Tora looked at the corpse. The dead man’s mouth gaped above a gruesome wound in his throat. “Ugly old bastard,” he muttered. “Looks like a toad snapping for flies.”

“If he was asleep, it wouldn’t take much strength to cut his throat with a sharp knife,” remarked Hitomaro, looking around. “I don’t see a knife, do you?”

“No. Wonder how much they got. Couldn’t be a fortune in a place like this.”

Chobei put in his head. “Satisfied?” he sneered. “Here’s the judge.”

Judge Hisamatsu bustled in as fast as short legs could carry a large paunch and thick layers of clothing. He had a round, clean-shaven face with pinched lips. The cold wind had given it some color, but he looked the sort of man who rarely spent time in the outdoors. At the moment he was irritated. “What’s this then?” he demanded. “Can’t you do anything yourself, Chobei?”

Chobei bowed. “A murder, your Honor. Nasty. I thought...” he began apologetically.

The judge stared at Tora and Hitomaro. “What are these people doing here? Get rid of them. Is that the victim?” He waddled to the platform, peered, and immediately turned away. “You might have warned me,” he said, gulping air.

The unfairly chastised Chobei bowed humbly. “Very sorry, your Honor. I tried, but being kept by idle questions, I was unable to greet you. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t. Where’s Yasakichi?”

“The coroner has been notified, your Honor.”

The judge twitched impatiently. “Well, he should be here then. Must I do everything? What happened?”

“Murder and robbery, sir. The victim’s name is Sato. The owner of the inn. His money box has been broken open and his gold is gone.”

The judge glanced at the box. “Ah. You have arrested the killer?”

“Killers, your Honor. No, sir. Not yet. But they left only a few hours ago. On foot. I’ve sent a constable to the garrison with descriptions. The soldiers will bring them back shortly.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“No, your Honor.”

Hitomaro cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Your pardon, your Honor,” he said, “but could we find out about those killers?”

The judge peered at him in the poor light. “Why? Who are you?”

Hitomaro saluted. “Lieutenant Hitomaro, sir. And this is Lieutenant Tora. In his Excellency’s service.”

Tora straightened up a fraction.

“What? What Excellency? I don’t know you.”

Tora gave another low growl, which was somehow appropriate for his bearskin and made the judge skip a step away from him.

“The governor, your Honor,” Hitomaro said, keeping a straight face while kicking Tora in the ankle.

“The governor? Oh, you mean you’re with the fellow from the capital? Sugawara?”

“Look here,” Tora burst out, “you’d better keep a civil tongue—”

Hitomaro got a hard grip on Tora’s arm. “His Honor probably hasn’t been fully informed, Tora.” Turning back to the judge, he said smoothly, “His Excellency, Lord Sugawara, has been duly appointed to take over the administration of this province. The imperial decree was read in front of the tribunal a week ago and a copy is posted on the notice board. I’m sure your Honor will wish to pay him a welcoming visit.”

Judge Hisamatsu opened his mouth, thought better of it, and waved it aside. “Yes, well, we’ve been very busy. But I’m sure you won’t be needed in this case.”

“About the suspects,” Hitomaro persisted. “Could we be told about them?”

Hisamatsu hesitated. “Well, it’s not really your business, but I see no harm in it. Chobei?”

Chobei bowed. “There were three of them. Riffraff. The maid described them. They came separately, but left together before dawn today. When she got up, she found them gone and her master dead. Two of the men come from far away. A peddler by the name of Umehara and an unemployed actor called Okano. The other man claims to be a local peasant by the name of Takagi.”

“There you are,” said the judge to Hitomaro. “Now please go. Here is Dr. Yasakichi.”

“Just a minute—” Tora started, but Hitomaro took his arm and pulled him out of the room. In the dim passage they moved aside for the coroner, dingy-robed and carrying a satchel.

Hitomaro released his companion when they were back in the drafty courtyard. “Look,” he said, “you’ve got to control your temper better. We don’t know what’s what yet and you can’t be making enemies before we even get to know these people. Remember what the master said.”

Tora felt rebellious but nodded. “I guess you’re right, brother. Did you smell that coroner? Not that I blame a man for having something to warm his belly in this weather.” He gestured across the highway. “Since we didn’t get much information here, how about a cup of hot wine in that shack over there?”

The “shack” was opposite the post station next door. A train of pack horses was leaving, the grooms shouting and whipping up the animals. Steam rose from their shaggy coats in the cold air. Near the wineshop, a few hawkers had set up their stands. Bundled up, they were selling straw boots and rain coats, rice dumplings, and lanterns to travelers departing for the warmer south before the snows came. The onlookers at the gate were gone, no doubt beaten back by the constable.

Tora and Hitomaro crossed the street after the pack train. A tattered bamboo blind with faded characters covered the door of the wineshop. They lifted it and ducked in.

A thick miasma of smoke, oil fumes, and sour wine met them. The light was dim because both tiny windows were covered with rags and blinds to keep out the frigid air. What little light there was came from oil lamps attached to the walls and from a glowing charcoal fire in the middle of the small room. A handful of customers sat around the fire, and an ancient woman, round as a dumpling, was pouring wine and carrying on a conversation. An even older man, his thin frame bent almost double, bustled forward. Hitomaro and Tora decided to stay away from the haze around the fire and sat on an empty bench near the door. Leaning their bows against the wall, they ordered a flask of hot wine.

“What did you make of that?” Tora asked, jerking his head toward the Golden Carp.

Hitomaro looked thoughtful. “Lack of cooperation. Not surprising, really. The judge wasn’t too sure of himself, though, or we wouldn’t have had the time of day from them.”

“I meant the murder.”

Hitomaro chewed his lip. “Could be it happened that way.”

“I don’t think so.”