I. Parker - Death of a Doll Maker

He was even more enthusiastic when the food arrived and he sampled. The noodle soup was particularly rich and delicious. “What’s this?” Tora asked, raising a pale succulent sliver with his chopsticks.

“Chicken.”

“May the Buddha forgive me for eating an animal.” He chewed and smacked his lips.

“Wait until you taste the pork dumplings.” Maeda held one out between his chopsticks.

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Taste it.”

The dumpling was the best thing Tora had ever put in his mouth. “Oh, I know I’ll go straight to hell for this. How do they manage all this killing of animals when it comes to their souls?”

“Buddhism isn’t very popular with the Chinese. They’re mostly devout followers of Master Kung-fu-tse.”

Tora ordered another plate of dumplings. “My master will like this. He’s not altogether convinced the Buddhist priests are right. By the way, how’s your prisoner?”

“Mitsui’s weeping and shaking like a leaf. He’s sure he’s going to the mines for the rest of his life. Or worse, as the case may be.”

“What’s worse than working in the mines?” Tora recalled conditions in the penal colony of Sado and shuddered.

“You know about mines?”

“Yes. My master was in one on Sado Island.”

Maeda stopped chewing. “You’re pulling my leg. He’s a nobleman, isn’t he?”

“Yes. But it’s the truth. I swear. He was pretending to be a convict to check into a murder there. He escaped. Barely.”

Maeda shook his head in amazement as he thought about this. “He must be a very brave man. You may have a point about mines being worse than a quick death. Here it’s cheaper to lose a prisoner while rowing him across the bay to the convict boat. Being chained hand and foot hampers the swimming.”

“That’s horrible. Is there a lot of crime in Hakata?”

“Not so you’d know. But plenty of bodies wash up. Okata enters them as accidental drownings.”

“What? Doesn’t a coroner look at them first? You do have a coroner?”

“Yes, a good one. Doc Fujita’s a trained physician. That reminds me. He had a look at Mrs. Mitsui. She had twenty-four stab wounds, most to the chest and belly, but also several to the face. Some cuts were very deep. Fujita says the knife was sharp and more than the length of a hand. She bled to death.”

Tora nodded. “It sounds either personal or the work of a madman. A husband might’ve done it in a fit of anger.”

“I took him back to the house and made him check if anything was gone. He said their big knife is missing. It’s about the right length. He insists the killer must’ve got in and used the knife to kill her.”

“Any signs of someone breaking in? She’d gone to bed.”

“No, but he says she would’ve left the door unlocked for him.”

“Careless. So what now?”

“Hmm. If he’s innocent, I suppose we are left with a madman.”

“Oh well, that narrows it down.” Tora looked disgusted and poured himself some more tea. It was sweetened with honey, and he thought it a very acceptable substitute for wine.

Maeda waved a waiter over to order another dish, which appeared in the form of fluffy objects like tiny hairy pillows.

“Golden Dragon’s Beard,” said Maeda. “Try it. It’s sweeter than honey.”

Tora eyed the hairy objects with a shudder. “Thanks, I’m too full.”

Maeda picked up a pillow, tearing it into sticky pieces before putting them into his mouth. He rolled his eyes and rubbed his belly. Tora decided the hairy things couldn’t be too bad and took a small bite from another pillow. The sticky strands separated and stuck to his chin.

Maeda laughed and reached across to wipe Tora’s chin. “Tigers don’t have beards in my experience.”

They finished the sweet with sticky fingers and faces, but the waiter brought bowls of warm water to wash off the remnants of the meal.

Tora burped with satisfaction. “Best meal I’ve ever had. I’m beginning to like our Chinese neighbors.”

Maeda grinned. “They say most devils live near a temple.”

Tora sobered. “Or marry shrine priests,” he said.

They located the modest house belonging to the Zhou family and asked for Suyin. Her family received Maeda with the greatest respect in a large room which served as living quarters for many Zhous of all ages. Parents, wives of sons, unmarried daughters, and grandchildren all seemed to live together amicably.

This family togetherness was customary, and it struck Tora he had rarely known anyone as lonely as the dead woman, who seemed to have had no one except Suyin to confide in. In his own country women were supposed to be cherished by their families, protected by fathers, husbands, and brothers, and surrounded by other women in the household. He knew his wife Hanae spent many happy hours with his master’s wife and Genba’s new bride.

As it turned out, Suyin did not have a husband or children, but she, too, was part of this large family. She was plain to the point of ugliness and past middle age, which explained why she was still unmarried and tended many small children belonging to her brothers’ families. The Zhous were not well-to-do. They were able to feed their large family, but had little beyond that. Maeda and Tora talked to Suyin in the same room where most of the Zhous spent the day. She was surrounded by other women, busy with assorted chores, and a startling number of small children ran about, many of them bare-bottomed.

They all listened as Maeda told Suyin about her friend’s death. She wept. Several toddlers clinging to her skirts joined in, and it was a while before everyone calmed enough for Tora and Maeda to ask their questions. And finally new facts emerged.

“She was happy for once,” sobbed Suyin, “really happy. She had earned some gold; she showed me five coins and said she was going to spend it on herself. She’d never been able to do such a thing before. She was going to buy some green silk at Mr. Feng’s store and sew herself a fine new dress. And there were some embroidered shoes she wanted, and then she said she and I were going to take a trip together. We were going to visit a mountain shrine and bathe in the hot water sacred to the mountain god. She believed it would cure the pains in her hands and legs.” Suyin looked at them tearfully, then wailed, “Oh, poor Mei. She never had any luck.”

The listening family murmured, nodding their heads. A child started to bawl again.

“She had gold?” Tora asked, flabbergasted. “Where did she get it?”

Suyin sniveled and turned away to blow her nose. “She sold some of her dolls for quite a lot of money and decided not to tell her husband. He never gave her anything, even though it was Mei who did most of the work. He just fired the clay dolls and delivered them when they were ready. It was Mei who painted them and made their clothes.”

“Who gave her the money?” Maeda asked.

“She didn’t say. She just smiled and said she could sell as many dolls as she wanted.”

Tora asked, “When did she get this gold? I suppose her customer paid after she delivered the dolls?”

Suyin looked vague. “I’m not sure. She showed me the coins when she came to work with me at the Hayashi house. That was day before she was killed. She smiled and sang all day as she worked. After work, she bought some sweets for both of us.”

“Then she must have gotten it at least two days before the murder.” Maeda said. Suyin nodded and burst into tears again.

“Why didn’t she want her husband to know about this money?” Tora asked.

“He wasn’t nice to her because she was Chinese. He told her it was her fault they were poor. I told her she should ask for some of the money for herself because she did most of the work. She did, but he gave her a black eye. After that she was afraid of him.”