I. Parker - Death on an Autumn River

“Thank the gods,” he said with feeling when he had caught his breath. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come in time.” There was no answer, and he turned.

The ugly man was gone.

Akitada returned to Naniwa at sunset. As before, the boatman maneuvered his craft skillfully, though much of the trip was upstream and it took longer. But he was a young man, and Akitada paid him little intention, being preoccupied with assorted aches and a sense of confusion and anger.

As he trudged back to the Foreign Trade Office, he was still trying to understand what had just happened. The best he had come up with was that Sadenari’s questioning of the people in Naniwa must have alerted someone involved in the piracies, and Akitada’s presence had become a threat. In other words, someone had given orders to eliminate him, and perhaps the foolish Sadenari had met the same fate.

The role of the ugly man was completely incomprehensible. Why had he taken the trouble to shadow Akitada, and then saved his life? And how had he done it? Akitada had not expected an ally and was distracted at the time, but whatever weapon the ugly man had used, he had been incredibly quick and silent. And what had been his weapon? A knife long enough to do much damage was not easily hidden.

Akitada had meant to ask, but the man had disappeared again.

There was something very peculiar about him.

In the end, all these considerations were overshadowed by a furious anger that the villains – whoever they were – had dared make this attack on an imperial official. Holding his painful arm, he stormed into Nakahara’s office.

“I want the chief of the police and the prefect alerted,” he told the startled Nakahara. “Two hired killers attacked me with knives, and I’m almost certain that Sadenari has been murdered.”

The clerk Yuki goggled at him. Nakahara’s mouth sagged open. When he found speech, he said, “The police. Yes, we must call the police and report this. First thing tomorrow. But the prefect? Surely . . .” He noticed Akitada supporting his arm, and started to his feet. “Are you hurt? There’s blood on your face. Shall we send for a physician?”

Akitada brushed a hand across his forehead and encountered a cut, but he ignored the question. “As soon as there is daylight, I want a complete sweep made of the Kawajiri waterfront and slums. We must find Sadenari and question people about the attack on me. I want every man on and near the ships or working at the harbor interrogated. My clerk must be found. Dead or alive. That will take a large force, Nakahara, and to get this organized, we need the prefect. In fact, you may as well inform the governor also. The provincial guard may be needed if those involved decide to fight. Furthermore, since my real purpose here seems to be no longer a secret, you must immediately begin an official investigation. Someone in Naniwa is working with the pirates.”

Nakahara had paled and slumped back down. The clerks looked alarmed and waited to let the director respond. But Nakahara was bereft of words, and it was Tameaki who rose and bowed to Akitada. There was a gleam of excitement in his sharp eyes. “Please allow me to notify the proper authorities, sir. May I suggest that we send word tonight to the harbor police and to the warden of the quarter where you were attacked?”

Trust Tameaki to be the only useful person here. “Yes, thank you,” said Akitada and glowered at the stupefied Nakahara.

“Where did the attack take place, and what did the criminals look like?” Tameaki asked, reaching for brush and paper.

Akitada sat down abruptly. He was asking too much of Nakahara, and it was already night. He said, “I’m not sure what the area is called. It was a derelict spot. I saw poor tenements, mostly shuttered, a great deal of debris, and one large building behind a tall wall. I was cornered by two rough men in a blind alley just behind this building. It must be about half a mile from the harbor.”

Tameaki frowned. “I don’t know . . . “

Yuki finally woke from his astonishment. “That might me near the Hostel of the Flying Cranes. It’s a bit run down, but it has a tall wall in back. They keep the wall repaired to keep out the riffraff from the other side.”

Akitada cheered up and nodded. Perhaps his “guide” had at least told the truth about the hostel. But he wrestled with another problem. He did not know how badly hurt the two thugs had been. What if the police found two dead men and wanted to know what had happened. It could not be helped. He said, “Tell the police and the warden that the two men were tall and about my age. One was heavy-set and muscular. The other was lean. I did not have time to look for any distinguishing characteristics. Their clothes were ordinary jackets and pants. What a laborer might wear.”

“That’ll be enough.” Tameaki ran out, black robe flying.

“Umm,” said Nakahara, “should we rush into this? Your clerk has not been gone so very long. Calling up so many people . . . well, it will upset things.”

Akitada felt no pity. All authority had been taken out of the man’s hands. His junior clerk had made the decision for him and sprung into action. “Things are already upset,” he said. “In your position, it’s advisable to seem in control.”

Nakahara ran a shaking hand over his face. “Is that why they sent you? Because they think I’m not doing my job? What do they want from me?”

Yuki had been following this, gnawing his lower lip. Now he said loyally, “The director couldn’t have known that Sadenari would get lost and that you, sir, would run into those thugs. The waterfront is full of rough people. Surely that’s all it was. All this talk of pirates! I told Sadenari there have always been pirates. Pirates are normal on the Inland Sea.”

Nakahara nodded eagerly. “That’s right. As long as things don’t reach the point of that Suitomo thing, it’s really just a matter of ship captains being more careful.”

Suitomo had been a Fujiwara governor of one of the western provinces who had decided that he could enrich himself more quickly by becoming a pirate chief. The court had tried to appease him with gifts and honors until it had no choice but to raise an army against him.

Akitada gave Nakahara a look, and he subsided into silence. The lackadaisical attitude he expressed toward the depredations by pirates was either due to stupidity, or the man was in this up to his neck. Akitada’s eyes went to the goods piled nearly to the rafters of Nakahara’s office, and he got angry again.

“What is all this stuff?” he asked, pointing at it.

Nakahara flushed. “It should have been warehoused, but this way it’s more convenient. It saves the clerks and servants running back and forth.”

“That isn’t what I asked you.”

Nakahara sighed. “We do inspections of all ships that pass through Kawajiri and continue inland. Any goods that aren’t listed on their manifests or that seem otherwise suspicious are confiscated and brought here.”

Walking over to the piles, Akitada inspected them. “Some of these look foreign, and if I’m not mistaken, there are valuable art objects among them.”

“I know. Maybe they were stolen, or else people are making private purchases from Chinese and Korean merchants. All I can say is that they were found on ships with otherwise legitimate cargo.”

“Either way, it is illegal.”

Nakahara raised his chin. “Exactly. And we confiscate them for that reason.”

Ignoring the fact that he had finally made his host angry, Akitada held up a carved lacquer vase and blew a thick cloud of dust from it. “It looks as though most of these things have been here for a long time. Should they not have been shipped to their proper owners?”