Professor Suketada looked away. “‘One cannot ask loneliness how and where it starts,’” he quoted, then glanced pointedly around his room. “You are a fortunate man, Sugawara. I had almost forgotten that there are people alive who do not find their lives a burden. No, I know of nothing that would have made her life harder to bear than mine.”

The darkness settled back on Akitada. Only hours ago, he had thought his own life an unbearable burden. He had done so for every hour of the past weeks and months since the news of Tamako’s death had reached him in that far-off place. He had railed against obligations which forced him to go on living, to return to an empty home, to take on the care of two young children and a house full of dependents. Was his grief so shallow that a mere tale of an unexplained suicide should have caused him to forget? No doubt, Lady Ogata could have had her own reasons for stepping off that trunk.

Slowly he got to his feet. “I’m sorry I troubled you, Professor. Please forgive the rude intrusion. Perhaps it is better not to ask too many questions. We may not like the answers.” He bowed. “Thank you for your candor.”

The professor nodded. His eyes had already moved to his dumpling.

His visitors left.

*

Outside again, Tora said eagerly, “What a weird fellow! If the rest are like him, we’ll find all sorts of mysteries here. What do you suppose would bring a learned man to live like beggar? The food he bought was rotten. I bet he begged for it.”

Akitada winced. “This is not a happy place. Far from having found a peaceful hermitage, the professor suffers hunger and spends his time contemplating his misfortune.”

“I think a man should keep active and go among other people. Sitting around in one small room, brooding over his misfortune, isn’t healthy. Maybe that’s what made the lady end her life.” He shot Akitada a sidelong glance.

“I thought you were convinced a crime had been committed. If you’ve changed your mind, perhaps we should return home now. I wouldn’t mind some peace and quiet in my room.”

Tora looked guilty. “Well, now that we’re here, let’s see what the others have to say first. Better get the job done properly or Secretary Nakatoshi will be disappointed.”

Akitada sighed, but he turned to look across the gardens. Seeing part of a tiled roof beyond the dense mass of trees, he said, “If I’m not mistaken that’s the lake pavilion over there. Let’s have a look at Lady Ogata’s quarters.”

5

The Student

The pavilion, for all its distance from the main house and its location in an untamed jungle of plants and vines, was a far more elegant abode than the professor’s room off one of the galleries. Akitada wondered what this might suggest for Lady Ogata’s importance or her closeness to the abbot. Tasuku was his own age, and the lady had been in her twenties. It was an age well past the time when women were courted, but she was younger than Tasuku. She could well have been his lover, for apparently she had been beautiful.

And what better place to stash away a lover than this hidden pavilion on his own estate? The abbot could visit any time he wished without exciting comment, yet hardly anyone would know about the woman waiting for him here.

Tora voiced the same thought. “Nice place for an occasional cuddle,” he said, grinning.

They climbed the steps to the door. Perhaps the interior would offer more clues to the lady’s character and her relationship to the saintly abbot.

When Akitada pushed open the door, he thought he heard a sound inside, but the room was empty when he stepped inside, Tora at his heels.

“She didn’t have much,” Tora commented, looking around at the bare floor and the two clothes chests pushed against one wall. There was also an empty clothes rack and a small bare writing desk.

Akitada said nothing. Tamako had owned four trunks for her clothing, one for each season of the year, and her pavilion had contained many more things for her comfort. Thick tatami mats had covered her floor, and there were cushions to sit on. For her enjoyment, she had had several finely painted screens, book cases filled with books, writing desks and utensils, scrolls of paintings and all the more useful items such as candle sticks, braziers both for heating the room and for heating water for tea, water containers, mirrors and cosmetics boxes and so forth. All of these comforts were lacking here. He wondered how Lady Ogata had eaten and where her meals had come from. Had she gone out like the professor to buy a small prepared meal from a stand or a peddler? Who had supported her? The abbot? Where were her servants? Had there been at least a maid?

Tora went to fling open the shutters and let in more light. The dark floor was badly scuffed and dusty. Both Akitada and Tora raised their eyes to the beams overhead.

“The police report said she’d climbed on one of the trunks to reach the rafter,” Tora said. “I guess someone put it back.”

The floor was scratched and showed where the trunk on the left had been dragged to the center of the room and then back again. Akitada eyed the scratches, then walked across to inspect the trunk. He started back with a cry when a tall figure suddenly rose from behind it and confronted them.

“What are you doing here?” demanded a pale-faced youth with glaring eyes. “This is private property. You have no permission to be here. Get out! Get out this instant!” His voice rose hysterically on the last words.

Akitada caught his breath. “And you? What is your business here?” he demanded. “I believe you were hiding.”

Tora moved to block the young man’s escape.

Cornered, the youngster looked from one to the other and tried to bluster. “I live here. And I don’t know you, so you’ve no right to be here.”

Akitada flung open the lid of the trunk. It was filled with clothes. He held up a red Chinese jacket embroidered with butterflies. “And on what occasion do you wear this?” he asked.

Tora guffawed and mimed fanning himself. “He must be one of those man-women,” he said in a high voice, “who dress up in girly finery in private.”

The student’s face flushed with fury, and he went for Tora, fists flying. Tora stopped him by catching one hand and twisting his arm. With a choking cry, the student fell to one knee.

“Let him go, Tora.” Akitada folded the jacket carefully and replaced it, closing the lid of the trunk. “You must be the student Takechi Akushiro. My name is Sugawara. This is Tora, my retainer. We are here to look into Lady Ogata’s sudden death. I know these are her quarters and her clothes.”

The student rose and rubbed his wrist. He was suddenly subdued and looked frightened. “I’ve heard of you,” he said. “You’re the one who investigates crimes. She … she took her own life.” His voice shook over the last words.

Akitada had taken note of the young man’s red-rimmed eyes and guessed that there had been a romantic attachment. The question was how far this had gone. Had it been merely a young man’s infatuation with an older woman or had they been lovers? He said, “I take it you live in the mansion at the invitation of Abbot Genshin, just like the others?”

The student nodded without lifting his eyes.

“How did this come about?”

Takechi Akushiro glanced at him. “How do you mean? I needed a place to stay. He offered.”

“But why? Are you paying for your room?”

“No.” A slow flush crept up the student’s neck. “It was a kindness,” he said. “My parents were too poor to send me to the university. He convinced them to let me come. He also pays my fees and for my books, and paper and ink. I work evenings and earn the money for my food.”

“Good for you,” Akitada said. “And how are your studies coming along?”

“All right.” Akushiro avoided Akitada’s eyes and fidgeted.