beside Yoshizane. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“You misled us and the police,” Akitada said. “That was very foolish. It makes you look guilty.”

Koshiro yelped, “Guilty?”

Tora growled, “Is your name really Koshiro?”

“That’s the name I’m known by.”

“Maybe now, but I’ll bet you had a different one before you came here. The police will become very interested when we tell them about you.”

Koshiro’s eyes went to the door. Tora put his hand to his sword.

“But I haven’t done anything,” the caretaker protested.

Akitada said, “You rearranged Lady Ogata’s room so the police would think she had committed suicide. Did you kill her?”

The caretaker turned absolutely white and looked about him in desperation.

The painter had listened with great interest and asked, “Did you, Koshiro? Shame on you! Whatever had she done to you?”

“Nothing. It’s a lie, or a mistake. You know me, Yoshizane. I worshipped her.”

The painter giggled. “You and the student, and maybe all of us. But you and the student are crazy.”

Koshiro stared at Akitada with a hopeless expression. He said, “You’re right. I did push the trunk under her, but I didn’t kill her. I would never have hurt her. She was good, truly good. She made me feel decent.”

Akitada watched him. “Tell us about it.”

“I was afraid the police would find out about me. Years ago I did something I’m ashamed of and was sent to prison. I was building a road with other prisoners, and one day I ran away. I begged for food at temples and monasteries. One day, something happened to me at a temple. I saw a vision of the goddess Kannon. When the monks found me crying and praying, they asked what was the matter. They took me to their abbot and I confessed everything. When I was done, he said the goddess had forgiven me. He said he needed someone to look after this mansion and gave me this job. When he brought the lady to live here, I saw she was very kind and beautiful. She was an incarnation of Kannon to me. I would never have hurt her. That cursed day when the children came to fetch me, and I saw what had happened, I fell to my knees and prayed. That’s when I saw the trunk and knew what I had to do. And that’s what I did, and it’s all I did.”

Silence fell.

The painter broke it first. “But,” he said, “that means someone else killed her.”

Akitada nodded. “Yes, someone did kill her.”

Koshiro flung himself down before Akitada, knocking the go board aside and scattering the stones. “I swear I’m innocent. I don’t know what happened.”

Akitada sighed and got to his feet, extending a hand to Lady Akiko. “Come,” he said. “There’s nothing more for us here. We must find the killer elsewhere.”

Koshiro wailed, “What will happen to me?”

“If you’re innocent, nothing. But if you have lied or kept anything hidden again, I’ll see to it that the law falls upon you with special heaviness.”

Outside again, he turned to his sister. “Be warned by his story. These people have led rough lives. If we confront the murderer, he may become violent.”

She laughed. “I look forward to it. Life gets pretty dull when you see nobody but people of your own kind. And I’m not at all the refined creature you take me for.”

She was probably right about that.

They walked back to the main house and entered the wing occupied by Genshin’s guests.

Hearing their steps, the professor opened his door and looked out into the corridor. He was bleary-eyed and stank of wine. His eyes moved from Akitada and Tora to Lady Akiko and widened. “Dear me,” he said. “Do my eyes deceive me or is this a celestial being?”

“You may remember me,” Akitada said coldly. “The lady is my sister. She takes an interest in Lady Ogata’s story. Akiko, this is Professor Suketada.”

The professor blinked. “I hardly dare offer my hospitality,” he said, bowing, “but I’m a poor man and perhaps, in her kindness, her ladyship may overlook the shortcomings of my current abode.”

He stepped aside. Akiko looked at the cluttered room, wrinkled her nose, and decided to stand near the doors to the veranda.

“We needn’t trouble you long,” Akitada said. “What do you know about the caretaker?”

“He’s as lazy as they come. Caretaker? He only takes care of himself.”