I. Parker: The Crane Pavillion

“I still don’t know anything,” Koshiro said. “I’ve told you and the police everything.”

“Not quite,” said Akitada with a nod to the painter. He led his sister to a cushion, then seated himself. Tora leaned against the door and glowered.

Koshiro hesitated, then sat down beside Yoshizane. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“You misled us and the police,” Akitada said. “That was very foolish. It makes you look guilty.”

Koshiro yelped, “Guilty?”

Tora growled, “Is your name really Koshiro?”

“That’s the name I’m known by.”

“Maybe now, but I’ll bet you had a different one before you came here. The police will become very interested when we tell them about you.”

Koshiro’s eyes went to the door. Tora put his hand to his sword.

“But I haven’t done anything,” the caretaker protested.

Akitada said, “You rearranged Lady Ogata’s room so the police would think she had committed suicide. Did you kill her?”

The caretaker turned absolutely white and looked about him in desperation.

The painter had listened with great interest and asked, “Did you, Koshiro? Shame on you! Whatever had she done to you?”

“Nothing. It’s a lie, or a mistake. You know me, Yoshizane. I worshipped her.”

The painter giggled. “You and the student, and maybe all of us. But you and the student are crazy.”

Koshiro stared at Akitada with a hopeless expression. He said, “You’re right. I did push the trunk under her, but I didn’t kill her. I would never have hurt her. She was good, truly good. She made me feel decent.”

Akitada watched him. “Tell us about it.”

“I was afraid the police would find out about me. Years ago I did something I’m ashamed of and was sent to prison. I was building a road with other prisoners, and one day I ran away. I begged for food at temples and monasteries. One day, something happened to me at a temple. I saw a vision of the goddess Kannon. When the monks found me crying and praying, they asked what was the matter. They took me to their abbot and I confessed everything. When I was done, he said the goddess had forgiven me. He said he needed someone to look after this mansion and gave me this job. When he brought the lady to live here, I saw she was very kind and beautiful. She was an incarnation of Kannon to me. I would never have hurt her. That cursed day when the children came to fetch me, and I saw what had happened, I fell to my knees and prayed. That’s when I saw the trunk and knew what I had to do. And that’s what I did, and it’s all I did.”

Silence fell.

The painter broke it first. “But,” he said, “that means someone else killed her.”

Akitada nodded. “Yes, someone did kill her.”

Koshiro flung himself down before Akitada, knocking the go board aside and scattering the stones. “I swear I’m innocent. I don’t know what happened.”

Akitada sighed and got to his feet, extending a hand to Lady Akiko. “Come,” he said. “There’s nothing more for us here. We must find the killer elsewhere.”

Koshiro wailed, “What will happen to me?”

“If you’re innocent, nothing. But if you have lied or kept anything hidden again, I’ll see to it that the law falls upon you with special heaviness.”

Outside again, he turned to his sister. “Be warned by his story. These people have led rough lives. If we confront the murderer, he may become violent.”

She laughed. “I look forward to it. Life gets pretty dull when you see nobody but people of your own kind. And I’m not at all the refined creature you take me for.”

She was probably right about that.

They walked back to the main house and entered the wing occupied by Genshin’s guests.

Hearing their steps, the professor opened his door and looked out into the corridor. He was bleary-eyed and stank of wine. His eyes moved from Akitada and Tora to Lady Akiko and widened. “Dear me,” he said. “Do my eyes deceive me or is this a celestial being?”

“You may remember me,” Akitada said coldly. “The lady is my sister. She takes an interest in Lady Ogata’s story. Akiko, this is Professor Suketada.”

The professor blinked. “I hardly dare offer my hospitality,” he said, bowing, “but I’m a poor man and perhaps, in her kindness, her ladyship may overlook the shortcomings of my current abode.”

He stepped aside. Akiko looked at the cluttered room, wrinkled her nose, and decided to stand near the doors to the veranda.

“We needn’t trouble you long,” Akitada said. “What do you know about the caretaker?”

“He’s as lazy as they come. Caretaker? He only takes care of himself.”

“How long has he been here?”

“Let me see. About as long as I. I think he showed up right after I moved in and introduced himself. I’m afraid I don’t waste my time talking to caretakers. You’ll have to ask Yoshizane. They’re fast friends.”

Akiko interjected, “Do you ever take on private pupils, Professor?”

Akitada stared at her. Surely she was not thinking of hiring this wine-sodden individual for his children.

The professor made her another bow. “Very rarely, my dear lady. My research takes up all of my time. I’m engaged in writing a history of the Imperial University, you see.”

“It will be a most learned work, I’m sure,” Akiko said. “But you have had private students in the past?”

The professor waved a hand. “A few. Not worth the effort. The young are irritating dolts. I offered to help our young Akushiro recently and found him very unstable. Apart from the fact that he can’t keep his mind on anything but women, he’s dangerously violent.”

Akitada asked, “Violent? He seemed more the frightened rabbit type. What happened?”

The professor rubbed his chin and grimaced. “He was supposed to be writing an essay on Kung Fu Tse and scribbled some silly poem instead. I made a scathing comment on his poetic skills and he hit me. That ended our lessons.”

Akitada raised his brows. “It seems I was wrong about that young man. I intend to have a word with him. Where is his room?”

The professor took them along the corridor and pointed to a door. “He may not be in,” he cautioned. “Now and then he actually attends a lecture at the university.”

As soon as the tall figure of the professor had bowed and disappeared into his own room again, Akitada tapped on the student’s door. Getting no response, he opened it and walked in, followed by Akiko and Tora.

The student’s room was not very tidy, but since he had not accumulated as many books and papers as Professor Suketada, it appeared cleaner and more spacious. The shutters to the outside were closed, but strips of light filtered in and revealed a clothing trunk, a small desk, a stand with books, a roll of bedding, a few utensils, and an old wooden box of the type that held money or important papers.

Akitada made straight for this box and found it locked.

Tora joined him. “It looks pretty flimsy. Shall I have a try at breaking it open, sir?”

Akitada hesitated.

“Go ahead!” urged Lady Akiko.

Tora picked up the box with both hands and shook it. It made a rustling sound. “Not money anyway,” he said. “Sounds like papers.”

“Papers,” cried Lady Akiko. “That’s much better than money. Open it.”

The lock turned out to be loose, having lost a nail in the past and being held by a single remaining nail which Tora pried out with his knife. Opened, the box revealed loose sheets of paper covered with poetry and a thin notebook.”

Lady Akiko snatched the notebook, while Akitada leafed through the poems. They seemed to be passionate love poems or dealt with death. Clearly the student had been in love with Lady Ogata. Akitada sighed and put the poems back. “Anything there?” he asked his sister.