He blinked at her and then stared at Saburo. Freeing himself from her arms, he cried, “Don’t you touch my sister. I’ll kill you,” and lashed out weakly at Saburo with a balled fist.

“Don’t,” she cried, catching the flailing hand in hers. “He came to help us.”

The boy closed his eyes and fell back.

Saburo stood and looked around. He did not like this place. Neither did he trust the hoodlums not to come back to take out their frustration and anger on them.

“Where do you children live?” he asked. “I’ll take you home.”

She gestured vaguely down the street. “We’ll be all right,” she said. “It’s not far.”

“Your brother cannot walk,” Saburo pointed out and scooped him up. The child was not exactly light, and he hoped she had spoken the truth about the distance.

“Thank you,” she murmured and went to gather the cages. One was broken and empty. In the other, the bird lay dead. She gave a small moan, removed the limp body and laid it gently in a patch of grass. Carrying both cages, she started off down the street.

Saburo walked behind, the boy occasionally stirring and muttering in his arms. They took a confusing number of streets and alleys to end up in a shrine garden.

The girl passed through this to the back where a ruined building loomed over the trees below. Here, an assortment of bird cages, much like the ones she carried, hung from tree limbs or were stacked against the wall of the abandoned building. There were birds in the hanging cages. Some chirped sleepily.

Saburo stopped and listened carefully. He was still afraid they might have been followed, but all remained still.

The girl walked around the corner of the building to where an open doorway gaped. Entering, she told Saburo, “Wait here, please. There are some boards missing on the stairs. I’ll bring a light.”

Saburo stood, his arms aching a little, and looked about. It was very dark, but he could see the rickety staircase rising precariously into the darkness above. Below, the blackness was broken here and there by what must be open windows or holes in the roof.

A shimmer of light appeared above, and the girl came down. She carried an oil lamp. Saburo started up the stairs, watching out for missing and broken steps, worrying over whether the stairs would support their weight.

Upstairs, grass mats had been hung from rafters and across windows to make a small space in an empty, open area reminding him of a warehouse. The floor was scrupulously swept. An old trunk, a small bamboo rack with a few chipped dishes, a small pile of bedding, and a bird cage with a bird made up the furnishings.

The bird, a pale green color, woke and sang.

The girl went to spread out some bedding, and Saburo laid the boy down. His eyes were wide open.

“How are you, Kichiro?” Saburo asked.

“My eye hurts. And my head.” He looked for the girl. “Naoko?” He sounded frightened.

She said, “This man’s a friend who helped us. Thank him!”

Saburo smiled. “No need.” He looked around. “How do you manage? Where is your family?”

She looked away. “Our parents are dead. There’s no one. I’m called Naoko. Kichiro is my brother. He catches song birds. Bush warblers and white eyes and cuckoos. I make cages for them, and we sell them in the market and on the streets.”

“My name is Saburo. As I told you, I work for the new governor and am a stranger here. Those men you tangled with are bad. You shouldn’t be walking around at night. And you should really not be going into wine shops.”

She nodded calmly. “I know. We needed money, so we decided to give it a try. Sometimes the sailors like a bird to take on their ship with them.”

With a sigh, Saburo dug into his sash and extracted a string of coppers. Counting out half of them, he placed them on the trunk. “I think your brother will be all right in the morning. This is for food. I’ll be back when I can, but you must be more careful.”

She looked at the money. Tears rose to her eyes. “Thank you.” Then she looked up at him and added softly, “If you’d like to take your pleasure, I won’t mind.”

Saburo thought he had not heard right. Then he exploded into a curse, took her thin shoulders in his hands, and shook her. She looked terrified and the boy started up with a cry.

Saburo dropped his hands and said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, but you’re just a child. How can you even think of such a thing?”

“I’m nearly fourteen,” she said, her chin raised defiantly. “And you needn’t worry. I’ve been raped before.”

Sickened, Saburo turned away. “Don’t ever do such a thing again, do you hear? Now go to bed. Be careful when you go out tomorrow. Those men may be around. I’ll be back tomorrow evening, but if there’s more trouble, go to Sergeant Maeda at the police station.”

12

THE MAYOR’S BANQUET

When Akitada woke, Saburo was already moving about his room. Yawning, Akitada sat up. It was light outside, but the long sleep had made him feel rested and energetic. Getting up, he said, “You let me sleep too long,” and went to open the shutters. A small greenish bird perched in the cherry tree, singing in sunshine. When he turned around, he saw that Saburo looked tired. He had removed the false beard and mustache and reapplied fresh makeup. It made him seem unnaturally pale.

“You look terrible,” Akitada announced and sat down at his desk.

Saburo busied himself with making tea. “I just got back, sir.”

“Really? I don’t insist you go without sleep completely. Was it an interesting night?”

“You might say so.”

“Should we talk about it outside?”

“No. I think your private quarters are safe enough these days. Besides what happened has probably nothing to do with smuggling.”

The tea water boiled and Saburo brewed the tea.

“So what happened?” Akitada asked, watching him.

“I found two poor children who’d been attacked by thugs. The girl is only thirteen, and her brother is about nine. There were three of the bastards, and they tried to rape her. I took the children home, if you can call the place home, and then stayed outside to watch in case the men returned.”

“Three grown men trying to rape a child? What kind of place is this? And where were the constables?”

“The children made the mistake of going into a wine shop near the harbor to sell some song birds. They live in a bad part of town, and the hoodlums followed them.” Saburo presented a cup of tea.

Akitada was too angry to drink it. “Everything that has happened so far points to the complete incompetence of Captain Okata. I think I’ll do as Tora suggests and remove him from his post, replacing him with his sergeant.”

Saburo nodded. “I told the children to go to Sergeant Maeda. And I’d like to go back tonight if I may.”

“Yes, but get some sleep first.”

“One of those men was Chinese and had two fingers missing. And he collected something, probably money, from one of the captains of the ships. The missing fingers were on his right hand. The last two. I thought of the man you met at Feng’s store.”

Akitada sat up. “Aha. Yes, it sounds like him. Ugly, big brute?”

Saburo nodded. “I’d like to have a word with him.”

“I don’t like this business about collecting money from ships docking here. Better not tangle with him until we have more information. What about Hayashi?”

“Yes. I almost forgot. He had a meeting. First with Feng and the shrine priest. That took about an hour. Then the priest left and others arrived. Looked like a guild meeting.”

“Interesting.” Akitada finally sipped his tea. “I’m to dine with the mayor tonight. I expect some of those men will be attending. Perhaps I can learn something then.”

Tora came in as Saburo poured a second cup. He had little to report but listened with shocked outrage to Saburo’s tale about the children. “I’ll talk to Maeda,” he offered.