“I don’t know. I expect it was his age. His mind went years ago, and he would not permit anyone, not even his son, near him. Only Hideo served him. This past summer his speech failed and finally his body followed.” Kaibara paused and added piously, “The Buddha calls extraordinary men to him.”

Akitada was listening with half an ear. He studied the room, its floor, walls, ceiling, windows, and door, without seeing anything out of the ordinary. Except for the crookedly fastened blind, the room was almost too neat. Someone had taken pains to clean up after the old lord’s death. He was eyeing the thick tatami mats when Kaibara asked impatiently, “Where to next, Excellency?”

Reluctantly Akitada abandoned his train of thought. “Oh, the servants, I think. Hideo’s closest associates and anyone who might have been near the north pavilion the night of Lord Maro’s death.” He cast another glance about and followed the others out.

Kaibara ordered the manor’s domestic staff to assemble in one of the courtyards.

“Bow to his Excellency, the governor,” he told them. They fell to their knees. “He wishes to ask you some questions about poor Hideo’s ...”

Akitada interrupted him. “Thank you. This will do very well. We won’t need to detain you any longer.”

Kaibara opened his mouth but, meeting Akitada’s eyes, he thought better of it, bowed, and departed.

Akitada scanned the gathering of young and old manservants and maids, guards, cooks, and runners. Some looked puzzled, others hostile. He addressed them in an informal manner.

“As you may already know, your fellow servant Hideo was found dead below the north pavilion. He must have fallen during the night Lord Maro died. I am here to find out how it happened. He served here all his life, and you all knew him. Some of you may have been his friends. Some may have seen him on the night of his death. And some of you may simply have seen or heard something unusual that night. They are the ones I would like to speak to. The rest of you may return to your work.”

There was a buzz of excitement, and then the courtyard emptied quickly. Only four people remained: three maids and one old man. The old man looked painfully shy and was wringing his hands nervously. Two of the women were middle-aged and haggard, staring back stupidly, but without fear. Akitada thought they almost looked pleased to be questioned. The third maid was a stocky young girl with plain broad features, bright black eyes, and red cheeks. She was nervous, biting her lip and glancing over her shoulder as if she expected someone.

Proper protocol had to be followed, so Akitada addressed the male first. “What is your name?”

“This person is called Koreburo, your Excellency,” the ancient quavered, bobbing several bows.

“Well, Koreburo, what do you know about this affair?”

“By the great Buddha, Excellency, I swear I know nothing. I’ve done nothing.” His gnarled hands knotted and unknotted, and he breathed, “Amida.”

Seeing that the man was inarticulate with awe or fear, Akitada gentled his voice. “Calm yourself. You have nothing to fear from me.”

Koreburo took a breath and nodded.

“I see your hair has turned white in the service of your master. You must be of an age with Hideo.”

“Ah,” cried the old man, sitting up a little, and raising a hand, fingers extended. “I’m five years older and have served two years longer.” He waved two fingers of his other hand at Akitada. “Hideo always said that he worked twice as hard, so he had really served one hundred years to my fifty. But it isn’t so, Excellency. Hideo was a great liar sometimes.”

Akitada smiled. “Only lifelong friends talk that way to each other.”

The old man nodded, his eyes suddenly brimming with tears. “That’s the truth. We played go together after work. I won mostly. When our old women were still alive, the four of us went on a pilgrimage to Ise. Oh, what a time we had! Now he’s gone and there’s only me.” He hung his head. “Nobody to talk to anymore. The young ones, what do they know? They drink and gamble and chase the women. Hideo used to come to my room after he’d tucked in the master. I’d have the go board set out and we’d play, and all the time he’d worry about Lord Maro. He loved the master.”

“Koreburo,” cried one of the older women softly. “Remember what Master Kaibara said!”

The old man shot her an irritated glance. “Yes, yes. I’m not to talk of unimportant things, but this might be important. Because, Excellency, the night the master died, Hideo did not come. I waited a long time and wondered. His lordship was getting worse, and Hideo had said the end was near. And so it was, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Akitada. He was intrigued by the maid’s warning. Evidently Kaibara had anticipated his visit and cautioned the servants. He wondered what he had told them, but decided not to press the old man. “Thank you, Koreburo,” he said. “If you remember anything else, you must come to the tribunal.”

He turned next to the woman who had spoken, though he expected little from her or her companion. But precedence had to be followed here, too. “And who are you?” he asked.

“This person is called Chiyo, your Excellency.” She bowed and pointed to her companion, “Mika and me, we were sweeping the corridor and we saw Hideo. He was running from the old master’s room and then a little while later he was running back. That’s all we saw of him that night, your Excellency.”

“When was that?”

The two women exchanged puzzled glances. “I can’t say, your Excellency,” the first one stammered. “It was getting dark outside.”

The second woman nodded. “The banquet was half over. They were taking in the pickled salmon and plums. We left then to lay out Lord Makio’s bedding.”

“Did Hideo speak to either of you as he passed?”

They shook their heads, and the second one said, “He looked so worried, I don’t think he saw us. It wasn’t his usual time to leave his master. Maybe he was sent for.”

“No, Mika,” chided the other one. “Don’t be stupid. We’d been cleaning the end of that corridor. If somebody’d gone to fetch Hideo, we would’ve seen him. Nobody went down that corridor except Hideo.”

Akitada looked at her attentively. “And later?”

They exchanged glances again. “We were in Lord Makio’s room then,” said the first woman.

“But,” cried Mika, “the door was open. I heard footsteps, and then I saw Master Kaibara going past.” She paused. “But I did wonder about the paper.”

“Mika!” said her companion reproachfully. “Don’t talk about unimportant things. Only about Hideo.”

“Sorry.” Mika put both hands over her mouth.