Sadenari flushed more deeply.  “Surely they don’t care.  And if the girl was a prostitute, many men must have seen her like that when she was alive.”  Akitada looked at him, and Sadenari positively flamed.  He gulped.  “At least . . . I think that must be what happens.”

“Have you never visited a pleasure house?” Akitada asked, surprised.

Sadenari shook his head.  “The others were talking about Eguchi.  They’ve been there many times and say those places are full of beautiful women.  A man may have several in one night.”  He blurted, “Oh, how I wish I might do so just once!”

Akitada snorted.  “Nonsense.  Your father wouldn’t like it.  Wait till you have a wife.”  Sadenari came from a very proper family.  That probably accounted for the fact that at nineteen he was still a virgin.

“Yes, sir,” Sadenari murmured, looking dejected.

Akitada felt a twinge of pity.  The very young had their own worries, but having along a youth in the throes of lust could become a nuisance, perhaps even a danger, when one is tracking corrupt officials.  The fact that their work would be so near the brothel towns was likely to keep Sadenari in a state of painful mental arousal and might lead him into mischief.  Akitada toyed with the idea of letting him loose in Eguchi, but the youth probably did not have the money to purchase a woman.  His father kept him very short.  And advancing him the funds for a night of debauchery went against Akitada’s grain.

He turned away to watch the approach to the Eguchi wharf, where other boats like theirs were moored.  Already several small pleasure boats were coming toward them, their occupants holding large, brightly colored parasols.  Prostitutes eager to snatch the first customers.  He sighed and glanced at Sadenari.  The boy watched the women hungrily.  When the women in the first boat struck up a song, his face broke into a smile of delight.

“Oh,” he breathed.  “I had no idea they could be such artists.”

Akitada snorted.  Sadenari had a nice face, and he was young and a gentleman.  Even the most mercenary female in the water trade might relent in such a case.  Perhaps it was best to leave him to his own resources.

A lively exchange between passengers and boats sprang up as they maneuvered to the landing stage.  One of the young men climbed into the boat with the rose-colored parasol and embraced its occupant.

When they had tied up, Akitada and Sadenari left the boat, but stopped to watch the unloading of the dead woman.  Sadenari fidgeted.

The news of the drowned girl spread quickly, and a small crowd gathered to peer down at the reed mat covering the body.  Most were women, young and older, anxious or merely curious.

After a short, tense wait, the local warden, a burly man with a paunch and a bristling mustache, pushed his way past them.  He lifted the mat, looked, and shook his head.  He singled out two middle-aged women and waved them over.“Take a look.  Was she working here?”  They peered and shook their heads.  One said, “That one was a beauty, wasn’t she?”  The warden nodded and dropped the mat again.  “Not one of ours,” he called out to the onlookers, who dispersed.

Akitada, followed by Sadenari, approached the man and said,  “I was on the boat.  The boatmen found her upriver,  near that bend.”  He pointed.  “It seems too far for her to have come from Eguchi.  It may not be a simple suicide of another prostitute.  Besides, as the woman said, she was remarkably beautiful.”

The warden eyed him, taking in the silk robe, and became deferential. “Very kind of you to take an interest, sir, but I assure you that our ladies are very superior.  Our houses employ only the most talented and beautiful girls.  There are many better looking than this one.”  He gave the body on the ground a dismissive shove with a booted foot.  With a grin at Sadenari, he added, “I’m sure the gentlemen will enjoy checking out the truth of that while they’re here.”

Akitada was irritated.  “Thank you, but we travel on official business.  I noticed something tied around the girl’s neck.  Perhaps that will help you trace her.”  He bent to lift the mat again and pointed to a thin string of white silk braid that hid behind the long wet hair.  It looped around the slender neck and disappeared under the folds of the robe.

 The warden grasped it and pulled out a small brocade pouch.  “Just an amulet,” he said dismissively.  “Most of the girls have them.  We’ll send word to Kamusaki and Kaya.  She may have jumped into the water from one of the boats.  Still, the best thing is to let the monks have her for cremation.  She’s been in the water, and those bodies don’t keep long.”

“That’s all you’re going to do?  Aren’t you even going to look at the amulet?” asked Sadenari angrily.  “Lord Sugawara and I serve in the Ministry of Justice.  It strikes me that you’re very lax in your duties.”

The warden flushed.  He bent again and opened the little pouch, extracting a small gilded coin.  “How about that? A piece of silver.”  He weighed the metal in his hand.

“Let me see that,” Akitada demanded in a voice that allowed no argument.

The warden handed the coin over reluctantly.  It was curiously made and appeared to be mostly silver, but with some decorative gold overlay.  It had a square hole in the center, just like copper coinage.  The holes in coppers were for a string so they could be carried more conveniently.  But this was no copper coin.  Both silver and gold coins were oblong and had no holes.  Besides, this had an intricate design, so finely made that Akitada had to lift it closer to his eyes to make out the tiny Buddha figures and clouds.  Most likely, this was meant as an amulet, the hole serving to tie it around the wearer’s neck.  Why then had the girl hidden it in a separate pouch?

“It’s not a coin,” said Akitada.  “It’s a Buddhist amulet, but not made in this country, I think. See.”  He showed the ornamentation to the warden.

“Doesn’t matter,” said the man said.  “It’s worth something.  She got it from a customer, I expect. We get travelers from Korea and China.  Even their monks have stopped in Eguchi.”  He chortled and gave Akitada a sly look.  “You’d be surprised what monks can get up to, sir.”

Akitada would not, but he tried to look disapproving.  “I suppose it will go toward  the young woman’s funeral?”

“Right, sir.”  The warden held out his hand.

 Akitada gazed at the medal.  “Look here,” he said, “it’s a curious piece.  I’ve a friend who would like it.  What if I made a suitable donation, enough to cover the young woman’s funeral, in exchange for this.”

The warden frowned.  “I don’t know.  It’s evidence. How much did you have in mind, sir?”

Akitada reached into his sash and brought out a piece of gold.  “Gold for silver?”  He held both items up before the warden’s greedy eyes.  The gold piece was larger and shone in the setting sun.  The amulet, its silver darkened by time, looked dull by comparison.

The warden reached for the gold.  “Done, sir.  And the poor girl will thank you from the other world.”  He caught Akitada’s watchful eye as he stuffed the gold into his belt. “I’ll see it gets to the monks, sir.”

 Akitada nodded and started for the town.  Sadenari hung back, watching the warden and his men taking away the body of the drowned girl.  Then he hurried after Akitada.  “That was kind, sir,” he said, when he caught up, “but do you trust that warden?  He looked like a thief to me.”

“No doubt he is,” said Akitada dryly.  He glanced up and down the street of shops and eating places, all decorated with banners and paper lanterns.  “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.  How about sampling the local food?”

*

They ate in a small place where they were unlikely to be bothered by women soliciting their business.  Gauging Akitada’s status nicely, an elderly waiter had bowed them to a recess where a few cushions rested on a raised section.  They took off their shoes, sat down, and ordered food and wine.