The municipal jail was only a few blocks away. He found Kobe pacing in the guard room, a bare hall primarily decorated with chains, whips, handcuffs and leg irons hanging from hooks on the walls.

"Ah. There you are," Kobe said in lieu of a greeting. On a rickety and scarred wooden table lay a bulky paper package tied with cord. Kobe tore it open, and took out a wrinkled length of bright red brocade with a small pattern of flowers and birds in many colors. "Do you recognize it?"

Akitada stepped closer. "It looks like the one the girl wore to her lesson," he said, touching the fabric. The creases were particularly deep in two places. It looked as if the sash had been looped around something, and then pulled and twisted sharply. He glanced at Kobe. "This must have been used to strangle her."

Kobe nodded. He picked up the sash, refolded it, and put it in his sleeve. "Follow me!" he said, heading out the door.

They passed down a long, dingy corridor with many cell doors. Haggard faces appeared at the grates, but none of the prisoners spoke. At the end of the corridor a door opened onto a veranda which looked down into the jail's courtyard, where a dismal group awaited them. Two brutish-looking guards jumped up and jerked a bedraggled figure between them erect. With a thin cry of pain the old beggar staggered to his feet. Because his ankles were chained and his hands tied behind his back, he lost his balance and fell against one of the guards, who immediately clouted him over the head. The old man sagged to his knees again. His chin sank to his chest and he whimpered.

"Why are you holding this poor old man?" Akitada cried.

Kobe shot him a glance. "He is the suspect in the murder."

"Impossible! And what have you done to him? There is blood on his clothes."

"He has been whipped. Such methods are used when suspects refuse to cooperate."

"But he is only an old man. How could he have had the strength to kill that young woman, let alone—"

Kobe interrupted sharply, "May I remind you that we are not alone?"

Akitada flushed. "Why did you bring me here?" he said as sharply.

"I wanted you to hear what he has to say. At first we thought he was simply stubborn and facetious, but I have since had second thoughts." Kobe turned to the group in the yard and shouted, "Umakai? Look at this!" Removing the brocade sash from his sleeve, he held it up.

The beggar continued to sag between the burly guards. One of them kicked him. "Pay attention, you piece of dung!" he snarled. The old man slowly raised his face to look up at the veranda. Akitada's stomach contracted with pity. The old face was bruised and bloodied, and tears ran down the wrinkled cheeks.

"Tell this gentleman who gave you the pretty red sash!" shouted Kobe.

The beggar trembled and shook his head violently. The guard to his left raised a whip, but Kobe stopped him. "Don't worry, Umakai!" he called. "You will not be beaten if you tell us what we want to know. This gentleman was in the park and may have seen the same thing you saw."

The old man looked at Akitada, thought about it, and shook his head again. Kobe frowned. "Listen to me, Umakai," he roared. "I don't have time to waste. Either you talk, or I'll send for the bamboo switches. Do you understand?"

Akitada moved. "Captain Kobe," he said through clenched teeth, "I will not watch an innocent man being beaten. If you wish me to remain, I suggest we go inside, dispense with those two fellows, and give the old man something to drink to loosen his tongue."

Kobe suddenly smiled, his white teeth flashing from his bearded face. "But of course," he said smoothly. "Why not?"

The beggar was taken to the guard room, untied, and settled on an old cushion. Kobe produced a pitcher of wine and poured him a cup. Umakai moved clumsily because his wrists were swollen, but he managed to raise the cup to his mouth and empty it in a single gulp. He gave a deep sigh, and Kobe refilled the cup. The old man drank again. This time he burped and clutched his stomach.

"Are you in pain?" Akitada asked anxiously.

"Not bad, not bad," the old one muttered, giving him his attention for a moment. "Is it true you saw him?" he asked. His eyes were curiously unsteady, shifting about between Akitada, Kobe and the objects in the room.

"I may have," Akitada said cautiously. "What did he look like?"

"What did he look like? Why, he looks like all of them. They all look alike, don't they?"

Akitada thought for a moment. It occurred to him that the beggar must have seen a guard or a policeman. "You mean he wore a uniform?"

Umakai chuckled. "A uniform? I guess you could call it that."

"It was a red coat, wasn't it?" Akitada shot a glance at Kobe, who raised his eyebrows.

The beggar stared at Akitada. "No, a red hat," he said. "Don't you know anything?"

"A red hat!" Akitada looked at Kobe again, who grinned back broadly and nodded.

"But . . . nobody wears a red hat," Akitada protested.

"Oh, I don't know," said Kobe, studying the ceiling. "Ask him the name of the fellow with the red hat!"

Feeling foolish, Akitada turned back to the beggar and asked, "Did he have a name?"

Umakai gave him a pitying look. "Of course! Everybody knows his name. Stupid question! There are hundreds of them all over the place."

Akitada sighed. Kobe must be playing an embarrassing joke on him. The old beggar was clearly mad. But he decided to play along. "Please tell me. I seem to have forgotten it," he said.

He received a sympathetic glance from the old man. "So you've got that trouble too. My head hurts fearfully some days, and I can't remember where I slept the night before. But I would never forget Jizo."

"Jizo?" Akitada turned to Kobe, who was grinning and nodding his head. "Does he mean the god Jizo? The one who protects travellers?"

"And small children," said Kobe. "In fact, that is why mothers sew red hats and bibs for his statues."

Umakai cried, "Now do you remember? He had his red hat on and he gave me a present. Did he give you a present, too?"

"No," said Akitada. "I wish he had. Where did you meet Jizo?"

The old man frowned. "I don't know. Someplace. There's one on the corner of Third Avenue. Third and Suzaku. You go and ask him! Ask him for a present too! And tell him Umakai says hello."

"Thank you. I will. Did you ask Jizo for the pretty red sash?"

"No. I just stuck out my empty bowl as he was passing. And right away he put the pretty red silk in it."

"I see I must get myself a bowl," said Akitada with a straight face. "But isn't the bowl for food? A man can't eat silk when he is hungry."

"Wasn't a bit hungry. Had some bean soup at city hall. The clerks there are my friends. Would you tell them about me?" Umakai's eyes were filling with tears again. "Tell them to come get me! And tell Jizo they took my present away and beat me!"

Akitada turned to Kobe. "Surely . . ." he said.

Kobe walked over to the beggar and helped him up. "Come, Umakai," he said. "We'll find you a nice place to sleep and some hot food. By tomorrow you'll feel much better." He clapped his hands and when a constable appeared, he told him, "Take him away. Give him bedding and see that he gets some food, but lock him up!"