I Parker: The Fires of the Gods

‘Umm,’ he said, ‘a very pleasant chat, my dear fellow, and so kind of you to stop by, but you can see I’m dreadfully pressed for time. You must forgive me.’

Akitada went home, not much wiser about Kiyowara’s murder and at a loss how to proceed. He changed into his old clothes and then looked in on Tamako. She was sleeping, her maid Oyuki sitting nearby sewing some tiny clothes. Seeing the small garments moved him deeply, but he was not sure if they made him happy or afraid.

He spent several hours sorting through his papers, separating ministry materials and boxing them, and looking for forgotten promises. He had never sought preferment as a reward for helping someone, but most officials relied on just that sort of thing to protect their positions or win better ones. From time to time men had thanked him, adding that he might call on them for future benefits. But he knew it was a hopeless task. He had ignored all such offers, even received some with stiff disapproval perhaps. Now that he needed help, they would claim ignorance.

Discouraged, Akitada fled outside to see if Tora was home. He found him on the small veranda behind his and Hanae’s living quarters. He was playing with his son, swinging the baby up and down as the child gurgled with laughter. Akitada’s spirits lifted.

‘Careful,’ he cried out, when the baby’s head nearly hit the roof overhang.

Tora turned, laughing and cradling his son against his chest. ‘Did you want me, sir? I just got home, and Hanae was needed in the kitchen.’

‘No, no. I came for a chat.’ Akitada sat down, dangling his feet over the edge of the veranda. ‘How Yuki has grown! He’ll surely be a big man like his father.’

Tora grinned. Holding the baby away, bare legs kicking, he looked him over proudly. ‘Better than looking like his mama. Not that it’s not very fetching in a female. Will you hold him, sir, while I get us some wine?’

The baby was bare-bottomed, but Akitada received him gladly, almost reverently. Yuki was a fine boy and a happy child. His parents doted on him. He settled the baby, pleased that he did not cry in his arms, and fell, willy-nilly, to cooing and tickling, admiring the bright eyes, the tiny, perfectly formed fingers and toes, the smiling toothless little mouth. Soon, very soon, he would hold his own son and feel a father’s pride again. There was deep joy in such brief moments – joy that would surely make up for the fears that also lurked in the corners of the mind.

Tora returned with the wine and said, ‘Wait till you hear what happened to me.’ He poured two cups, then took the baby back and set him down next to a wooden ball, a couple of smooth bamboo sticks, and a small carving of a dog.

Akitada watched the child rolling the ball back and forth and decided to buy him a toy in the market. ‘So, what have you been up to?’

‘I met Jirokichi, the Rat.’

‘No! Did you?’

‘Well, he claimed to be Jirokichi. Five young thugs were dragging him off after giving him a bad beating. I came along just in time. They thought he had gold hidden away someplace.’

‘More mischief by young ruffians. It’s becoming a city-wide problem.’

‘My thought, too. I figured the little man would be grateful and help me find the bastards that got my gold, but when I started asking questions, he clammed up and ran.’

‘Hmm. Probably afraid of retaliation.’

‘Maybe, though he’s a spunky little guy.’

‘Did you check on the fire victims?’

Tora’s face fell. ‘Yeah. The son’s not going to live either. He was delirious. About the only thing on his mind was if his father had paid some debt.’ Tora related the dying shopkeeper’s words: ‘But Father paid the money,’ and the neighbor’s comment that the old man had been a miser. ‘It’s almost as if they thought the gods punished them in some special way.’

Akitada frowned. ‘What did the cousin have to say about that?’

‘Nothing. She said he was hallucinating, but maybe he wasn’t.’

‘No, I don’t think he was. I think she’s afraid to talk because there’s a protection scheme going on. Some masterless warrior has sold his skill with the sword to tradesmen who want protection against thieves and robbers. She and the neighbor think the fire was set because they didn’t pay.’

Tora gaped at him. ‘You mean it wasn’t the gods?’

‘Of course not, though it could have been carelessness.’

Tora said eagerly, ‘Let’s go investigate it, sir, and turn the bastards in.’

‘I have my hands full, trying to clear my name. You should report this to Superintendent Kobe.’

Tora’s face fell, but it was not in his nature to be discouraged for long. ‘You’ll solve the Kiyowara murder in no time, sir. I’ll help if you need me – only, I’m not much good at chatting up the important people. I think I’ll look for Jirokichi. He’s a thief, and he knows something he doesn’t want to talk about. Maybe I can find out if there are fire setters. Then you can report it to Superintendent Kobe and the ministry, and they’ll be so pleased that they’ll beg you to come back.’

Akitada had no hope that things would work out so smoothly, but Tora’s optimism always cheered him. His eye fell on the baby. Yuki was pursuing a shiny green beetle to the edge of the veranda and was about to tumble off into the weeds below. He lunged to snatch him back to safety. ‘Let me hold him,’ he said, bouncing the baby on his knee. ‘You can’t be trusted to look after him properly.’

At that moment, there was a loud knocking at the gate, and Tora ran off to see who it was. A moment later, Akitada heard him shouting, ‘Sir? It’s a messenger for you.’

Carrying the baby, Akitada walked back to the courtyard, where he found a member of the palace guard mounted on a splendid, red-tasseled horse. The officer stared at him. ‘Are you Secretary Sugawara?’

‘Yes.’ Akitada became aware of warm moisture spreading between the baby and himself.

The guard pulled a thin rolled-up document from his tunic and handed it down. ‘No answer is expected, sir,’ he said with a sharp nod and turned his horse to trot back out into the street.

Tora closed the gate behind him and came to take his son. ‘Sorry, sir,’ he said when he saw Akitada’s robe. ‘He’s not quite housebroken yet. What is it?’

Akitada had undone the silk ties and unrolled the letter. The thick inky brush strokes swam before his eyes after the first lines. He had to force himself to go back and read the whole document again. It spelled disaster. He rolled it up again and said, ‘It’s not good, I’m afraid. I’ve been dismissed and have to hold myself ready for an investigation by the censors.’

‘The censors? I thought Kiyowara’s murder was a police matter.’

‘Officials in the imperial administration are also subject to review by the Censors’ Bureau. It’s a good rule. They make sure that officials who have committed crimes never serve in any responsible capacity in the government again.’ He did not add that such investigations usually led to exile.

He had to bear the blame for this. When you touch fire, you get burned. Far from being an absent-minded poet, Ono must have gone to report his visit, and the chancellor had acted much more quickly than even Akitada could have expected.

Tora woke to the chatter of his son Yuki. The baby normally slept between his parents, but last night Tora had wanted to make love to his wife, and on such occasions they took their son into the small kitchen area and made him a bed in a large basket.

Hanae, who had been busy in the main house for the past week, was still soundly asleep. Being a considerate husband, Tora got up to make some milk gruel for the baby.