Read Rashomon Gate Online

Authors: I. J. Parker

Tags: #Mystery, #Mystery & Detective - General, #Detective and mystery stories, #Kyoto (Japan), #Historical Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Japan - History - Heian period; 794-1185, #American Mystery & Suspense Fiction, #Fiction - Mystery, #Detective, #General, #Historical - General, #Heian period; 794-1185, #Suspense, #Historical, #Japan, #Mystery Fiction, #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective - Historical, #Nobility, #History

Rashomon Gate (22 page)

In front of the central figure of Confucius stood two people. Akitada recognized the frail Tanabe, who was leaning on Nishioka's arm.

"What is going on?" he asked Kobe again as they approached the group. The smell was strong and repulsive. There was something horribly familiar about it.

Nishioka turned and said in a tight voice, "It's Oe! What a dreadful thing!"

"Oe?" Akitada followed Nishioka's glance to the statue of the sage and saw for the first time that it seemed to be draped in a voluminous, bulging blue robe. It also seemed to have grown a second head, drooping forward across its chest, and another set of arms, hanging limply. Then he saw the blood. Of course! He had smelled it, and excrement. The blood had streamed down from beneath the second head, a broad band of dark brown across the front of Oe's elegant blue robe. Blood and excrement mixed in a large puddle on the floor between Oe's neatly shod feet, and blood had run to the edge of the platform and dripped down, forming a second, smaller puddle on the polished floorboards. Shockingly, Oe's robe had fallen open. Apart from his white silk socks and black slippers, the dead man was completely nude underneath.

Kobe's sharp voice cut across Akitada's shock. "Two murders in two days," he said. "Within steps of each other. This one happened last night. I believe we have the killer already in custody. Not even you could believe that there are two separate homicidal maniacs loose in the university, Sugawara."

Akitada did not reply. His mind was reeling. Stepping up to the monstrous statue, he lifted the drooping head by its white topknot. Oe's sightless, bloodshot eyes stared back at him, his features distorted in death. The blood had poured from a deep gash nearly severing the head from the body. It was also apparent now what held the body upright. The killer had passed Oe's sash under his victim's armpits and slung it around the neck of the wooden figure of the sage. In death the body had slumped forward and the knees had buckled, but to a casual passerby its presence might not have been immediately noticeable in the dim hall.

As Akitada glanced down, he was struck again by the incongruity between the fine robe and neatly shod feet and the indecently exposed bulging stomach, the sagging folds of skin and the thin soiled legs with their varicose veins and age spots. Nudity, especially that of the elderly, negated the image of power and rank. Behind the pomp and circumstance was the reality of human frailty and imperfection. Someone had been at pains to reveal the real Oe to the eyes of the world.

Turning to his colleagues, Akitada asked, "Who found him?"

Tanabe was very pale and trembled. His lips moved but produced no sound. After a moment, Nishioka said, in an unnaturally subdued tone, "I did. It was a shock. Since there are no classes today, Professor Tanabe and I planned to spend the morning working on a new glossary for the
Analects
. I passed through the hall twice without noticing anything amiss. Then, the third time— I was returning a document to the library— I saw an odd reflection in a spot of sunlight." He looked at the shadowy dais. "It was midday then and the sun was just right. It came in through the open door. Anyway, something glistened. When I came closer, I noticed the smell, and then I found the blood on the dais. And . . . and then I looked up to see . . ." He broke off with a shudder. Tanabe patted Nishioka's hand with his own trembling fingers.

Akitada moved the body's arms and hands. They felt quite cold, and the stiffness which follows death had passed away already. The blood on the floor had congealed and no longer reflected light, and that on the robe was quite dry. Kobe was right. Oe had died during the night. Akitada turned to the captain. "I don't suppose you have had time to question people," he said briskly. "We must find out who was the last to see Oe alive."

Kobe, arms folded across his chest, looked grimly amused. "Since I am a mere police officer, I have been waiting for you. No doubt you will tell me how to proceed," he said, "whenever you are quite finished with your own investigation."

Akitada flushed. "I beg your pardon," he said stiffly. "I realize this is your case, but there are some things . . . ."He stopped. Perhaps it was better not to mention the details of Oe's involvement in the examination fraud or the blackmail letter at this time and in front of witnesses, so he continued, "Well, I have taken an interest in the student Nagai whom you seem to hold responsible for this murder also. Oe attended the poetry contest yesterday and became quite drunk and quarrelsome. He was led away early by his assistant Ono and a graduate student called Ishikawa. My colleague Professor Hirata was with them before they left the pavilion."

Kobe regarded him fixedly. "Your two colleagues here have already informed me of those facts. As you maintain your conviction that Nagai is innocent, can you provide a motive for the murder of this man?"

Akitada forced himself to meet Kobe's hostile eyes calmly. "I cannot suggest anything at this time. But your theory that Nagai has somehow run mad and killed the girl one day and his professor the next does not make sense. For one thing, the young man was quite lucid when I talked to him this morning. For another, the girl was strangled, while Oe's throat was slashed. That suggests two different killers, particularly since a sash was available in this instance also. Look." Akitada pointed to the brocade belt which held the body up. "This sash was used in order to create a macabre and shameful public display. The other sash was removed from the scene, and the girl was hidden in the reeds. Surely that suggests two very different mentalities."

Kobe was unimpressed. "Not necessarily. The first crime may have made the killer feel so powerful that he decided to show off a little the second time. As to the slashed throat, Oe is much bigger and stronger than the girl. A knife or sword was a safer way of killing him than strangulation."

Akitada saw the reasonableness of the argument. Pulling his earlobe, he nodded slowly. "I still don't see Nagai acting in this fashion, but I suppose you are right about Oe's size," he said grudgingly. "Even drunk he would not stand still for a strangler. But why would the killer remove the man's trousers and string him up like this?" Akitada wandered to the back of the statue to look at the knot in the sash.

"Exactly!" Nishioka cried.

Kobe scowled at him, and Nishioka's mouth snapped shut. Kobe remarked, "A perverted sense of juvenile humor, I would say."

Tanabe spoke up for the first time. "It is a frightful sacrilege to the temple." His voice quavered. "Who would dare dishonor our patron saint in this fashion? It must have been the act of a madman or a depraved person."

Akitada nodded. "It is quite extraordinary behavior. I wonder what happened to Oe's trouser skirt . . . and his loincloth. He was in formal court dress last night." He glanced around the hall, then said to Kobe, "No doubt you will order a search, and you had better speak immediately to Ono and Ishikawa. They were closer to him than any of the rest of us, apart from being the last to see him alive. Incidentally, I have promised Nagai that I will help him, so I expect we will meet in the future."

Kobe's face was flushed with anger. "Are you finished?" he asked in a tight voice. "Or are there more instructions?" He stepped up closely to Akitada and glared into his face. "You have no authority here, and I will see you when you are needed in the investigation, not otherwise. Is that clear? I don't need your advice, now or in the future, and you are wasting your time on Nagai. I've got him for the murder of the girl, whatever turns up on this case. And if you think he's clear because the beggar Umakai didn't recognize him, don't be too sure. The old man is senile. He probably just dreamed the whole Jizo thing."

However much he resented the dressing-down, Akitada was most troubled by the news that Umakai was free. "I shall refrain from making any more suggestions," he said stiffly, "but I am concerned about the old man's safety. You yourself pointed out that the killer may find him. Can your men keep an eye on him for a few days more?"

Kobe threw back his head and laughed aloud— the sound echoed in the silent hall, and Tanabe jumped a little. "You forget. There's no need: we've got the girl's killer in jail. Besides, the police have better things to do than follow every beggar around."

Akitada was about to respond sharply, when a new voice interrupted.

"August heaven! What an abomination!" Wrinkle-faced and skeletal, Takahashi inserted himself into the group and stared up at the bloody body suspended from the neck of the sage. "It is absolutely grotesque! But how typical. Even in death Oe had to make a spectacle of himself."

"Who are
you
? " growled Kobe, glaring at Takahashi.

"Oh, I'm Takahashi. Mathematics. I suppose you have taken Fujiwara into custody for the murder?"

"What?" roared Kobe. "Who the devil is Fujiwara?"

"Oh, you mean they haven't told you?" Takahashi looked from Nishioka and Tanabe to Akitada, shook his head and
tsk
ed. "That was not very forthcoming of you, gentlemen," he said. "After all, in a case of murder one has a duty . . . however, I digress. Fujiwara is another of our little group of academicians. Professor of history with a flair for poetry, drinking and brawls. The latter hobby is what will interest you, Captain. He and Oe slugged it out last night. Or rather, Oe slugged Fujiwara. In public." Takahashi nodded towards the body. "One assumes Fujiwara settled the score later."

Kobe looked at Akitada. "Is that true?"

"There was a minor incident," Akitada said, "but Fujiwara made it quite clear to everyone that he did not consider Oe accountable. Oe was too drunk to know what he was doing. You can ask others." Akitada shot Takahashi a disapproving look, and added firmly, "In my view the incident was too minor to be a motive for murder, and Fujiwara is hardly the type to commit this kind of assault."

"Is he another one of your protégés? That certainly tells me something. And I don't bother with what 'type' a man is," snapped Kobe. "A simple person like myself is quite satisfied with motive, opportunity and perhaps a few pieces of hard evidence."

Nishioka bristled. "But you cannot simply ignore—"

"Hush!" Professor Tanabe squeezed his arm, and then told Kobe politely, "Captain, we have notes to put in order before tomorrow. May we be excused?"

Kobe hesitated. He looked at all of them suspiciously, then said, "Very well. You can all go for the time being, but no one is to leave the university without my permission. I'll get to the bottom of this in spite of all of your interference."

Back at the law school, Akitada found Hirata waiting for him. He was pacing back and forth, looking anxious. Akitada suppressed his distaste when he saw the older man's strained face. Hirata asked, "Have you heard the rumor? Oe has been murdered."

"It is no rumor. I am just coming from the Temple of Confucius. Someone slashed his throat and tied his body to the statue of Confucius. It must have happened last night, after he left the competition. Captain Kobe is in a filthy mood. I suppose he thinks there is some sort of conspiracy brewing here, and that I am in the middle of it. He did not take kindly to my visit to the jail and I managed to irritate him more."

"Oh, dear! Tied to the statue of Confucius, you say? It is incredible!" Hirata wrung his hands. "Does he suspect anyone in particular?"

"Poor Nagai is still his prime suspect— on the theory that both murders must have been committed by the same person. I tried to change his mind, but I am afraid that my attempt merely made him suspicious and added all of us to his list of possible assassins."

"Well, it certainly cannot be Hiroshi. Oe never paid the least attention to the poor fellow. He thought him too ugly and ill-born to be of any consequence or promise. And what motive could Hiroshi possibly have? There are other people who had much better cause to kill Oe."

"Precisely. And it won't take Kobe long to work that out. Do you have some wine or tea? I am parched."

Hirata led the way to his office. It was one of the small rooms under the sloping eaves, between the classroom and the veranda overlooking the gravelled courtyard. Here Hirata had gathered all his teaching tools: law books, rolled up maps and diagrams, the Chinese classics, the
Analects
, Prince Shotoku's legal reforms and innumerable stacks of student essays. These were labelled by year, and Akitada could only guess at the devotion of a man who preserved the efforts of generations of students.

Hirata pointed to the cushion lying near his low desk, and brought a small pitcher of wine and two cups. On the desk stood a pale porcelain vase with a single pink peony blossom. Its scent filled the small room.

Akitada held his cup, staring at the flower, its ruffled petals perfectly shaped, its color deepening to rose near the center. Tamako must have selected and cut this flower for her father only this very morning. A lump formed in his throat. Resentful that everything seemed to conspire to remind him of her, he drank deeply and then said, "In any case, the student could not have killed Oe. He is not strong enough."

Hirata looked surprised. "Not strong enough to slash a man's throat? I grant you he is thin, but young and sinewy."

Other books

Kiss in the Dark by Lauren Henderson
Rise of the Heroes by Andy Briggs
Watch for Me by Moonlight by Jacquelyn Mitchard
Small Town Sinners by Melissa Walker
Sweet Mystery by Emery, Lynn
Black Tide by Del Stone
El antropólogo inocente by Nigel Barley
Caligula: A Biography by Aloys Winterling