I. Parker - Death on an Autumn River

*

For a while it seemed as if this was precisely what would happen. Akitada’s report to Sanesuke’s staff received no more than an acknowledgment. The Ministry of Justice was another matter. His immediate superior, Fujiwara Kaneie, a distant relative of the ruling Fujiwaras, was nominally in charge of all that pertained to import taxes and the laws governing foreign goods and merchants. He responded by letter, expressing considerable anxiety and shock at the attack on Akitada’s family. Kaneie was a decent man and begged Akitada to take the time to bury his faithful friend before reporting to the ministry.

Akitada made funeral arrangements and had several talks with Genba and Tora. Genba said little, but his eyes were bleak, and Tamako told Akitada that he had lost his usual appetite and barely touched his food. It was Genba who took care of the injured Trouble. Trouble was Tora’s dog, and Genba’s care of the poor dog eventually touched Tora. This, more than any words from Akitada, healed the rift between them.

The funeral was quiet, but Akitada saw to it that it was done properly and with the care for detail that Seimei would have approved of. Seimei’s idol, Master Kung, had liked ritual. After the funeral, Akitada and Tora took Seimei’s ashes to his ancestral temple, where another service was performed.

When they returned home and Akitada walked into his house, he felt Seimei’s presence almost physically. For forty-nine days, a man’s soul lingered in the place where he had died, but Akitada thought Seimei would be with them much longer. This had been his home, this house and the Sugawara family. He could not leave them. Rather he would be a benevolent spirit watching over them.

He thought this rather guiltily and would not have shared such sentimental beliefs with anyone. Instead he put on a calm face and directed his family’s affairs with the utmost attention. He played with his little daughter and chatted with Tamako about Eguchi and Naniwa, subjects she seemed to find enormously interesting. The distraction was a welcome thing. She thought the disappearance of Sadenari most likely a matter of youthful hijinks and a lack of responsibility on the part of the youngster, but she was quite upset about the young drowning victim in Eguchi.

“The way very young girls are forced into that profession breaks my heart.” Tamako got up to pace around the room. She paused before Akitada. “Can you imagine how they must feel? They are children who are suddenly in a different, harsher world where men are allowed to abuse them for money. Accustomed to the love of their family, they are abandoned to pain and despair. It’s no wonder they drown themselves.” She was flushed with anger and quite beautiful.

Akitada wanted to argue that in a poor family such love was probably not very deep since it was the family who sold them, and that life as a pampered courtesan had its consolations, but he knew better and only said, “Hmm.”

In the evenings Akitada withdrew to his study, ostensibly to work or to read, but really to remember Seimei. Akitada wept in private.

*

Two days after Seimei’s funeral, Akitada steeled himself to pay the overdue visit to Sadenari’s parents. Kaneie had suggested that the news would come better from him. He had been right.

Dressed soberly, he made his way to the modest neighborhood where Sadenari’s father, a low level official in the bureau of palace repairs, lived with his family. As he walked, he prepared the sort of speech that would apprise the parents of their son’s disappearance without throwing them into a panic that he had been murdered.

When he found the house and heard the cheerful voices of children, he felt worse. He should have informed himself better about Sadenari’s background. In retrospect, the youngster now seemed naive and innocent rather than disobedient and willful. He knocked at the gate.

Excited voices burst into shouts: “Someone’s at the gate!” “Tell Dad!” “Maybe it’s a letter from Sadenari.”The gate flew open, and five youngsters, boys and girls of assorted ages, stared at him. Their faces fell simultaneously. The biggest, a boy, said, “This is the Miyoshi house, sir. Did you want to speak to our father?”

“Yes. Thank you. My name is Sugawara. Would you please announce me?”

It was not necessary. A middle-aged man already hurried down the steps of the house, blue robe fluttering and a pair of incongruous straw sandals flapping on his bare feet.

He clapped his hands. “Children, run along now! Don’t detain the gentleman.” He followed this up with a deep bow to Akitada. “Welcome, sir, welcome! Please come in. I apologize. My home is very humble, and my family large and uncouth. We don’t see visitors often.”

Akitada smiled. “You’re blessed with a large family, Miyoshi. Most men would envy you. I’m Sugawara. Your oldest son works for me as a junior clerk at the ministry.”

“Oh, indeed. Yes, that is so.” Miyoshi’s round face broadened into an even wider smile. “What an honor, sir!” he cried, bowing several times quite deeply. “Sadenari has spoken much about you, my Lord. He’ll be so pleased to hear that you have called on his family.” He caught sight of Akitada’s taboo tag. “Oh, my condolences. Not a close family member, I hope.”

This was not the sort of thing that made Akitada’s errand easier. He cleared his throat. “Thank you. A trusted family retainer. Perhaps we could go inside?”

“Oh. What was I thinking? Leaving you here standing in the open while I babble on. Please come into the house.” He made a move toward the stairs, then decided that the honored guest should go first. But how would he find the way? He stopped again in a small panic.

“Perhaps you would be kind enough to lead the way?” Akitada said mildly.

“Yes, thank you! This way then.”

He bustled ahead, muttering apologies for the lack of comforts. The house was, in fact, small, plain, and so filled with people that the one room that should have been reserved for guests had been turned into family living space. It was cluttered with shabby trunks, piled higgledy-piggedly on top of each other, and enough rolled-up bedding for a small military contingent. In addition, abandoned robes, books, arm rests, small desks, braziers, cosmetic boxes, bird cages with birds, and the toys of small children had gathered in its four corners and along the walls.

Miyoshi rummaged and found two cushions under some bedding. These he placed on the floor in the center of the room, inviting Akitada to sit. From several doorways peered the faces of children, only to be withdrawn when Akitada glanced their way.

This would be difficult.

Looking at his beaming host, Akitada said, “You know, of course, that Sadenari just recently accompanied me to Naniwa.”

Miyoshi nodded eagerly, beaming more widely. “Oh, yes. He was so excited, so honored. He’s such an admirer of Lord Sugawara’s brilliant work that it was a stoke of the greatest luck to him. He told me he hoped to learn from you so that maybe someday he also might become an investigator. And here he was, selected to assist in such a very serious matter! It was an honor, a great honor. The greatest! We are very indebted to your generous regard for our boy, sir.”

“Hmm, er, thank you. Sadenari is indeed a very eager young man. I returned because of a death in my family and had to leave him behind.”

His host was nodding his head with apparent satisfaction. “I understand,” he said. “He wrote to me about his assignment.”

“He wrote to you?” Akitada wondered what Sadenari had told his father about being left behind in Eguchi and having to walk all the way to Naniwa.

“Oh, yes. The letter got here a few days ago. He’s very excited about being given a special assignment. Says it’s of the highest national importance. And he writes that he has already made excellent progress and hopes he’ll soon justify your faith in his abilities. Isn’t that wonderful? I said to his mother only this morning that my eldest son will bring great honor to the family. We’re very proud of him.”