I Parker - The Convict's sword

Kobe thought about it for a few moments. Then he poured himself and his guest more wine. They drank. “You have proof?” he finally asked in a weak voice.

“No. I’ve pieced a plot together. I was hoping that you could get Matsue to implicate Yasugi. Matsue has a broken leg. Surely that will help during the interrogation.”

Kobe shook his head in wonder. “Now I know you’ve lost your mind. You want me to torture a confession out of this Matsue and also have him testify against Yasugi?”

“I know they’re both guilty,” Akitada said stubbornly. “As for the torture, they’ve done worse than that to innocent people. Let them find out what it feels like.” Akitada gulped down another cup of wine-he was not sure if it was his fourth or fifth-and decided it was time to go home. He stood up and immediately lost his balance. “I’ve got to go,” he said, slurring his words a little. “My wife’s home alone. Mourning our son.”

Kobe stood also and came around the desk. “Your son died? So that’s what’s wrong.”

Akitada nodded. To his shame, his eyes filled with tears. “S-smallpox,” he muttered and lurched from the room.

He was not sure how he got home. He let his horse find the way. Kobe’s wine had raised a thick haze between himself and his surroundings, but in his heart he was terrified of walking into a house which no longer held his son.

Genba opened the gate and shouted the news across the courtyard. Tora and Seimei came running. Akitada let himself slide from the saddle and stood unsteadily, peering at each in turn. Their faces and voices were filled with pity. He muttered, “Thank you. Is all well?”

He meant Tamako, but Tora answered, “All are well except Kinjiro.”

He had to think for a moment before he remembered the scrawny boy Tora had brought. “Kinjiro?”

“Smallpox. Just like Yori. He survived, thank the Buddha, but just barely.”

Struck by this news, Akitada looked toward the house. “Tamako’s taking care of him?”

“No,” said Seimei. “The boy left before we knew. Tora searched for him and found him days later in the hospital. He said he didn’t want to cause more trouble.”

Wine was supposed to desensitize a man, but when Akitada thought of the half-starved street urchin dragging his feverish body to a public hospital rather than add to the turmoil in the Sugawara household, he started to weep. His three retainers waited helplessly.

“See that he has what he needs and bring him back as soon as he’s better,” Akitada said thickly. Handing his reins to Genba, he rinsed his hands and face at the well and then went in to greet his wife.

Seimei helped him off with his boots and traveling clothes. Dressed in an old house robe, Akitada went to Tamako’s door and announced himself. For a moment there was silence, then he heard the rustling of her clothes, and she slid the door back.

They looked at each other. Tamako was pale but composed.

“I’m back,” he said unnecessarily.

She nodded and stepped aside to let him in. “I’m happy to welcome you home, my lord.” She spoke tonelessly, making him a formal bow.

After six years of marriage and the loss of a child, she should have shown some emotion, he thought, but too much had happened between them. Not knowing what words might be appropriate, he finally said, “I went to Tsuzuki… to arrest the killer of Haseo’s parents.”

“I see.” She invited him to sit and sat down herself. Her room was in semidarkness, the shutters to the outside closed. “Shall I send for some tea or food?” she asked.

Such propriety. He shook his head. “No. Kobe has filled me with wine. How are you?”

“Well.” She paused. “And you?”

He nodded. “They tell me Kinjiro is in the hospital.”

She made an apologetic gesture. “I didn’t know he was ill until he was gone, but he is better. Not everyone dies, it seems.”

Unspoken, her reproach for Yori’s death rose between them and sent an icy shiver through his body. He shied away from the subject and began an account of his trip. Her eyes went to his face when he spoke of Hiroko, but she did not interrupt. When he was finished, she said only, “How terrible! Poor women. I’m glad you could help Lady Yasugi.”

“I still have to find Tomoe’s children.” He got to his feet and bowed. “Thank you for taking care of things in my absence.”

She rose also and bowed back. “It was my duty. I’m sorry I did not perform it better.”

“Not at all. You do everything very well.”

But he knew that her efficiency as the mistress of his household mattered little when they no longer shared each other’s lives.

Seimei had food and tea waiting for him in his room, and Tora was waiting also.

“What happened to Mr. Chikamatsu?” Akitada asked.

Tora gave a snort. “He’s back home, supervising the building of a higher wall between him and his nosy neighbor. And he wants Kinjiro to come live with him when he gets better.”

Akitada nodded and, finding that he was very hungry after all, ate and drank while he filled them in on what had happened in Tsuzuki. When he was done, Tora said, “So she did it for her children. And you think Yasugi was behind all of it, don’t you? You think he’s going to kill Tomoe’s children too.”

Akitada hesitated. He hated Yasugi, wanted to believe the worst of him, but he really had no proof. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Perhaps.”

“Tomoe was afraid of him,” persisted Tora, “and Yasugi’s own wife thinks he had her son killed. I’m going to find those children.” He got to his feet.

Seimei murmured, “A hasty hand bungles.”

Akitada was nearly sober, but his head had started to ache. He should have been exhausted, but the same nervous energy that had pushed him since Yori’s death was still with him. He frowned at the tangle of problems and wished he had not drunk so much of Kobe’s wine. “We have no proof that Yasugi is killing Haseo’s sons to prevent future claims on the estate,” he said, “but there are other reasons for finding the children quickly. The trouble is, unless we know where to look, it could take weeks. Tomoe was too protective to mention their whereabouts to anyone. She trusted no one.” He rubbed his temples and thought about it. “We know that she paid for their keep and went to visit them regularly. The boy, who is the heir, was probably getting some sort of schooling. It isn’t much, but it’s suggestive. I think the children are staying with a peasant family just outside the city. It won’t be far because she walked there. If her son receives instruction, it may be near a temple or district school. She certainly did not earn enough money for a private tutor.”

Tora said eagerly, “I’ll scour the countryside around the capital.”

“A blind woman would stay on well-traveled roads in case she got lost. I think you must look south of the city,” Akitada said. “I wonder if her parents owned property there. She would choose a place she knew from her childhood.” He stood up abruptly. “Seimei, my good robe and hat. We’re going to see Kunyoshi again, and then I’ll report at the ministry.”

Kunyoshi was well and seemed to have grown even more efficient. The disease had spared the old and struck the young. When Akitada asked his question, he plunged eagerly into his dusty documents and reported that the Atsumis owned two farms. One was too far away, but the other lay just south of the capital and near a minor temple.

“That must be it,” said Akitada with a sigh of satisfaction.

Tora said, “I can be there in less than an hour. Are you sure she wouldn’t have gone farther away?”

“Remember, she was blind. Go home and saddle a horse. No, two. The boy is twelve and will have learned to ride. Get the children and put them in my wife’s care. She will know what to do.”