Black Arrow (39 page)

“You recently had a guest die at your inn?”

“Yes, your Excellency. The poor man died of a fever.” ‘

“What did you do with the body?”

“Why, the usual. I sent my stable boy to the temple to tell the monks to get it for the funeral. They did.”

“You saw them take it away?”

“No. I had much business to take care of after my husband’s death. They must have come in my absence.”

“How do you know this? Is there a servant who had instructions to turn over the corpse?”

She made a show of confusion. “I... I don’t really know what happened. We sent the message and left the body outside the gate to be picked up. Later it was gone. Naturally I assumed—”

“What do you mean, you assumed?” demanded Akitada. “It is illegal to dump corpses on the street as if they were so much garbage. It offends against every law of this nation. It offends our gods and the Buddha himself.”

She bowed her head. Then she prostrated herself, crying, “This poor widow admits her fault. Having lost a dear husband so recently and being burdened by grief and business worries and ignorant of legal matters, she has gravely offended. I beg your Excellency’s mercy.”

A sense of defeat settled into Akitada’s stomach and sickened him. She had outsmarted him again. He had no evidence that she had plotted with another person to make use of Kato’s corpse. He also knew better now than to call her servants to testify against her. The key witness in the murder case, the maid Kiyo, had changed her story. There was only one other move available to him. Though it might well turn out disastrous by involving Hitomaro, it could no longer be avoided.

He said, “You will pay a fine of five bars of silver to the court clerk and make an equal contribution to the local shrines and the Buddhist temple to appease the divine powers and give rest to the dead man’s soul.”

She murmured her thanks, then asked humbly, “May I go home now?”

“In a moment. I have some preliminary questions concerning your ordeal. Sergeant?” Kaoru stepped up and bowed. “Bring in the woman who is waiting outside.”

Mrs. Omeya, the perfect image of a respectable middle-aged matron in her black gown and patterned silk scarf, approached the dais calmly. She ignored curious stares from the crowd, but was visibly startled to see the widow there on her knees.

Kneeling next to the younger woman, she bowed and announced, “This insignificant person is called Omeya, widow and landlady in this city.”

Mrs. Sato gasped and turned. She pointed a trembling finger. “That’s the one! She’s the demon. She held me prisoner in her house.”

Mrs. Omeya’s mouth fell open.

“Please, Excellency,” cried the beauty, “make her tell you about the man who tortured and raped me at her house. She knows who he is.”

Mrs. Omeya looked at Akitada. He held his breath. She said, “What is she talking about? I don’t understand. What man? I thought you wanted to know about the maid.”

“The widow Sato,” Akitada informed her, “has accused you of forcing her to prostitute herself to a customer with a perverse taste for cruelty.”

“What?” cried Mrs. Omeya. “She has gone mad! Several months ago, a local gentleman of the highest reputation arranged to rent one of my rooms so he could meet her in private. But recently she took another lover. I warned her that she was playing a dangerous game, but she wouldn’t listen. Her regular patron is as normal in his tastes as you and me. And as for the other one ...”

The rest of her words were drowned out by Akitada’s baton and the young woman’s shrill cries, “Liar! Demon!”

Akitada could not proceed further without bringing Hitomaro into it. He announced, “The woman Omeya, having been accused of abduction and pandering, will remain jailed. The woman Sato will be released after paying her fines but is to appear again in court when called.” He rapped his baton three times to close the hearing, rose, and left the hall.

♦

Back at his desk, Akitada attempted to think through the shambles of this situation. He had accomplished nothing. The Sato woman, as deceitful a female as he had ever known, was aware of his intentions and fighting back. She had also once again won public sympathy.

Meanwhile, Uesugi continued to threaten with his troops, and Akitada was no closer to knowing the identity of all the conspirators, nor the precise extent of the conspiracy against the emperor or himself. He was nearly certain that it was not Uesugi who was pulling the strings. An undertaking of this magnitude required intelligence and careful planning, and his estimate of Uesugi was of a small local tyrant without enough brains or energy for such a task. Hisamatsu was somehow involved but seemed mentally even less equipped than Uesugi.

Akitada had already considered Abbot Hokko. Years ago, Akitada had encountered just such a conspiracy. That time, a corrupt Buddhist abbot had used his spiritual powers to recruit and train an army of soldier monks. Hokko was a very different type from Master Joto, but he was trusted and treated with respect by Uesugi and, as abbot of the largest temple and monastery in the province, he wielded great influence. However, in the meantime Hokko had warned him of the attack planned by Uesugi and suggested that Takesuke and the garrison would be loyal to the emperor.

He thought of the others who had been present at Uesugi’s banquet. Kaibara was dead, but there was still the troublesome merchant Sunada. He also wielded influence, though with the merchant class. From what Genba had reported, Sunada used thugs to guard his property and spent a good deal of his time in houses of assignation. There was the incident in which he had stabbed his alleged attacker and Akitada suspected him of being connected with local criminals, but neither fact linked him to Uesugi. True, the most recent developments had thrown a new light on Sunada, but Akitada was not ready to accept a mere merchant as the mastermind of such a plot.

There was another guest that night who qualified by both his intelligence and contact with the local community, but Akitada was even less happy with that thought. The trouble was, Akitada had taken him into his confidence without knowing his background. Oyoshi had cured his stomach trouble, but he was knowledgeable about herbs which could cause such complaints in the first place. What better way to win Akitada’s trust? Since then Oyoshi had raised serious suspicions. How, for instance, could he have failed to recognize the mutilated corpse of his former patient? And he could have told Kaibara about the secret exhumation of the late lord. For that matter, could his diagnosis be trusted? Akitada recalled vividly how Oyoshi had paled when Tora had mentioned a murderous physician.

He needed time and proof. The Omeya woman was his only hope at present. She was a witness against the widow—or Ofumi, as she had called herself there—and she also knew Ofumi’s patron. And Mrs. Omeya, at least, was safe and sound in Akitada’s jail.

In less than an hour, he learned differently. Tora burst into his office, crying, “The prisoner has hanged herself.”

When Akitada got to the jail, he was met by Oyoshi, who confirmed Mrs. Omeya’s death.

Akitada pushed past him and strode to the cell. The three other prisoners, Takagi, Okano, and Umehara, huddled fearfully in a corner of the main room. Kaoru was in the cell, bent over the inert body.

Mrs. Omeya looked much frailer in death. She was lying near the cell door, the cut pieces of her patterned silk scarf beside her.

“Kaoru found her and cut her down,” said Oyoshi, who had followed him. “Since I was in the kitchen with the others, I came at once. She must have hanged herself with her own scarf from one of those bars.” He pointed to a metal grille in the wooden cell door. Part of the scarf was still tied to the topmost bar.

Akitada said nothing. He tasted sour bile on his tongue, and his blood thrummed in his head like a large temple bell. He did not believe that she had committed suicide. She was innocent of the charges laid against her. He had meant to protect this woman—for purely selfish reasons, to be sure—but had instead hastened her death. His every action seemed to turn to disaster, not only for himself, but for those he came in contact with. If he could not guarantee the life of this one female for more than a few hours, how was he to govern a province? How, for that matter, was he to save himself and his wife and unborn child?

Oyoshi cleared his throat, and Akitada made an effort to pull himself together. Turning to Kaoru, he demanded, “How could this happen? Was she not being watched?”

The young sergeant looked wretched. “She seemed to calm down quickly, and after eating a bowl of soup, she lay down to sleep. So we all had our own dinner.”

Akitada looked from the cell of the dead woman to the outer room. The three prisoners stared back with pale faces. He noted absently that Okano was wrapped in some trailing purple stuff and clutched a large paper lantern. “Someone must have been close enough to see or hear what was happening,” he pointed out.

Kaoru shook his head. “We ate in the kitchen, sir.”

Akitada stared at him. “What? Everybody? There was no one in this jail except Mrs. Omeya and the prisoners?”

There was a pause. Then the sergeant said, “Just Mrs. Omeya, sir. Takagi, Okano, and Umehara were eating with us.”

Akitada clutched his head. This, too, was his fault, of course. He had known of the liberties the three had been given since Kaoru had taken over the administration of the jail. It had seemed humane at the time. Now it was one more example of his own unfitness for his office.

Kaoru was distraught. “You see, sir,” he tried to explain, “Umehara is the cook, and Takagi said it was his birthday today. So Okano offered to put on a little show. To celebrate Takagi’s birthday” When Akitada said nothing, Kaoru muttered, “I know it was against the rules, but we all thought the woman was asleep.”

“Did anyone leave the kitchen during your celebration?” Akitada asked tiredly.

A look of understanding flashed in Kaoru’s eyes. He paled, thought a moment, and said, “I cannot be certain. At one point, Okano wanted the lights out to do a lantern dance.”

Akitada turned to Oyoshi almost ferociously. “Well, Doctor? Was it suicide?”

Oyoshi winced. “Possibly,” he said.

“Are you just being mysterious or is something wrong?” Akitada snapped.

Oyoshi seemed to shrink within himself. “What I meant is that one can hang oneself in just this manner with the help of a thin garment and a handy hook or bar.”

Akitada went to look at the knot, then turned abruptly to kneel by the dead woman. He checked her face and throat. “There is a small bruise here,” he said, pointing.

“When she dropped, her temple may have hit the door,” Oyoshi suggested.

Akitada measured the distance between the grate and the floor with his eyes. “She is very short. Were her feet touching the floor when you found her, Kaoru?”

“Not quite, sir.”

“Why didn’t she use that stool over there?”

There was no answer.

Akitada picked up the cut scarf. He recalled how proudly she had worn it and sighed. “Hand me that chain over there, Kaoru, and help me measure.” Between them, they straightened the body and measured it. Then they held the marked piece of chain against the door. Akitada nodded. “As I thought. She could not have reached high enough to tie that knot, which is in any case on the outside of the grate.” He looked at Oyoshi. “Do you still think it likely that she committed suicide?”

Oyoshi regarded Akitada warily. “I thought it was possible.”

Akitada bent to spread the scarf over the dead woman’s distorted face. “I see,” he said. “Thank you.”

♦

After a cursory meal of rice and pickled vegetables shared with Tamako who, after one glance at her husband’s face, refrained from making conversation, Akitada sat alone in his office, sipping lukewarm wine and glumly considering his situation. Someone had murdered the Omeya woman in his own jail. The murderer had come into the jail, called the prisoner to the door, reached through to strangle her, and then hanged her from the grate. It had taken remarkable nerve, but this person had taken such risks before. Hitomaro’s testimony against the widow was now useless, and Akitada had lost his gamble. Neither an orderly retreat after resigning his office nor precipitate flight was possible, even had he been able to resort to such shameful solutions.