The monk blew out the lamp. In the darkness, Hitomaro said, "If you turn us in, you're a dead man. You may get one or two of us, but the rest will find you."

Spike breathed down Tora's neck. "And it won't be pretty when we do," he snarled.

Fifteen

The Ghostly Mansion

The next morning Akitada was up early, dressed for work and full of brisk purpose. Tora, on the other hand, presented himself holding his head and looking distinctly green.

"Good heavens!" Akitada stared at him. "This is the third day in a row that you show up here after a night of debauchery. Even your constitution is not going to keep up with this."

"It is said," remarked Seimei with a sniff, setting down a tray with Akitada's morning rice, "that with the first cup man consumes wine, with the second, wine consumes wine, and with the third wine consumes man." He peered more closely at Tora and added, "You truly look ill."

"It's not wine," muttered Tora, collapsing on a cushion. "My skull collided with a metal spike some fellow was using for a hand." He sniffed hungrily, eyeing the steaming rice gruel in Akitada's bowl. "And I've missed supper and breakfast both."

Seimei went to inspect the large swelling under Tora's hair and left, muttering, to prepare an herbal compress. Akitada pushed his bowl towards Tora. "Eat first and then tell me what happened."

Raising the bowl to his mouth, Tora tilted back his head and drank the rice gruel in large gulps. Lowering the bowl, he licked his lips. "Thanks. That's better," he said with a sigh of satisfaction. "Well, I found the old beggar, poor bastard. Someone had got to him before I did. He was strangled, dumped in a canal, pronounced an accident and buried in the cemetery behind the Buddhist temple west of Rashomon— all in a day's work!"

Akitada looked grim. "Explain." Tora obliged in detail, while Seimei returned with another serving of gruel and a pungent herb pack which he applied to Tora's head, making clucking noises from time to time. It was not clear if he was commenting on the injury or Tora's story.

Akitada was deeply distressed by the beggar's death, but when Tora was done, he said only, "So! Our strangler again!" He got up and searched among his papers. "Here, show me on this map where the body was found!"

Tora pointed. "About there, from what I could make out."

"Hmm." Akitada pulled his earlobe and pursed his lips. "Between the river and to the east of the market."

"The business quarter. Merchant houses back up to the canal."

"Very strange. Not the kind of place to leave a body. Shoppers are passing back and forth, and the authorities keep an eye on things. More to the point, I cannot imagine what Umakai was doing there. They don't tolerate beggars."

"Well," said Tora. He scratched his head and dislodged the compress, causing another flurry of cluckings from Seimei. Tora ignored him. "The merchants close at a decent hour and go to bed. After that it gets pretty quiet at night. And I don't think many people would pass that way from the Willow Quarter."

"Regardless, the body must have been dumped at night, and even then the killer would have taken a chance." Akitada paused and considered. "Unless the murder happened inside one of the houses or in a courtyard." A vague idea began to take shape in his mind. Perhaps they had looked at the case the wrong way all along.

"Maybe," said Tora, "the killer was following Umakai and when he got to the canal, he strangled him, tossed him in the water, and walked away as if nothing had happened. It wouldn't take long with a decrepit old man like that."

"He would hardly get away with it in broad daylight. And where was Umakai all day? Nobody saw him after he left the city hall."

Tora had no answer to this problem.

"Merchants," said Akitada thoughtfully. "I wonder . . . Tora, as soon as you feel better I want you to go and find out who lives in the houses that back up to the canal. Seimei can take a note to Captain Kobe telling him where to look for Umakai's corpse. I hope the man has the sense to let the student go now."

"I feel fine," said Tora, getting up and losing the compress again. "And I can take the note on my way. I want to make sure old Umakai's friends don't get into trouble." He pressed the herbal pack into Seimei's hand.

Seimei protested, but Akitada said, "Leave him be, Seimei! I must say, Tora, you are unusually forgiving about the treatment you received. And conditions at Rashomon are getting appalling. The sooner the authorities are made aware of what is going on there, the better. This may just get them started cleaning out the riffraff around the gate."

Tora looked shocked. "You can't do that. Those guys let me go. I grant you Spike and Nail are a bit rough, but Monk and Hitomaro were very decent. They're educated men like you, reading books and everything. You can't throw people in jail for being down on their luck. You'd soon have nobody left to clean the streets and plow the fields."

Akitada grimaced. "You are right. Very well, I leave the matter in your hands." He rose and put on his hat. "Seimei, please make copies of the documents your chess partner promised to bring." At the door he paused and added, "Oh, and see if you can find out what tradesmen were supplying the wine, lanterns, cushions and so forth for the poetry competition. Try the housekeeping office in the Treasury and the office of the superintendent of the imperial parks."

Astonished, Tora and Seimei stared at each other.

The mansion that once belonged to Prince Yoakira was only a short distance from the Sugawara residence. A tall plaster wall topped with tiles protected a compound covering an entire block. Behind the wall rose the tops of tall trees and the tiled roofs of many halls. A great silence hung over the whole area.

The heavy, studded double gate was securely locked, but a smaller gate beside it stood open. Akitada walked in and crossed an imposing entry courtyard. It was deserted. To the right and left rose buildings with deep verandas and wide roof overhangs. They were connected by covered galleries through which one could see other courtyards, some with trees and shrubbery, and more halls, roofs and galleries. Once the place would have thronged with visitors and bustled with servants. Now the emptiness and silence were oppressive.

Akitada passed by the main building, containing the ceremonial rooms used only for public functions or great family celebrations. Probably the service conducted by Sesshin had taken place there, but now the hall lay closed and brooding in the morning sun.

Beyond it was another courtyard, this one with a group of pines, dark and stiff guardians over the adjoining private residences. Which one had been the prince's? They all looked alike. Here must also be the quarters occupied by his granddaughter and grandson. Where had the boy stood when he saw his grandfather rushing across the compound towards the building belonging to his sister?

Suddenly Akitada felt uncomfortably like an intruder caught in the act. He turned quickly, scanning the surroundings. Nothing. Yet it was as if he had disturbed the peace of some immanent force, and a shiver ran down his spine.

But then his ear caught a reassuringly human sound in this ghostly place. In the distance, someone was raking gravel.

Following the soft, swishing sounds, Akitada went in search of the lone gardener. After a few wrong turns, he passed through a gallery into a small inner courtyard which was shaded by a huge old paulownia tree. An old man in a loose hempen shirt and pants was busy sweeping up the fallen blossoms and yellowed leaves.