I. Parker - Death on an Autumn River

“I’ll do so gladly if you tell me who their owners are,” Nakahara snapped, looking daggers.

“You haven’t checked them against the lists of stolen items?”

“The lists are not specific. What we find is single pieces. And when we question the captains of the ships about such goods, they always claim they have no idea where they came from.”

Akitada sat down again and thought this over. It was all very careless and improper, but perhaps not criminal. “What did you mean when you said you keep these things here to save the servants steps?” he asked after a moment.

To his surprise, Nakahara did not meet his eyes this time. There was a brief silence, then he said, “Sometimes it becomes necessary to use this or that to pay for a service.” No longer belligerent, he sounded defeated.

Raising his brows, Akitada asked, “How do you mean?”

Nakahara shifted in his seat. “I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but this office has not received any funds for a number of years. My own salary is arrears.”

“I was not aware of it.” It was likely, and it would explain much. “I’m sorry if I’ve sounded harsh,” Akitada added. “Such irregularities happen sometimes, but I wasn’t informed in your case. So you’ve sold some of the confiscated goods in order to cover expenses?”

Nakahara nodded miserably.

They sat in silence, contemplating the dilemma faced by officials who were not given the means to carry out their duties. Akitada had once been in the same position.

Tameaki returned at this point and said, “Begging you pardon, but as I was leaving the building, I ran into Professor Otomo. He wishes to have a word with Lord Sugawara.”

Akitada, embarrassed about his accusations of Nakahara, welcomed the interruption. With an apology, he rose and followed Tameaki to a small anteroom on the east side of the main hall.

He found the white-bearded Otomo pacing nervously, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Ah, Lord Sugawara,” he said, bowing. “Please forgive this rude and unannounced visit, but the burden on my conscience is getting too heavy. I had to come and speak to you.”

Akitada gestured to cushions placed side by side near a small writing desk. He wondered what this was all about. Could Otomo, with his Korean ancestry, have become involved in piracy? Most of the foreign merchants who brought goods to Naniwa these days were Koreans, but they carried shipping permits. Still, the sea between the two countries was treacherous because of Korean pirate ships.

Otomo sat and looked down at his clenched hands. He sighed deeply. When he raised his head, his eyes widened. “I do beg your pardon, sir. You’ve been injured?”

“It’s nothing. I took a tumble. Please go on.”

Another sigh. “You may recall showing me the amulet last night? You said you purchased it in Eguchi.”

Still mystified, Akitada nodded.

“And I told you it was the sort of thing bestowed on a treasured daughter in our culture. That is true, but I did not mention another matter. It is that which brings me here. Forgive me, but I’m about to betray a confidence.”

Akitada said cautiously, “You may speak freely unless the matter is criminal or a threat to the nation.”

Otomo sighed again. “May I ask if the amulet is in any way connected with the young girl that drowned?”

A little embarrassed, Akitada nodded. “Yes. She was wearing it. How did you know?”

“You see,” the professor said, his voice brittle with emotion, “I suspect that young girls from Koryo may have been brought here and forced into service in the brothels of Eguchi and elsewhere.”

Akitada raised his brows. “I would have thought that we have enough willing females to follow the trade.”

“I know it sounds very strange, and I don’t blame you for doubting me. When you showed me the amulet and later mentioned the dead girl found in the river, I was afraid that another poor child had chosen death. She’s not the first one. There were two others, also drowned and called suicides. A month ago, a friend of mine – forgive me if don’t mention his name – wrote me an anxious letter, saying that he had met a Korean girl in Eguchi, but when he went back and asked for her again, he was told that she had committed suicide. He was very upset.”

“That could have been a coincidence. There probably aren’t many girls of Korean descent in the business, but such things happen. Apparently, suicides are frequent.”

“But that’s the point, sir. Think about the misery suffered by girls who’ve been brought from Korea. They don’t speak your language. And they’re very unhappy.”

“Yes, I see. And you think my dead girl is one of those?”

“Yes, I do. When you showed me the amulet and mentioned the drowned girl, I found I could not remain silent.”

Silence fell. Otomo sat with his head bowed, waiting. Akitada was troubled by Otomo’s tale. On the whole, he was inclined to believe him, but many things argued against it. How had the young women been brought all this way? Such a thing might have happened in Kyushu, which was much closer to the Korean peninsula. There was a constant coming and going of merchants and fishermen between both countries. But the Inland Sea was closed to all but their own ships and a few well-known merchant ships from Koryo. These had applied for and received special permission to travel to the capital, but their ships would have been most carefully inspected in Kyushu and again at Naniwa. Could the pirates be involved in this?

He asked the obvious question. “Why? Why bring Korean women here when hiding them from the authorities must be very difficult and dangerous? I am told brothel towns are very carefully supervised.”

Otomo shook his head. “I do not know.”

Akitada thought. “This amulet-you said it would only be given to girls of rank.”

“Ah, yes. My friend claimed his girl was well educated. She knew Korean poetry and songs, and she could read and write. The singing . . . it’s possible that they like young girls who have a special talent like that. I wonder, could you let me have the amulet long enough to make some inquiries?”

Akitada reached into his sash and froze.

“What’s the matter, sir?”

There was no amulet in Akitada’s sash. He realized what had happened. He must have thrown it in the dirt along with his money when the two ruffians confronted him in the blind alley. He got up. “I would like to but seem to have misplaced it. You must forgive me. My clerk has gone missing, and I’m worried. I promise, I’ll look for the amulet and think about your story.”

Otomo rose immediately and bowed deeply. “Thank you. I thought I should speak to you and offer an explanation for the poor girl’s death. Please pardon my arrival at such an inconvenient moment.”

“Not at all,” said Akitada as they walked out together. When they reached the entrance doors, he paused. “Do you think there could be an organization smuggling in foreign women?”

“I hope not, sir, but I admit I have wondered about the same thing.”

Perhaps the pirates engaged not only in robbery and murder on the high seas but also had a lucrative side business dealing in human beings. His encounter in the blind alley in Kawajiri and young Sadenari’s fate took on a more ominous significance.

Akitada’s first thought had been to rush back to the place where he had been attacked to look for the amulet and his few gold and silver pieces. A foolish notion and proof that events had addled his usual common sense. Not only was it night and he did not know the way, but his very sore arm was a reminder that he had barely escaped from that neighborhood with his life. Besides, Sadenari was still gone, and that was beginning to weigh heavily on his conscience. The boy must be found before anything else.