I Parker - The Fires of the Gods

Akitada waited politely to be told why he had been summoned and hoped His Reverence would not waste time with idle chit-chat. Some of the abbots he had met tended to make up for their absence from public affairs by getting news, gossip, and information from their visitors.

But the twitching hands and the searching eyes meant the abbot was anxious. Shokan waited only until Akitada had been served fruit juice and a bowl of pickled nuts before saying, ‘I am told that you are good at solving mysterious events.’

Akitada said cautiously, ‘Until recently it has been my honor to serve His Majesty as senior clerk in the Ministry of Justice. In that capacity, I have from time to time come in contact with puzzling criminal matters and may have offered suggestions to the police. I cannot be said to be working with the police, or as part of my official duties, or indeed regularly.’

Shokan waved that aside. ‘But you have solved difficult cases, and it is your intelligence that is needed, and perhaps your knowledge of the law.’

‘You are too generous, Reverence. My modest skills are at your service.’

‘Thank you.’ Shokan gave him a tremulous smile and dabbed a sleeve to his eyes. ‘My apologies. I am very emotional. This is the only thing that still matters to me in this life.’ He caught a breath, then burst out, ‘Oh, what does it matter? You see before you a grieving father, Sugawara. It is as if I had lost my only son.’

Akitada was mystified. He was uninformed about Shokan’s family – many noblemen did not take the tonsure until late in life – but then the abbot had said it was ‘as if he had lost a son. So not a son. ‘May I ask if this young man has died?’

‘Oh, no, I hope not.’ Shokan shuddered. ‘I could not bear that. A monk strives to give up the things of this world, but for me the struggle has been hard. How do you turn your back on someone you love?’

‘Perhaps Your Reverence had better tell me more. Your messenger said it concerns an acolyte?’

‘Yes. He is a youth now, but he came to us more than ten years ago. Right away, he was seen to be special – beautiful, gifted, and eager to learn. I saw him grow into a youth on the threshold of manhood.’ Shokan flushed a little and gave Akitada a beseeching glance. ‘You know, that delicious age when a boy is almost a man, ardent and full of heroics, yet still capable of childlike grace. Kansei looks exactly like one of those depictions of the young Prince Siddhartha before he attained Buddhahood. Oh, I hope you will find him before he is lost.’

Akitada had formed a shrewd guess of just what the relationship between Shokan and the boy had been – certainly not that of a father and son. He was irritated. As a rule, he did not judge men for engaging in sexual relationships with other men, but that Shokan should compare such bonds to those between a father and his son sickened him. What could this man know of a father’s love – or his grief when his son died? How dared he snivel over the loss of a lover who had probably simply run away from a cloying relationship with an older man. Akitada still wept for his son a year after smallpox had taken him. He still felt as if part of his flesh had been ripped away and he was no longer whole.

His silence had grown too long.

‘Well, what will you do?’ demanded His Reverence. He was staring at Akitada.

‘I beg your pardon, Reverence. I lost my only son a year ago and was remembering how that felt. Er, what was the young man’s name again?’

Instantly, Shokan’s face softened. ‘Oh, you know my pain,’ he said, nodding. ‘That is good. I gave the boy the religious name Kansei. The syllables are those of our temple, Seikan-ji.’

Apparently, Shokan considered the youth his own creation. How the youngster must have resented that. Akitada thought that any effort of returning Kansei to the abbot would prove futile. Kansei would not want to come back, and if forced to do so, would run away again. Akitada approved of that, but he could hardly say so. He asked, ‘When did Kansei leave?’

On the twenty-sixth day of the last month.’ A shuddering sigh implied the extent of suffering Shokan had endured since.

Akitada raised his brows. ‘He has been gone for nearly three weeks? Have you tried to find him?’

‘Not right away. Kansei is young and impatient. We thought he missed his mother or his former friends and had gone to see them. But if he went to his mother, she would have brought him back.’ Shokan fidgeted unhappily.

‘Did you speak to her?’

‘No. I sent for her, but she was gone also. The neighbors said she moved soon after Kansei came to us. No one seems to know what has become of her. That was when I became really worried. I am afraid that something very bad has happened to my boy.’

Akitada fished for an excuse to extricate himself. ‘Surely that isn’t likely. It seems more a matter of the youngster having taken a vacation from his religious duties.’ At that age, the acolyte might have wondered about forbidden fruit and sought out the prostitutes of the capital. ‘Did you consult the police about his disappearance?’

‘Oh, no!’ Shokan looked horrified. ‘We cannot go to the police. They are much too heavy-handed. No, no. This situation requires discretion. And loyalty. That is why I sent for you. One of my cousins, Bishop Sesshin, spoke very highly of your discretion.’

Sometimes obligations have a long reach. Sesshin had been another princely monk, one who had proved both kind and generous. A debt was being called in. Akitada sighed inwardly and reconsidered. It was possible that he had jumped to conclusions about Shokan. Perhaps the abbot had only taken a needy youngster under his wing and become fond of him. The young needed protection.

And Akitada must keep an open mind.

He said, ‘Bishop Sesshin has done me too much honor. He was a truly saintly man. I shall try my best to help you find Kansei. What does he look like and what sort of background does he come from?’

Smiling with relief, Shokan gave a glowing description of Kansei’s appearance, adding, ‘He has the most noble bearing. His mother came to me when he was small and asked me to take him because she was unable to raise him properly.’

‘What about his parentage?’

‘I assume she was a poor woman who found herself without a husband. What can it matter? The boy is exquisite. He deserves better than to live and die in the filth of the gutter.’

Akitada said nothing.

‘She claimed to have served in a noble house. I did not question this, but it may not have been true. She implied the child was the master’s son. Sometimes an official wife is jealous and dismisses a maid in such cases. It is easy to believe the boy has noble blood.’

Akitada doubted the tale; still, such things did happen and caused much unhappiness. ‘Thank you, but that isn’t much to go on. Why are you opposed to the police being involved?’

Shokan bit his lip, then reached for a small package beside him. It was tied up in a piece of blue silk. He unwrapped it, revealing five gold bars. ‘I will pay you whatever you ask,’ he said. ‘If this is not enough, there is more.’

Akitada swallowed. Between Lady Kiyowara and Abbot Shokan he had been offered payment that far exceeded his modest annual salary as senior clerk in the ministry. But such generosity sounded like a bribe and shamed him. He said stiffly, ‘You have not told me why you should wish to keep the police from knowing about the boy. Has he committed a crime? I will not protect a guilty person or cover up his offense.’

‘Of course he has not committed a crime,’ Shokan cried. ‘How can you accuse me of such a thing?’ He snatched back the gold and shoved it out of sight. ‘It seems I have made a mistake,’ he said and assumed a stiff and remote demeanor.