I. Parker - The Crane Pavillion

“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to focus on his hostess. “You are very kind.”

This was not what he should be saying to this woman.

She bowed a little. “Not at all, sir. It gives me great pleasure to do this. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, I was just tired and thirsty,” Akitada said, pleased at such solicitude. It felt good to rest and now that he had found her there was no hurry. But it would not be easy to get this woman to come with him and tell her story to the police. He wished he had money to offer her.

No, he could not pay for her testimony. It would be tainted. For that matter, somebody might already suspect that she had been paid to accuse Kanemoto. He tried to ponder this difficulty while she made light conversation and he gave casual answers. To his surprise, he found he was sipping wine and enjoying the warmth suffusing his belly. With a great effort, he pulled himself together.

“I came to ask you for your help,” he said.

“But of course, sir. I’ll do my best.”

“It involves telling the police about Kanemoto.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. Who is this Kanemoto?”

Akitada was frustrated. She had decided to play the innocent. “There are witnesses who say you are Kanemoto’s mistress. One witness knows you were with Kanemoto in his house when Kanemoto strangled a man.”

She pretended to be shocked. “What a dreadful story! Please don’t frighten me like this.”

Akitada’s head felt fuzzy. He gestured at their surroundings. “Don’t lie. Kanemoto gave you this house and paid your debts to keep you quiet. I’m afraid it won’t do. I will not have a man who works for me saddled with a gangster’s crime.”

Outside a gate slammed again, and suddenly he was alert, recalling the sound from earlier. Someone had left then and was now returning. Who? And why?

The answer came immediately: she had sent one of her maids for Kanemoto. He must get out. Rising to his feet, he looked around. “Where’s the privy?”

She looked up at him. “Wait a moment and I’ll show you the way.”

He heard footsteps approaching, heavy ones. Not one of the maids, but a man, no, several men. Akitada turned, and Phoenix snatched at his robe to stop him. He tore himself free and ran to the green shades. Pushing them aside, he flung back a shutter. Outside lay a dark garden, no more than black silhouettes of trees and shrubs beyond a veranda railing. Behind him he heard male shouts and the woman’s voice. He vaulted over the railing, surprising himself and landing in a small shrub of some kind. Without regard for his robe, he pulled free to the sound of tearing silk and ran to the far end of the garden. He hoped to find a gate to a back alley there.

By now he could hear his pursuers thrashing about the shrubbery, as he moved desperately along a tall fence looking for a way out.

When he found the gate, they found him, too. There were three of them, big black shadows against the stormy night sky and the light from the distant house. They grabbed him, and he felt a searing pain in his upper back and another a little lower, His knees buckled. They let him drop.

“Got him!” shouted a man’s voice.

From the distance another man asked, “Dead?”

Rough hands turned Akitada over. He was limp.

“Yup!” shouted the first voice.

“Fine.” The second voice was closer now. “Get rid of the body. Leave him behind one of the other houses. Be careful and come back quick.”

They grabbed Akitada’s feet and pulled him away, out through the gate and along a dirt road. He might have been glad that he was not face down, but by then he had trouble breathing and tasted blood on his tongue. They had stabbed him in the back. Twice. And now he would die in an alley somewhere behind a whore’s house.

Tora woke when the guard unlocked the cell door and admitted Superintendent Kobe.

Kobe ducked in, nodded to Tora, and told the guard, “Get the chains off him.”

Tora stood, and when the chains fell off, he rubbed his wrists, and smiled. “So, what happened, sir?” he asked. “You’re letting us go? Did you arrest Kanemoto?”

Kobe, looking gray and tired, shook his head. “No such luck. Saburo stays, but you can go since you weren’t there when the murder happened and only came in the morning to look for Saburo. The neighbor saw you.”

Tora’s face fell. “Oh! You mean this wasn’t my master’s doing? What about the blind girl?”

“Nothing has changed. She’s still going to trial.”

Tora rubbed the sleep from his face and brushed his hair out of eyes. Kobe was headed away down the jail’s corridor. Hurrying to catch up, Tora asked, “How can you let this happen, sir? She’s an innocent woman who will die for this while the real killer gets away with it.”

Kobe turned an angry face to him. “That’s why I’m setting you free in the middle of the night. It gives you a few hours to find the killer or a witness who can clear the blind girl.”

Tora stopped in disbelief. It must be near morning. Was he to perform miracles? Kobe walked away. After a moment, Tora shook his head. He could not do this alone. He must speak to Akitada, see if he had found a clue. Then perhaps they could work together.

He walked home through the faint drizzle as fast as he could. It was not only pitch dark, but a slight fog hung in the night air. The Sugawara house was silent and remote when he reached it.

Genba, half asleep, admitted him, after he had pounded on the gate for a while.

“Tora? What happened?”

“Kobe let me go. Where’s the master?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t come home. I’m worried, but there’s no one here but me.”

Genba meant he was the only adult male of the household present and could not leave. Tora was on his own. He asked, “Did he come home after seeing us?”

“Yes. He changed clothes and sent for Hanae. She says he asked about her dancing master. He was trying to get you and Saburo out of jail. But he’s been gone a long time now. There was a storm.”

Tora bit his lip. “He was looking for Kanemoto. I don’t like this at all.” He looked up at the sky. It was invisible in the fog but seemed lighter. It must be near dawn. “I’m going to look for him,” Tora said, and made for his house.

“Wait,” cried Genba. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

“I’ll be fine. I think I know where the master is.”

Hanae woke from her sleep as he rummaged in his clothes trunk. “Tora?” She scrambled out of her bedding to fling her arms around him. “Did the master make them release you? And Saburo, too?”

Tora hugged his wife briefly. “No. Kobe let me out. The master seems to be lost. I’ve got to find him.” He bent to the trunk and brought out two swords. The larger one he strapped around his waist and the short one he pushed through his belt.

Hanae watched this with frightened eyes. “You’ll be careful?” she asked.

He nodded and walked out.

Genba waited at the gate. He looked miserable. “I should come with you,” he said again.

Tora shook his head. “It wouldn’t help.”

The gate closed behind him. It was still too early for people to be up in this quarter, and the lights in the houses and businesses had been extinguished. The fog was heavier and muffled all sound. Trees and houses appeared like apparitions against the paler gray. Here and there, leaves and branches lay on the ground, scattered by the storm.

Unlike Akitada, Tora did not waste his time on Ohiya. He felt a sense of urgency, of panic almost. The master and he, they had known each other for too many years not to have formed a bond of brotherhood. They guessed each other’s thoughts and felt the other’s moods. Tora knew something was very badly wrong with his master.