‘What was that all about, sir?’

‘Superintendent Kobe has accused me of… dishonorable behavior.’

Tora sucked in a breath, then muttered a curse.

Seimei came up. ‘It is said that we must inquire seven times before we doubt a friend. Surely there was a misunderstanding.’

‘No misunderstanding.’ Akitada turned and looked at them bleakly. ‘Tora, your report has come to nothing. Kobe says the boys were not involved in the fire.’

‘What about the one that stole my gold?’ Tora clenched his fists. ‘Did he think I lied?’

‘Forget it, Tora. Take the horse and ride to the farm to get Genba and the dog. I’ll give you money for old Matsue so he can pay the workers and buy more seed rice.’

Tora and Seimei looked at each other, then Tora left while Seimei remained to help count out coins and enter the new expenses in the account book. Neither Akitada nor Seimei referred to the quarrel again, but Akitada’s hands shook as he handled the silver and gold.

When he was alone again, Akitada took out his flute and returned to the garden. The sun was already high, and the leaves of trees and shrubs drooped in the heat. Even a bird flying from branch to branch seemed listless. The hot wind hissed in the miscanthus and moved a tendril of the wisteria vine across an open shutter with a dry, scraping sound. Akitada tried a complex melody to distract his mind, but the music jarred, splintered, and broke into dissonance. Silence fell. The city beyond the trees seemed to be waiting fearfully, and Akitada searched his heart.

What had he done that his old friend should reject him so harshly? Surely Kobe could not believe that he would protect either Lady Kiyowara or her son if either should prove guilty. Perhaps Lady Kiyowara had believed it, but that did not make it true. And Abbot Shokan – had he also called on him because he thought the payment of gold bars would keep his protégé from being arrested? Did they all see him as a corrupt or corruptible official?

He knew he was innocent, but he had taken their gold. They would consider that a tacit acceptance of a bribe. He laughed bitterly. Maybe he should have asked for more since he was selling his honor.

It did not matter. They needed the money. He would earn his pay quickly and honestly and prove them all wrong.

But that was easier thought than done. He had no idea where to start on either case.

In his misery, he sought out Tamako to share his troubles.

‘How odd,’ she said when he had explained. ‘I wonder what happened.’

‘Happened? Nothing happened, except that Tora mentioned the Kiyowara son, and Kobe became suspicious.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so. I expect he knew already. Your visit there would not be a secret when the police were in and out of the house.’

Akitada considered that. ‘But then I don’t understand why Kobe was so very furious all of a sudden.’

‘Yes, it’s very strange. Perhaps you had better wait a while before judging your friend.’

Akitada made a face. ‘Much too late for that. He said some things… and I’m afraid I said some things… Well, I was naturally very angry.’

‘Naturally.’ She hesitated, then laid her hand on his. ‘I’m sorry. You have much to plague you just now.’

He felt a little better for having talked with Tamako and returned to his study. It was time to see Tora off on his trip. He had missed Genba – and Trouble. The dog was something of a clown who performed foolish tricks and made them all laugh. And Genba would bring his horse so he could ride into the countryside again. He had almost forgotten how beautiful the mountains were until his visit to Abbot Shokan. He would manage quite well without Kobe.

At this point, the witch walked into his study.

Customarily, women did not pay visits to strange men unless they were nuns or courtesans and entertainers belonging to the outcast class. The only other exceptions were miko, who were nominally shrine maidens, but more usually promiscuous females versed in exorcisms and fortune-telling. He assumed his visitor belonged to this group. Tora, who had let her in, gaped at her with an awed expression.

Akitada had last seen her at Lady Kiyowara’s, and then she had been sitting in a dim corner. Standing, she was astonishingly tall for a woman. The chains of beads and shells around her neck clicked softly as she lowered the red shawl from her head and draped it around her shoulders. Her hair was as wild and tangled as before, and the large brooding eyes in her handsome face fixed him as boldly. She neither knelt nor bowed, but stood before him as if she expected him to bow to her.

‘Umm,’ said Tora a little shakily. ‘This is the Lady Aoi, sir. She has something to ask you.’

‘Thank you, Tora. You may leave.’

The strange female looked after Tora with a slight frown and shook her head.

Lady Aoi? It was probably a professional name. Many courtesans chose fanciful names for themselves, and Lady Aoi was a famous character in Lady Murasaki’s novel Genji.

As the door closed behind Tora, she turned her eyes back to him and measured him coolly. Akitada said, ‘Please be seated – er, Lady Aoi. Did Lady Kiyowara send you?’

She knelt gracefully, then sat back on her heels. With a nod towards the door, she said in a rather deep but pleasant voice, ‘Your servant is as ignorant as you are.’

While he would admit to his own ignorance in the Kiyowara case, the criticism of Tora irritated Akitada. He said curtly, ‘I’m very busy. Could you get to the point?’

She eyed him for a moment. ‘Have you made arrangements for a miko?’

Somehow she must have discovered that Tamako was about to give birth. His irritation grew. ‘I don’t believe in fortune-tellers.’

She responded with a mocking smile. ‘You see? That is why I am here. You don’t believe in anything. How can you find the truth when you don’t believe?’

Akitada snapped, ‘Do you have a message for me or not? Is this visit in any way related to Lord Kiyowara’s murder?’

The mocking smile was back. ‘Of course. You know nothing, and you suspect the innocent. I told Hiroko as much, but she is another unbeliever.’

The familiar use of Lady Kiyowara’s personal name made Akitada cautious. ‘Perhaps you should explain your relationship first. Who are you?’

‘Oh, I am a cousin. She has many. I help her look into the future.’ She fixed him with those extraordinary eyes and said with great seriousness, ‘There is only the future, and it is already ordained.’

‘If that were true, it would be pointless to try to change it. Why are you here?’

She frowned, then returned to the former subject. ‘Your wife suffers from a fever. Most likely she is possessed and will need an exorcism.’

Akitada compressed his lips. The fact that she also knew about Tamako’s fever did not surprise him. It was easy enough to get gossip from neighbors. ‘Thank you. No exorcism is required. She is quite well again,’ he said flatly. ‘Why do you say I suspect the innocent? Do you know who killed Kiyowara?’

She shook her head impatiently. The beads around her neck clinked softly. ‘Your house is filled with angry ghosts. They intend harm to mother and child.’ She paused to listen and shuddered. ‘The atmosphere here is almost more violent than at my cousin’s.’

Akitada suppressed his rage. If she was indeed Lady Kiyowara’s cousin, he could hardly throw her out. There had been some disturbing tales of high-born ladies who had gone mad and imagined they were shape-shifting foxes or hungry ghosts. Such sick fancies were part and parcel of the worst superstitions, and females were prone to them. One could understand the common people believing in such things, but he was not about to encourage them. If she was indeed mad, he must meet her crazed comments with calm.

‘My wife is a sensible woman,’ he explained, speaking slowly, as if to a child. ‘She has never offended anyone. She will be quite safe from ghosts.’