The Fires of the Gods (27 page)

Read The Fires of the Gods Online

Authors: I. J. Parker

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Historical, #Historical Detective, #Ancient Japan

THE RUNAWAY

 

F
rom the Kiyowara residence, Akitada walked to police head-quarters, where he hoped he might still find Kobe. There was no particular rush, since with Lady Aoi there was no fear of flight or other aggression, but he wanted to see if he could get Tojiro released.

Kobe was in, eyes bloodshot and puffy and hands shaking with fatigue.

‘You need sleep,’ said Akitada, who wasn’t exactly feeling rested himself.

Kobe ran a hand over his face as if he meant to wipe away the signs of exhaustion. ‘I intend to go home shortly. That is, unless you bring more work.’

Akitada smiled. ‘I hope not. Or rather, it won’t be pressing. I bring you a third confession.’

Kobe threw up his hands. ‘Why is everybody so eager to take credit for Kiyowara’s death?’

‘His conduct made many enemies. If the oppressed are systematically tormented by the strong, they take pride in their revenge.’

Kobe sighed. ‘I was joking. Who is it this time?’

‘Lady Aoi, Lady Kiyowara’s cousin.’

‘The shrine virgin? But why would she make such a claim? Never mind. She’s said to be slightly mad. Surely you did not believe her?’

‘She is far from mad, and I do believe her. Kiyowara raped her the night before she killed him. A woman like Lady Aoi
does not allow her honor to be defiled without avenging herself. She spoke up when she heard of Tojiro’s confession. She saw him leaving Kiyowara’s study and found Kiyowara inside, just getting up from where he had fallen. It seems he only cut the back of his head when Tojiro pushed or hit him. She confronted him with the rape, and Kiyowara taunted her. She says she used a stone from the garden to hit him and that she continued to hit him until he was dead. How does that fit with your coroner’s opinion?’

Kobe nodded slowly. ‘It fits. It fits exactly. He had a minor wound to the back of the head, which was little more than a cut. It bled. Then there were larger, rounded wounds to the front: to his forehead, face, and temple. Some of those bled also. The wounds to the front of his head, according to the doctor, killed him.’ He fell into abstracted thought. ‘This is difficult,’ he muttered. ‘We cannot arrest her. As a shrine virgin, she is under the emperor’s authority.’

‘Well, perhaps you could claim that Kiyowara fell and injured himself. That is at least partially true.’

Kobe frowned. ‘I shall have to report the truth and leave the decision up to His Majesty.’

‘Well, then. Can we let Tojiro go?’

Kobe raised his brows. ‘What about the fire setting?’

‘I’ve begun to have some doubts about that also. What does he say?’

‘He confirmed that the boys worked for Watanabe, but that was all.’ Kobe got to his feet with a groan. ‘Come, let’s go see him now.’

Akitada hesitated. ‘It can wait.’

‘I won’t sleep until this whole business is unraveled.’

They walked across to the jail. At the gate, they found Fuhito peering inside as if his gaze could bring forth his grandson. He was leaning against a pillar and looked terrible. His face was tear-streaked.

Akitada stopped. ‘Major-domo? What are you doing here?’

Fuhito started. ‘Oh. It’s you, sir. They’ve arrested Tojiro and won’t let me see him. I told them that it was I who killed Lord Kiyowara. Please, sir, would you see what you can do?’

Kobe said irritably, ‘It would be helpful if both of you stayed with the truth. Your lie won’t help your grandson.’

Fuhito looked at him, taking in the uniform and the rank
insignia. He bowed. ‘Begging your pardon, sir, but my grandson is innocent. The fault is mine alone.’

‘Nonsense. Both of you lied to protect the other. Neither you nor your grandson killed Kiyowara.’

Fuhito turned absolutely white. His knees buckled, and he sat down abruptly in the dirt. Akitada bent to help him up and found that the old man trembled violently.

‘Is it true?’ he asked, clutching at Akitada’s hands. ‘It is not a trick?’

‘It’s not a trick.’

Fuhito staggered up. ‘But who? And how?’

Kobe looked at Akitada and shook his head slightly.

Akitada said, ‘When Tojiro struck his father, he fell and hit his head. He was unconscious, and the boy panicked. I think, later, your grandson decided that you must have gone to finish the job. Both of you thought the other was the murderer.’

‘I believed him.’ Fuhito ran a trembling hand over his face, wiping away the tears. ‘And I found the body.’

‘Someone else went in to speak to Lord Kiyowara after Tojiro left.’

Fuhito frowned. ‘But— ‘ He stopped when he saw Kobe’s face.

Akitada said, ‘I think you’d better tell him.’

Kobe glowered at Fuhito. ‘If you tell anyone, I’ll have you and your grandson thrown in jail for lying.’

Fuhito raised both hands. ‘I don’t want to know, sir.’

Akitada said, ‘You will have to know or you’ll think a terrible injustice was done. Lady Aoi confessed to killing Lord Kiyowara because he raped her.’

Fuhito’s hands still shook a little and he tucked them under his arms. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Oh, I see.’ He shook his head. ‘Terrible. What will happen to Tojiro?’

Kobe said, ‘There is still the matter of your grandson setting fires. We were about to ask him about that. You can come along.’

A guard unlocked Tojiro’s cell. They found him sitting with his elbows on his knees on some old straw mats. Nearby stood a slop bucket. The boy was chained to the wall.

When he saw them, and his grandfather with them, he got to his feet. ‘I’m sorry for what I’ve done, Grandfather,’ he said quickly. ‘Please do not concern yourself.’

Fuhito sobbed as he went to take the boy in his arms. ‘Hush, Tojiro,’ he said. ‘You did not kill your father. And neither did I.’

Tojiro looked astonished and checked with Akitada and Kobe. Akitada nodded, but Kobe said, ‘You have been cleared of the murder charge, but there are many other things still to be explained.’ He glanced at the stinking slop bucket. ‘In my office. Guard, take his chains off.’

They gathered in Kobe’s office, along with a clerk to take notes. Fuhito could not stop weeping, but he did so silently, wiping his face surreptitiously with his sleeve.

Kobe began the questioning. ‘What is your true name?’

‘Kiyowara Tojiro.’

Akitada produced the amulet in its silk bag and tossed it to Tojiro. ‘This is yours. Given to you by Abbot Shokan. What happened to your religious name?’

Tojiro flushed. He did not touch the amulet. ‘I took back my own name. I’m not cut out to be a monk.’

Kobe snapped, ‘That’s pretty obvious, considering you went straight from the monastery to a life of crime.’

Tojiro shook his head. ‘I never committed a crime.’

‘What about the people you associated with? Koichi and his family are involved in the protection racket. And those youths you ran around with did worse than that. They have tortured and killed people.’

Tojiro shot his grandfather an uneasy glance. ‘Seiji and Ako gave me a place to stay after I ran away. And Koichi and Haru were good to me. I didn’t know at first that Takeo was… Well, that he could be violent and that he was a thief. Koichi only collects payment for services. That’s no crime.’

Kobe snorted. ‘What happens when a client doesn’t pay?’

Tojiro said uncertainly, ‘Nothing. He doesn’t get protection.’

‘And then he finds out just how badly he needs it, right?’

Tojiro looked away. ‘It wasn’t Koichi who set the fires. That was Takeo. Koichi punished him when he found out, and Takeo left home. Koichi was very angry.’ He paused. ‘After Takeo left, Koichi asked me to find out what he was up to.’

Kobe expressed his disbelief with another snort of derision.

Akitada asked, ‘Was it on one of those occasions that you ran into Tora and robbed him?’

Fuhito sucked in his breath sharply. ‘Tojiro?’ he asked. ‘Did you do that?’

Tojiro cried, ‘No, Grandfather. It wasn’t like that. I’d been following Takeo and his friends. I saw them set that fire, and
they saw me. I didn’t want them to catch me. That’s when I ran into someone and we both fell down. I was picking up his coins to give them back, but he grabbed me before I could do so. Then the others came and I ran.’

Fuhito growled, ‘What happened to the coins?’

Tojiro looked down at his clenched hands. ‘They caught me on the next street and took the money away from me. I let them think that I’d been stealing so they’d believe I’d become one of them.’ He looked up at Akitada. ‘I’ll return the money. All of it. Tell your man I’ll find work and pay it all back.’

Fuhito pleaded, ‘He’s not a bad boy. He’s just fallen into bad company, and that is my fault. Could you accept his promise and mine that the money will be returned?’

Akitada nodded. ‘But that doesn’t clear him in the matter of the arson.’

Tojiro cried, ‘I told you. I was only watching them. Koichi was worried about Takeo.’

Kobe pursed his lips. ‘As your grandfather said, you kept bad company. Why should we believe you? Running away from a monastery is one thing, but most boys would go home to their parents and not join a gang of criminals.’

Fuhito covered his face. ‘I abandoned him,’ he sobbed. ‘I told him I would not take him back, that he had to return to Seikan-ji and be a man. That his future depended on it.’

Kobe greeted that with a doubtful, ‘Hmmm.’

Akitada asked, ‘Why could you not stay at Seikan-ji as your grandfather had asked you to? You were treated well and got a good education, didn’t you?’

Tojiro glanced at his weeping grandfather, then at Akitada. ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ he said dully. ‘I had to get away. I cannot be a monk. Nobody liked me. Every day they told me I must prepare myself to give up the world, that the world is nothingness and corruption and misery. But I knew better.’

Akitada suppressed a smile. When he was Tojiro’s age he, too, had run away. He had run from an authoritarian father and a cold and hostile mother to find affection elsewhere. He said, ‘Abbot Shokan expressed a great fondness for you,’ letting Tojiro interpret his words.

Tojiro moved his shoulders uncomfortably. ‘He was all right,’ he conceded. ‘Only, that made everyone else hate me the more.’

Akitada and Kobe made eye contact. Akitada willed the
superintendent to be generous, and after a moment, Kobe said, ‘Will you help us bring the guilty to justice?’

Fear flashed in Tojiro’s eyes. ‘I’ll give you the names of Takeo and his friends, but I’m not getting Koichi and Haru in trouble.’

‘Takeo is dead, and we already have Koichi and his daughter. We need the other boys.’

Tojiro jumped up. ‘You’ve arrested Koichi and Haru? They haven’t done anything. I told you. Koichi only collects fees for a man who’s served in the eastern armies. His name is Sergeant Umako. Sergeant Umako keeps small merchants safe from criminals, and they pay him a small fee every month. Besides, he and Haru own the Fragrant Peach in the western city. It’s Takeo who’s been trouble, not his family.’

Akitada and Kobe exchanged looks again. Kobe smiled. ‘Koichi and his two deaf mute friends work an illegal racket. If those merchants don’t pay their fees, someone burns down their houses.’

‘No. You’re wrong.’ Tojiro clenched his hands and looked from one to the other. ‘I know better. They’re not criminals. I told you I’ve been staying with Seiji and Ako. Ako’s married to Seiji.’

Fuhito sighed deeply. ‘Because I told my grandson that I would not take him back the next time he ran away, he went to my daughter’s former maid, Ako. I did not know she was married.’

Tojiro said, ‘They were kind to me. You just don’t know how hard it is for people like them. They’re good people.’

‘Hmmm,’ muttered Kobe, looking from the distraught boy to his distraught grandfather. ‘Whatever they are, I think we’ll turn you over to your grandfather for the time being. Just don’t run away again or I’ll see to it that you go to trial.’

Fuhito threw himself on his knees before Kobe. ‘You may take my life if Tojiro escapes or does any mischief whatsoever. Tojiro, show your gratitude!’

Tojiro, looking a little confused, knelt and bowed.

Akitada cleared his throat. ‘Good, that settles that. Can I rely on your visiting the abbot together to explain the situation and apologize?’

Tojiro nodded, and Fuhito said, ‘Yes, of course. It is all my fault anyway. I am very sorry that His Reverence has been troubled.’

Akitada thought of Fuhito’s old mother, and of the empty house in its beautiful garden. Three lives had been salvaged. Of
course, their future was by no means clear. But there was hope that the friendship between the two sons of the late Kiyowara might bridge the gulf their father had created, and perhaps the new lord would make use of Fuhito’s learning and help his brother rise in the world.

EPILOGUE

 

T
owards the end of the summer, the political disarray that had begun when Michinaga relinquished his powers to his sons finally sorted itself out, but none of that affected Akitada. In the general amnesty in honor of Michinaga’s service to the nation, Koichi and the others were freed.

Lord Kiyowara’s death was officially due to a fall. Of all the news that circulated, only one rumor was of interest: Lady Kiyowara’s cousin Aoi had asked for imperial permission to resign her shrine duties and return to her family, and this had been granted.

One day, not long after Koichi and his daughter had been freed, Kobe sent Akitada a note that the police had found the rice merchant Watanabe hanging from one of the rafters and his wife dead from strangulation. Watanabe had left a letter explaining that he was taking this way out for himself and his wife because he could not face the shame of his actions. He claimed that some of the fires had been set on his orders because certain merchants owed him money or had in some other way offended him, but that the youths soon discovered the fires caused enough distraction to allow them to steal money and valuables from empty houses.

On the surface, this sounded believable, but Akitada would always believe that a high-ranking nobleman had ordered the fires to influence the succession. It would have been easy enough to force Watanabe’s suicide before he could talk to the police.

Justice is frequently elusive.

Akitada concentrated on his own problems. Crews were clearing away the construction debris around his new stables. Reconstruction had been speedy, thanks to Lady Kiyowara’s final payment. The small house belonging to Tora and his family was
already finished, and Hanae was busy moving in new household goods and furnishings.

Tamako’s pavilion had been cleaned, and thick new mats covered the floor where Takeo had died. Fortunately, Akitada’s wife was not given to imaginary terrors and had moved back in with baby Yasuko and her maid.

Into this satisfactory state of affairs rode the censor Minamoto Akimoto with a small retinue of uniformed imperial guards. The workers dropped their tools and gaped. An excited Trouble chased, barking, around the horses, causing half of them to shy. It was a while before the dog was caught and Akitada could properly welcome the old warrior.

He did so with fear in his heart. He had been lulled into a sense of security even though the censors were not done with him.

Still, Akimoto was smiling, so perhaps the news was not all bad.

Akitada took him to his study, where Seimei was working on the accounts. Seimei excused himself, and Akimoto looked around at all the books generations of Sugawaras had accumulated. He said, ‘You must be a remarkably learned man. It grieves me all the more that you should have been treated so shabbily.’

Perhaps this was just a kindness before giving bad news. Akitada said, ‘Bookishness does not compare with military service, Lord Akimoto. The nation is deeply indebted to men like you. I merely shuffle papers.’

Akimoto cocked his head. ‘You do yourself a disservice. I have read the documents describing your service very carefully, and it seems to me that you are no stranger to the sword yourself.’

It was generous, especially from a man who had spent his life on battlefields, but Akitada shook his head. ‘That was never by choice, sir. And I was younger then.’

The much older Akimoto chuckled.

Seimei returned with wine and served them. Akitada was glad that some of the good wine was left. The rebuilding had once again brought them to the brink of penury.

Akimoto sipped appreciatively. ‘You must forgive me,’ he said. ‘I should have said right away that I’ve come on official business for the Censors’ Bureau, and that you have been cleared of the charges against you.’

Akitada, slightly dazed with relief, refilled the wine cups. ‘Thank you, sir. That is very good of you, but surely personal visits are not part of your duties.’

‘I volunteered. Somebody has to apologize, and I find that the older you get, the easier this becomes.’ He chuckled again. ‘The others were embarrassed, and our esteemed chairman withdrew in a huff.’

Akitada, remembering the pompous young Fujiwara, laughed. ‘I had prepared myself for dire news. Apart from the birth of a little daughter, I seem to have tumbled from one disaster to the next lately.’

Akimoto raised his cup. ‘My felicitations. To your little daughter and your lady wife.’

They drank, smiling at each other. ‘It seems I’m a very lucky man after all,’ Akitada said.

‘I bring other good news also. You have been reinstated at the ministry. I made a point of seeing your minister to report the findings of the censors. He was distraught over what happened to you and begs you to return. Official word should reach you soon.’

Akitada was glad, but then he remembered Kobe, whose position was in danger because he had tried to help him. ‘By any chance, is there news about Superintendent Kobe?’ he asked.

Akimoto said, ‘Kobe is to be reconfirmed in his position by the new administration.’

Perhaps it was too much good news, thought Akitada as he climbed the steps to the Ministry of Justice a week later. He would find it impossible to work under Munefusa, but a man with a family to support must make sacrifices.

It was late in the morning, and the hallways of the ministry were empty. Akitada went first to Munefusa’s old office, assuming it would be his, but here he found a stranger busily writing notes on a document. The man looked up with a frown. Akitada apologized and went to see the minister.

The minister’s secretary was another stranger. What had happened to Munefusa? When Akitada gave his name, the secretary bowed quite deeply and went to announce him.

Fujiwara Kaneie came out himself to receive Akitada. He was smiling, but clearly embarrassed. Akitada felt much the same. He owed the man an apology for his extremely rude behavior.

Kaneie took him into his office and poured some wine that was standing ready.

‘My dear Akitada,’ he said, ‘it is good to have you back.’ He managed to sound both sincere and apologetic.

Akitada steeled himself for his own apology. ‘I behaved atrociously to you, sir, and beg your pardon for my rash words. I assure you, I regretted them as soon as I left this room.’

Kaneie gave a nervous laugh. ‘Not at all. You were very angry. I should not have blamed you for that. I, too, regret what I said.’ He paused a moment, then added, ‘You know, I would have explained if I had been allowed to do so. Even now, my dear Akitada, I am restrained from speaking. It was all very unpleasant, and I was extremely relieved when new instructions arrived, rescinding the earlier orders. Please allow me to apologize on behalf of my superiors.’

‘Thank you, sir. I’m very glad to have your trust again.’ He hesitated. ‘But I’m not quite sure what the arrangements are. There was a stranger in my office.’

Kaneie looked puzzled. ‘A stranger? Munefusa should have left your old office ready for you.’ He shook his head. ‘That man, Akitada. You can have no notion what a horrible muddle he made of things. We had some very difficult cases, and I think all the findings will have to be rewritten. I would have fixed matters, but you know I have no head for the finer points of the law. You have been missed.’

‘Where is Munefusa?’

‘Munefusa and a number of clerks have been dismissed. It seems he was second cousin to Kiyowara Kane and gold changed hands to… umm… contrive false charges against you. Munefusa will face the censors.’ He added, ‘There are all sorts of rumors. I hear the Minister of the Right will resign – officially as part of the reorganization of Michinaga’s retirement, but he is a known enemy of the crown prince.’ Fujiwara Kaneie smiled and got up briskly. ‘But all is finally back to normal here. Come and let me introduce you to your staff.’

The news stunned Akitada. So his demotion had not been some dark plot directed at him by his unknown enemies. It had merely been due to a greedy upstart using his personal connections to advance himself. He was not sure if that made it better.

His ‘staff’ consisted of three men: two junior clerks and one senior. The juniors were recent graduates and looked pleasant
enough. The senior was well known to him. He was Shinkai, the same elderly man who had run after him to express his regrets the day Akitada had been dismissed. This pleased Akitada until he saw the enormous, nearly toppling stacks of documents on his desk.

‘Umm, yes,’ said the minister, ‘I’m afraid things have stacked up a bit under Munefusa.’

As if he had heard his name called, the door opened and Munefusa himself appeared. He paled when he saw them and attempted to retreat.

‘Come in, Munefusa,’ snapped the minister. ‘I expect you wish to apologize to Akitada for your unconscionable lies about him.’

Munefusa inched in and bowed. He flushed and avoided looking at Akitada. ‘I did not know Lord Sugawara would be here,’ he said. ‘I came for my notes.’ He swallowed and added in a murmur, ‘I shall need them to refresh my memory.’

‘Ah, yes,’ said the minister. ‘When will you appear before the censors?’

Munefusa mumbled something inaudible and scurried to a shelf to pick up a thin book. He dashed back to the door so quickly that he tripped over his feet and nearly fell out of the room.

They all burst into laughter.

Akitada returned home full of the good news and found that his house had been decorated with many-colored flags and sheets that fluttered gaily in the summer breeze. They turned out to be clothes and blankets of all sorts. Apparently, Tamako had decided to air out the clamminess left by the recent rains.

He found her working among the clothes chests with her maid and told her his news.

‘Really?’ she said, distracted. ‘I suppose that means you’ll be away from home again every day.’ Realizing that her response was less than warm, she gave her husband a radiant smile. ‘I’ve become accustomed to having you around.’

Akitada spied the baby Yasuko abandoned in a half-emptied trunk and went to pick her up.

‘Oh,’ said Tamako, ‘would you mind very much entertaining your daughter for a little?’

‘Not at all.’ He cradled the baby in his arms, smiling down
at her. ‘It will be an honor.’ But then the seriousness of this responsibility struck him. ‘What shall I do if she starts crying?’

‘Oh, Akitada,’ his wife teased, ‘how can you be so nervous when she is your second child? In any case, I just fed her. She’ll be asleep soon.’

He carried his daughter carefully to his room, decided it was too dark and dull for a child and snatched up his bedding roll with one hand before walking out on to the veranda. There, in the shade of the sun-warmed wall of the house, he made a little nest of the quilt and placed her inside. Then he sat down next to his daughter to admire her. She gazed back calmly, pursing rosebud lips.

What was she thinking of her father with his long face and beetling brows? She did not look frightened, but detached, as if waiting to see if he would prove acceptable.

He pointed to the garden, the sky, a small bird on a branch, telling her about them. He promised her that some day they would feed the goldfish in his pond together.

She appeared to listen, but remained distant – or so it seemed to him. Not knowing how to bridge the gulf, he sighed.

Then he remembered his flute. The memory brought sadness because he had played it for Yori’s departed spirit right here on this veranda. But his little son had loved the sound of the flute from the time he was an infant.

Akitada went to get it. Sitting back down beside Yasuko, he played a few soft notes and saw her eyes widen. He tried a happy little melody, and the pursed mouth relaxed, a dimple appeared in her cheek, and her eyes crinkled at the corners. She made a soft gurgling sound. Could this be a smile? An almost laugh?

He lowered the flute, but the baby frowned. The corners of her mouth turned downward.

Quickly, he raised the flute again and played and, yes, the smile returned. A genuine smile! She was smiling at him. No question about it.

Filled with pride and happiness, he played song after song until long after his daughter had fallen asleep.

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