Black Arrow (31 page)

“Amida!” he muttered. “Hito, come here and look at this. I could swear that’s the same scar on his ear as on the sick man at the Golden Carp. Remember, I told you about the poor bastard the widow was going to throw out in the street? I thought it looked like a mouse took a bite out of his earlobe. And this is just the same.” He slammed his fist into his hand. “By the Buddha, I bet it’s a secret sign. A gang mark. They both belonged to some secret society. Come on. We’ve got to tell the master.” Flinging the reed mat back over Kaibara, he dashed out the door, leaving Hitomaro to lock up.

♦

When Tora burst in with his news, Akitada was seated behind his desk. Things had gone from worse to disastrous, and he had not slept. The wound in his shoulder caused a constant searing ache that he had hidden from his wife. Tamako was unaware of his injury and distracted by the fact that Seimei had taken to his bed with chills and a bad cough. She had dosed him with his own concoction and he had finally slept. Akitada, on the other hand, had lain awake, worrying about Seimei, about the danger they were in, about the missing boy Toneo, and about the next day’s hearing. A vicious cycle of separate calamities kept him company until he rose at dawn.

But now he smiled at Tora. “Good,” he said. “I wondered what had become of you. Matters seem to have reached a critical point. I need all of you to stand by.”

Tora flushed. Falling to his knees, he bowed his head. “I was going to kill myself this morning, but Hito said you needed me.” He did not see Akitada’s astonishment nor his momentary amusement, and continued in a rush, “It’s true you sent me to check the horses before Kaibara came, but I was taking my time because I was afraid to come back. Afraid of the ghost, I mean, not that bastard Kaibara. But it was cowardly and it’s my fault you got hurt. Hito says I now owe you two lives instead of one and that you would need me to die fighting your enemies. So I decided not to kill myself.” He knocked his head on the floor three times and sat up.

Akitada said, “I understand, and Hitomaro is right. I do need you.”

Tora said fervently, “I’ll remember next time, sir.” He paused for a moment. “About that mutilated body. I just happened to look at it with Hito and I saw a mark on his ear. It’s just like one on the dying man at the Golden Carp.”

Akitada made a sharp move of surprise and gasped, reaching for his wounded shoulder. “Call Hamaya,” he croaked.

Hamaya came in, followed by Hitomaro. “Hamaya,” Akitada said through gritted teeth, “Send for Dr. Oyoshi.” Three pairs of eyes widened with concern. “No, wait,” he corrected himself. “Tell him it’s about one of the bodies, and to meet us in the storehouse. Hitomaro, you can report on the way. Tora, help me up.”

He staggered to his feet, holding Tora’s arm to steady himself against a bout of dizziness. “It’s nothing,” he murmured, when he saw Tora’s white face. “Remember, it was the same when I was wounded in the capital? They say losing blood leaves emptiness in the head. In time it will fill again.”

Tora nodded but looked unhappy. While the three men walked slowly to the storeroom, Hitomaro reported on his visit to the judge’s villa. Akitada listened without comment.

Dr. Oyoshi joined them at the storehouse door. His face was colorfully bruised, but his eyes were bright. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked Akitada.

“I shall be better when we get to the bottom of all these mysterious killings. In each case, it seems to me, we lack one crucial piece of information. Now perhaps Tora has found one for us. I want you to listen to what he has to say about the mutilated man, because it may jog your memory.”

Hitomaro unlocked the door, and they stood around the corpse. Tora lifted the mat and explained about the ear, offering his theory about a secret society.

At Tora’s first words, Oyoshi grunted and knelt, looking closely at the dead man’s face, chest, and tongue. Straightening up with a sigh, he said, “Of course. I made a terrible mistake, sir. How could I have forgotten, when I saw the man myself just a few days earlier! Tora is quite right. It
is
the poor fellow at the inn. He was dying of lung disease.” He shook his head. “I am getting old and incompetent. Please, forgive my carelessness, sir. I understand that I have caused you embarrassment and that this disqualifies me as coroner.”

There was an awkward silence. Then Akitada said sharply, “Nonsense. You reminded us repeatedly that you were dissatisfied with the diagnosis.”

“But how could it be the same man?” Tora asked, astonished. “The one at the inn was old. He had gray hair.”

Oyoshi said, “Someone shaved his head. That can change a man’s appearance amazingly.”

“It explains why you didn’t recognize him, Doctor,” Hitomaro said. “Besides, his face is pretty much destroyed.”

Oyoshi shook his head. “It is kind of you to make excuses for an old man, but in my profession we do not consider a patient’s looks but the symptoms of his disease. Those I should have recognized.”

“Come,” said Akitada, touching his arm. “I have had enough of this ... this self-recrimination from all of you.” He pointed to the four bodies stretched on the floor, almost filling the small room. “Look at them! The nameless guest from the inn. The old servant Hideo. The thug Koichi. And now Kaibara. If you add Sato, the innkeeper, we have five unsolved cases. And a missing child. Why should you blame yourselves for minor mistakes, when I have failed so grossly and completely in my duty?” For a moment he swayed on his feet, and Tora put out an arm to steady him.

“You should not be up, sir,” scolded Oyoshi. “Come, back to your room with you. I insist on bed rest until tomorrow.”

Akitada protested in vain. They walked him to his office, where Tora and Hitomaro spread some bedding and brought him tea.

Akitada drank it meekly and smiled. “I must be thankful that Seimei is too sick himself to concoct one of his vile brews,” he joked feebly.

“I look forward to meeting him,” said Oyoshi. “I may have just the medicine to make him better.” He sat down next to Akitada and felt his forehead. “As for you, you’re slightly warm, but that may be due to exertion. Rest is essential. You must avoid overheating yourself. By the way, you may be certain now that the man from the inn was not murdered. He was dying when I saw him. Even if Mrs. Sato threw him into the street after my visit, she could not properly be held responsible for his death.”

“Yes.” Akitada chewed on his lower lip. “I admit that’s a disappointment. The woman is detestable. However, though she may not be responsible for his death, she knows something about the conspiracy and who mutilated the dead man. Let her try to talk her way out of that!” He glanced at Tora and Hitomaro, who were hovering nearby. “Sit down, both of you. It’s time for a council of war.”

When they had gathered around, Akitada said, “Hamaya, Seimei, and I have drawn up the documents appointing me high constable. Notices will be posted all over the city. This step will allow me to assume command over the garrison and declare a state of emergency if necessary. It may also convince the people that Uesugi power can be broken. I checked the law carefully and studied similar cases and believe the action is unusual but perfectly legal. The circumstances certainly make it necessary. We are trying to foil a conspiracy against imperial authority in this province.”

Hitomaro grunted. “That’s where that judge fits in, sir. Remember his talk about a new ruler? And Chobei is up to his neck in the plot of the mutilated corpse. I saw his face when we found the body at the gate. He’s working for Hisamatsu now, a man who has a whole library of Chinese texts and could have written the note that was pinned to the dead man. And that reminds me.” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a piece of paper. “I helped myself to a sample when I was in Hisamatsu’s house.”

Akitada took it and nodded. “It looks like the same paper. Have Hamaya compare it later. From what you told me about Hisamatsu it seems likely he wrote this, but he does not strike me as the sort of man who could organize a conspiracy of the complexity and seriousness of this one. There is more than a touch of madness here.”

The possibility of an uprising against the emperor was frightening. Without military support, they, were helpless to avert it. One thing seemed certain to Akitada: When he failed in his duties, he did so spectacularly. Freshly assigned to a post which had seemed an open door to rapid promotion, he was about to lose the province to the enemy. Unless they fled, they would also lose their lives, of course, but there was no point in dwelling on that detail.

Hiding his fears, he said, “Much depends on Captain Takesuke, of course, and on Uesugi himself. And let’s not forget Sunada. I wonder what that rascal’s part is in all of this, and what a small-time crook like Koichi wanted from him. A pity Kaibara is dead. He would have had answers. Who shot him? And why? His killer may have saved my life, but what if that was not his real purpose?” He frowned. “I wish there weren’t so many pieces missing. Do you know what this situation reminds me of? The shell matching game my sisters used to play. I feel that it’s my play and I don’t know which piece to turn over.”

Tora and Hitomaro looked blank, but Oyoshi nodded. “A very good comparison, sir.” He explained, “The shells are plain on the outside but hide pictures on the inside. For each picture there is a matching one in only one other shell. The object is to find the match. Well, sir, we have just matched our first shell by identifying the mutilated corpse. Will you let the other players know?”

“Yes, perhaps that is the logical next move. There will be a court hearing later. Tora, go tell Hamaya to make the arrangements.”

“But you are wounded,” protested Hitomaro.

Akitada refrained from pointing out that his shoulder was a small matter compared to their all being slaughtered by the Uesugi. “Never mind,” he said. “I shall rest till then. I’m perfectly capable of conducting a brief hearing. Tell Kaoru to have Mrs. Sato brought in.”

Oyoshi poured some tea and added one of his powders. Stirring, he said, “This should dull the pain a little and let you rest.”

Akitada smiled his thanks, swallowed the draft, and closed his eyes as the others stole from the room.

♦

The crowd in the hall was smaller and more subdued than last time, and they watched him intently. Akitada saw them through a haze. What Oyoshi had given him for the pain unfortunately made him see and hear everyone as if from a great distance. He also felt flushed and uncomfortably warm.

He began the session by announcing his new status. When the crowd began to buzz, he rapped his baton sharply, calling for the prisoners and the witnesses in the Sato case.

Kaoru knelt and reported that Mrs. Sato had claimed to be too ill to appear.

Akitada shifted irritably and winced. “Arrest her,” he said. The crowd whispered like wind rustling through dry grasses. He pulled himself together. “We will start with the fishmonger’s case.”

When two constables dragged in Goto, a new wave of excitement rippled through the onlookers. Goto was in chains but drew courage from them.

“This person,” he cried when he faced Akitada, “wishes to complain about the cruel treatment he’s received. I’m an honest citizen and pay my taxes, but I was beaten and chained, and then thrown in jail like a criminal. Me, a poor shopkeeper who’s never been in trouble with the law! Meanwhile my brother’s body lies someplace, cut to pieces, without a proper burial, and his killer is smiling while I suffer. Is that justice?”

The crowd buzzed their support. One of the constables kicked Goto in the back of the legs, shouting, “Kneel!”

Goto fell to his knees with a loud wail. The crowd became noisy.

“Silence!” Akitada shouted, rapping his baton again. He felt unaccountably weak and languid. He looked for Kaoru and saw that constables moved among the people to control them. Gradually it became quiet. Akitada turned his attention back to the fishmonger. “State the case against this man, Sergeant.”

Kaoro announced, “This man is called Goto and is a fishmonger in this city. He stands accused of having lied to this tribunal and of having falsely accused one Kimura of murder.”

“What? I never lied ...” Goto’s outraged protest died with a kick from his guard.

Kaoru continued impassively, “He identified a body found outside the tribunal gate three days ago as that of his brother Ogai, a soldier absent without leave from the local garrison.”