I. Parker - The Crane Pavillion

Saburo was beginning to enjoy himself. Any moment now, the monkey would say the other man’s name, confirming that silky voice was indeed Kanemoto. Tora could take this information to the police.

There was a loud crash above, and then the weasel screamed shrilly. This was followed by more crashes and the sound of blows. The screams went on, interspersed with “Shut up, you piece of dung. You’re not going to forget this.”

Saburo’s pleasure faded. Listening to another human being beaten to a pulp brought back bad memories. He was tempted to cover his ears but did not want to miss some crucial information.

The monkey shrieked, “Stop hitting me or I’ll …”

The blows ceased.

“You’ll do what?”

The monkey sobbed, “Nothing. I meant nothing, Kanemoto-sama.”

“Are you threatening me with the police? And what would happen to you then, scum?” asked the voice, silky once again.

Sounding desperate now, the monkey said, “I’ll go to jail rather than be beaten to death by you.”

Saburo almost applauded.

He did not hear the gangster’s response, because a woman’s voice called out, “What’s going on, Kanemoto? What’s all the screaming?”

Her refined nasal, singsong intonation marked her as a courtesan, one of the women in the quarter who had climbed to the top of their trade.

Kanemoto, finally identified, said, “It’s nothing, my love. Go back to bed. Just some business I have to take care of.”

He sounded different now. His voice was soft and the tone almost pleading. Saburo was not surprised when the woman did not obey. He heard the sound of a door sliding open and an exclamation of disgust. “Ugh! Who’s that? He’s been bleeding all over your gown and the floor.”

Before Kanemoto could react, the pathetic monkey made his next move. He wailed, “Lady Suzaku, dearest, kindest lady, most beautiful lady of the willow quarter! Please help me. I’ve done nothing.”

She squealed, “Don’t touch me, you filthy animal.”

There was the sound of another blow, followed by a groan, and Kanemoto snapped, “Stay away from her, you hear?” Then he added to the woman, “The bastard let himself be caught cheating at dice. Someone chased him, and the stupid fool led them straight to my house.”

The woman sucked in her breath sharply. “He’ll go to the warden, or even the police. They’ll come here. I’m leaving. I should never have come. You’re poison, Kanemoto.”

Kanemoto cried, “Don’t go, dearest. Nobody will come, and if they do, they’ll find nothing. Sweetheart, I’ll pay your debts.”

Below, in the darkness, Saburo shook his head. Even gangsters were fools about women.

She said, “I can’t come here again, but if I had a little place of my own, you could come to me. Away from the quarter. Someplace we can be together safely.”

Kanemoto pleaded, “I’ll find it. Only don’t leave me.”

“You must make sure he doesn’t talk. If he talks …”

They fell silent, but suddenly the monkey started sobbing and pleading again, his voice indistinct with panic.

Then Saburo heard a gurgling sound and the wild tapping of feet on the floor above, then a heavy thud and silence.

For a moment, he was unsure what had happened.

The woman said, “Pah! He pissed all over the floor. It’s disgusting. You could have waited until I’d gone.”

Kanemoto, panting slightly, replied, “Come, my dear. Surely you’re used to watching men die in your arms. Love and death, it’s all much the same.”

Saburo felt nausea rising. They’d killed the poor bastard! He heard the rustling of a gown, a door slid open above, and she was gone. Kanemoto muttered. A scraping, sliding noise followed. The gangster was moving the monkey’s body.

Saburo was still sickened by what he had heard, but he waited, curious to see how a gangster disposed of inconvenient corpses.

When the sounds above faded, Saburo crept back to the opening. It showed as a paler rectangle in the darkness and he hurried. Halfway there, he touched something warm and lashed out. Some creature spat, hissed, and attacked. Suddenly claws were imbedded in his face. The shock and pain almost made him cry out, but if Kanemoto found him, he would surely get rid of him also. So he fought silently, grasping the furry beast and pulling it from his head. It resisted viciously. In his distress and in the dark, it seemed to be a tiger. Eventually, he got his hands around the animal’s throat and squeezed. Before it went limp, its four claws tore at his face and arms. He flung the body aside and found that he was bleeding from his face, scalp, and both hands and arms.

Worse was about to come!

The paler square of the opening disappeared. For a moment, Saburo was disoriented and moved frantically this way and that in the darkness. Reason returned and, feeling about above himself, he managed to guess from the direction of the overhead beams where he was and started crawling again. On his way, he encountered the corpse of the animal and decided it was only a cat after all, though a rather large one.

But then a new noise reached his ears. Someone was hammering. He followed the sound, and when he reached the outer wall, he felt along it. The hammering stopped.

Alas, the opening was gone. Something soft and yielding blocked it. He felt it, touched clothing and hair, and realized he had been joined by the corpse of the gambler.

With some difficulty in the confined space he moved the gambler aside. The hole through which he had entered, and through which Kanemoto had shoved the body, was now closed off. He was trapped under the gangster chief’s house with the body of a murdered man.

His visit with the nun Seikan left Akitada frustrated and irritable. Why is it that those who choose a religious life assume they are above the law and can make their own judgments? Perhaps they have stripped their souls of all capacity to feel anything by avoiding the troubles of those who lead normal lives, fall in love, have children, work hard to provide for them, and in consequence suffer the unbearable pain that comes with the loss of loved ones.

But Seikan had mourned the passing of her friend, though he still thought her feelings had not been engaged to a degree where she would fight for justice. Had the erstwhile Tasuku put aside his emotions when he became a monk?

Pondering these questions, Akitada stopped and looked around. What to do next?

The answer came immediately. He would go to speak to the children who used to visit Lady Ogata. But to find them, he must visit the caretaker Koshiro again.

He passed quickly through the gardens, skirting the lake where the two cranes were fishing again, and knocked on the caretaker’s door.

It opened quickly, and Akitada saw that his presence came as a shock to the man. He said reassuringly, “I won’t keep you, but it occurred to me to speak to the two children who visited Lady Ogata. Could you tell me where they live?”

Koshiro looked past him as if he pondered the question. It had been a simple question, and Akitada turned his head to see if someone was coming, but the path was empty.

Finally Koshiro said, “I don’t know. They’re poor children. Who knows what those are up to? They were a nuisance. I didn’t like them, but I ignored them because the lady enjoyed their visits.”

“Ah. You said a boy and a girl? About how old?”

Again the strange hesitation. “Yes, a boy and a girl. The girl was maybe nine and boy was younger. I’m not good at guessing ages.”

“Thank you. I must try my best to find them.” Akitada gave him a smile and left, wondering why Koshiro had been so unhelpful.