Текст книги "Death on an Autumn River "

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter Eighteen

Melons and Courtesans

Akitada’s worries increased during the day.  There had been no progress.  Tora was in Kawajiri looking for pirates.  Neither of them had a full understanding how these men operated.  They were the highway robbers of the sea and said to be far more cruel and murderous.  And he had already lost Sadenari.  He reminded himself that Tora was not Sadenari.  Tora knew how to fight and he was shrewd about the underworld.

In the afternoon, he returned to the prefecture.  Munata was there, but the governor was still absent.

Munata still looked very distraught and nervous.  “I’ve done everything I could,” he assured Akitada, “but His Excellency is a proud man.  Besides, I had to inform him of his son’s departure.  I don’t think he will come to Naniwa until Yoshiyo is found.  Surely you can understand a father’s feelings?”

“No.  Enlighten me,” snapped Akitada.  “I would have thought that an imperial order takes precedence over the vagaries of adult sons.”

Munata twisted his hands.  “An only son.  Allow me to explain, sir.  His Excellency has had many tragedies in his life.  He lost four sons in their childhood.  Only Yoshiyo, his heir, survived.  If I may explain: the boy was always a dreamer, but he did well at the university, and his father had high hopes for him in government service.  Alas, Yoshiyo wished to become a monk. His Excellency was aghast, as you may imagine, and called him home.  Since then, they’ve had a great quarrel.  Yoshiyo made some wild threats.  His Excellency was afraid of pushing his son too far and let him come to stay with me.  Now Yoshiyo has run away, and we don’t know where he is.  You can see how worried we all are.”

Akitada frowned.  It seemed that every time he tried to force compliance from the men involved in the piracy matter, they came up with some convincing excuse why they could not obey.  He said, “I am required to report to the Minister of the Right, and I suggest you remind the governor of this.  He must learn to handle his family problems without ignoring his duty.”

“I regret, sir, that the governor has departed to look for his son.  I have no way of contacting him.”

Akitada just looked at the prefect.

Munata swallowed and added, “My clerks are gathering information about pirate activity and possible local connections, and I have informed the local police to give you every assistance.  Besides, I can offer you my own men, in case you should meet with armed resistance.  The prefectural guard numbers twenty-five trained men, and I have personal retainers who can raise another two-hundred soldiers.  They are at your command.”

The offer was unexpected and extremely generous. Akitada was mollified.  Two-hundred armed men was a small army.  “Thank you.  I shall avail myself of your offer if the need arises, but on the whole I’d like to avoid bloodshed.  It always falls heaviest on the innocent.”

The prefect bowed.

“Send a clerk with the paperwork to the government hostel.  I’m staying there.”

Munata bowed again.

Akitada had to be satisfied with partial success and decided to speak to the professor again.  He was still puzzled by the man’s interest in the dead courtesan.

The professor’s wife, looking pale and worn and dispensing with any effort to hide behind a fan, told him that her husband was down by the river.

A breeze had sprung up, and as Akitada strode down toward the little inlet of the ducks, it seized a crimson maple and scattered its leaves before him like a shower of blood.  He shuddered, and an irrational fear gripped him.  Surely, his strange moods were due to his recent loss.  Seimei gone, leaving a great void, and before him his small son Yori.  And Tora was even now walking into the same danger that had swallowed the unfortunate youth Sadenari.  Some days he felt that they were all being tossed about as  helplessly as the leaves.

He found Otomo in an odd posture of despair.  He sat on the ground, hunched over, his elbows propped on his knees and his face in his hands.  When Akitada cleared his throat, he came upright and then rose awkwardly to his feet.  “Your Excellency,” he said, his voice thick.  “I didn’t know you had returned.”

There were tears on the old man’s face.  Embarrassed, Akitada said, “I didn’t mean to intrude.  We can talk later.”

The professor shook his head with a sad smile.  “No, no.  I’m glad you came.  It’s too beautiful here to have sad thoughts.  They say, you cannot stop the birds of sorrow, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair.”  He chuckled weakly.

Akitada looked away from Otomo’s reddened eyes and at the river, gilded by the setting sun.  The ducks bobbed on the water of the cove, and pines grew close and dipped their branches into the stream.  On the opposite shore, the trees wore their autumn colors: shades of green and gold, copper and flame against the fading blue of the sky, more exquisite than the many-layered sleeves of court ladies at an imperial progress.  He wondered what troubled Otomo but dared not probe his grief.

He said instead, “You’re to be envied for this place.  It is indeed like a small corner of paradise.  But since you don’t mind, I do have a question.  When I called on the prefect, I met the governor’s son.  I think you mentioned that he was your pupil at one time?”

Otomo nodded. “Toshiyo?  Yes, I taught him.  A very bright boy, and a nice one.  I had no need to lie to his father.  I hear he did very well at the university.”

“I’m sure he’s a credit to you, but Munata seems to think the young man is about to do harm to himself or to someone else. What do you think?  Is he the type?”

Otomo stared at him.  His lips worked, but he said nothing for a moment.  Then he shook his head. “Oh, dear!  That doesn’t sound at all like Toshiyo.  What can have happened?  He was always a happy boy when I knew him.  Perhaps Munata exaggerates?”

“Perhaps.  I hoped you could throw some light on it.”

Otomo turned away to look out over the water.  His voice sounded strained.  “I wish I could.  I’m fond of him.  It’s true that Yoshiyo was always a very sensitive child.  Sometimes I think he has too soft a heart for someone of his birth.  Young people are so easily hurt.”  He sighed deeply, and murmured, “And we are helpless to protect them.”

“So you think the young man has committed some offense?”

Otomo’s head came up.  “Oh, no, I don’t believe that.  I was speaking in general terms only.”

His comments had lacked the detachment of someone speaking in general terms, and he seemed near tears again.  Akitada decided to let it go and changed the subject.  They chatted about the ducks and fishermen, about the tastiest fish found locally and how to prepare them, but the professor’s mind seemed to be on something else.

On an impulse, Akitada said, “I find I have a little time on my hands, and it occurs to me that I might spend it looking into your mystery of the Korean girls.  If you like, we could go to Eguchi tomorrow and ask a few questions.  I’ve been feeling guilty about that poor young girl with the amulet.”

Otomo gasped, then he shook his head violently.  “Oh, no.  No, that isn’t at all necessary.  It was a mere whim of mine.  I shouldn’t have troubled you.  You were quite right.  It was all my imagination.  I would not dream of troubling you.”

“Nonsense,” said Akitada, astonished by this sudden about-face.  “I may pick up some information about piracy while we’re there.”

Otomo became more agitated.  Wringing his hands, he said, “Better not, sir.  You never know what trouble may ensue.  Please do not pursue this matter.”

“Why not?  What has happened to change your mind?”  Akitada was becoming irritated.

“Nothing.  Nothing at all.  I’m just . . . this is all becoming too much . . . please excuse me.”  He turned away, his shoulders shaking.

Akitada said nothing for a while.  When Otomo did not seem to gain control again, he spoke more gently.  “Well, never mind.  We can talk about it tomorrow.  I’m a little tired and will say ‘Good night’ for now.”

*

Back at the hostel, he lay awake for a long time wondering about the puzzling behavior of the people he had dealt with that day.  The most perplexing had been the professor.  Something must have happened to change his mind and upset him to such a degree.  He had decided not to give him the amulet just yet.

And what had the governor’s son done to send the father after him in such a rush?  Or was the son merely a pretext, and Oga was in the capital, busily causing trouble for Akitada?

He finally fell asleep and slept well.

When he returned to the Otomos the next morning, dressed for the trip to Eguchi, the professor’s wife received him.  Her eyes were reddened and her hands shook as she apologized for Otomo’s absence, saying, “My husband is distressed that he cannot see you today.  He became quite ill last night and keeps to his bed.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” said Akitada.  “Is it serious?  Should I go for a doctor? Please tell me how I can be useful.”

She bowed.  “You’re very kind, sir, but it is merely some trouble with his belly.  Something he ate, he says.  He took a laxative.”  She blushed.  “I hope Your Excellency is not inconvenienced?”

Akitada looked at her.  She seemed more upset than her words suggested.  “Not at all.  I trust your husband will soon be better.  Please tell him that my business will take me out of town, but I should be back tonight or tomorrow.”

*

Akitada did not believe that the professor suffered from an upset stomach.  Most likely, he wanted to avoid going to Eguchi with him.  This sudden change of mind was extremely irritating, and Akitada thought he deserved a dose of laxatives.

He returned to the harbor and purchased passage on one of the regular boats between the river towns.  The weather was still clear, but there was a new chill in the air, and the cries of flying geese overhead told of the coming cold season.  Akitada was glad that the oppressive heat of the last weeks had gone.  The cool air seemed to give him new energy.

Even at this relatively early hour, Eguchi’s main street was already busy.  Akitada tried in vain to suppress his distaste for this particular crowd.  Slatternly older women swept before the doors of the brothels, while the younger inhabitants emerged to trip off to the temple up the street.  The religious fervor of females in this profession was legendary.  They were superstitious, worshipped phallic gods, prayed to the Buddha to cleanse them of their sins and send them wealthy patrons, and lived forever in the hope of miracles.  The wine shops were mostly still closed, but a few drunks still lay around in doorways, snoring or eyeing the day blearily.  Food vendors did a good business, shouting out their dumplings and noodles and greeting the passing harlots with obscene comments.

Somehow all this did not match up with his image of the young, beautiful, and very dead girl.  Shaking his head, he turned his steps toward the bamboo grove and the shack of Furuda and Harima.

He heard the clucking of chickens before he got to it, and when he emerged from the bamboo thicket, he saw that there were many more fowl than last time.  The garden, too, had doubled in size.  A new section was freshly dug, and already some young plants were growing in rows.

 “Harima,” he called out, and she came to the door of the shack.  Her face broke into a smile, quickly hidden behind a hand as she came to greet him.  He admired again that inimitably graceful, swaying walk of the great courtesan.  “I came for a little visit,” he greeted her.

She bowed deeply.  “Welcome, my Lord.  Oh, how I wish Furuda were here!  He’s delivering melons and vegetables in town.  Oh, sir, you were so right.  We are doing a lot of business with our garden.  Did you see the new garden with the little cabbages and radishes and turnips?  Please come sit under the tree.  I’ll fetch a cushion, and if you’ll stay a little while, Furuda may return.”

Akitada laughed.  His heart warmed to this old couple all over again.  “I’m very happy to hear you’re both well.  By chance, might there be a melon left?”

“For you, of course.  Oh, sir, we owe it all to you.”  Her eyes shone and she forgot to cover her mouth as she smiled at him.  “A moment, sir.”  Hurrying back to the shack, she returned with a cushion for him and went to cut a melon.

Akitada sat under the tree, watched the chickens scurry out of her way, noted that the shack had a new roof and a door, brushed aside a late bee, and felt cheerful.

The melon was as sweet as last time.  He asked her to share it with him, but she shook her head.  “It would not be seemly.  May I offer you something else?  We have no wine here, I’m afraid.  Furuda has sworn off it.  But I could run to town and be back very shortly.”

He could not imagine making someone of her age run such an errand for him. She was in her seventies, surely, and while she was still slender and moved with great grace, she also moved slowly.  He thought of Seimei and how painful had been his final years because of the many chores he had insisted on performing to the end.  Tears rose to his eyes.  “Thank you,” he said, “but I don’t drink wine this early and I don’t want you to deprive me of your charming company.”

She smiled at him with her eyes and acknowledged the compliment with a little bow, still so practiced that he felt subtly flattered. by her attention.  She had moved close to him to serve him bites of melon.  It was ridiculous to feel attracted to a woman old enough to be his mother, or even grandmother, but so it was.

Putting his mind firmly to the purpose of his visit, he said, “You’re very kind, Harima.  That’s why I came to ask you a favor.”

“If it is in my power, sir, I shall do it.”

“I need some information.  Your past life has given you knowledge about the way the local brothels are run.”

She flushed and turned her head away.  “It has been a very long time since I was a part of that, but please ask your questions,” she said.

Inwardly cursing his blunt language, he said, “The day before I came here the first time, a young girl had drowned in the river.  Do you remember?”

She nodded, her face sad.  “Yes.  She was very young.  It can be a difficult life for the young ones.  I grieved to hear of it.”

She seemed calm, but he noticed her hands, folded now, pressing against her waist.  Even work-roughened and twisted by age, they were still graceful and expressive.  The gesture suggested grief, pain, and pity for the dead girl.

“I was told that she was not Japanese, that she had been brought here from Koryo,” he said.

“That must be a false rumor, sir.  There are no foreign girls in Eguchi.  Unless . . .”  She paused, frowning.

“Unless what?”

“We have many sailors here.  One of them may have brought a woman from that far place, but I never heard about it.”

“The rumor also maintained that not just the one, but a number of young women– mere children—had been taken from Koryo and sold into the trade here because there was a special demand for them.”

Now her eyes widened in alarm.  “Oh, no.  That would be a very cruel thing to do.”

“Yes.But you must know that there are men who find children, both boys and girls, attractive in that way.  The dead girl I saw looked as young as thirteen.”

She shook her head.  “I have known of such men, but not recently.  This particular girl was young, but not quite so young.  And she was one of our people.”

This was news!  Akitada took the amulet from his sash.  “She was wearing this around her neck when she was found.  It’s Korean workmanship.”

She looked at it and shook her head.  “I don’t know where she got this, but she was not from Koryo.”

“Then you knew her?  Or knew of her?”

She said simply, “I was a choja once.  Some of the girls still visit me sometimes to ask my advice.  They tell me about their hopes and fears and about their hardships and jealousies.  She was never here, but several others talked about her.”  She sighed.  “You must understand that women compete with each other, and since they pin all of their hopes on finding a generous client who will buy them out, they often blame each other when they fail.”

That raised an interesting point.  “Then do you think she was driven to commit suicide, or . . . could she have been murdered by a rival?”

Spreading her expressive hands, she said, “I don’t know how she died, and neither do my young friends.  There’s gossip, of course, but I don’t want to spread lies.  I’ve found that you cannot always believe what these young women say.”  She smiled a little sadly.

“Nevertheless, will you trust me?”

She hesitated, then nodded.  “The dead girl was a shinju, that is, she was still in training.  Her name was Akogi.  She lived in the Hananoya, the House of Blossoms.  The Hananoya is the biggest of the Eguchi houses.” She twisted her hands in her lap.  “It’s an unhappy house, I think, and yes, there was jealousy there, but I don’t think it led to murder.  More likely, she found her life too hard.  It cannot have been a happy one for her.  The others thought she had gone into the river herself.”

And that proved once and for all that Professor Otomo, that nice and caring man, had lied to him.  Had lied to him repeatedly with his stories about the kidnapped and possibly murdered Korean girls.  The only conceivable reason he could have had for such an elaborate fabrication was to send him away from Naniwa and from his investigation into piracy.  It made perfect sense.  First they had distracted him with the disappearance of Sadenari, then they had tried to send him on a wild goose chase after kidnapped Korean girls, and finally, when all that had not worked, they had attacked his family in the capital.

But there remained the fact of the dead girl.  Akitada was puzzled by what Harima had said.  It did not add up.  He said, “If she was still in training, why were the other girls jealous of her?”

“Sometimes the owner of a house shows favor to a particular girl and allows her privileges others don’t enjoy.  Akogi was fourteen or fifteen and being groomed for a special presentation.”

“A presentation?”

Harima’s lips quirked a little at Akitada’s puzzlement.  “Some man pays a great deal of money to be the first one.  There’s a kind of celebration with special gowns and musical entertainments.”

Akitada shuddered.  He was repelled by the whole flesh trade that tempted men with foolish and expensive perversions.  And surely the desire to initiate a mere child was a perversion of the sexual act.  Fourteen or fifteen!  The child had no choice in the matter, and that made it repulsive.

They sat in silence for a while.  Chickens clucked, the wind rustled in the bamboo, and the honey-sweet smell of the melon slices lingered in the air.  Harima’s head was bent, her hands clenched tightly.  It occurred to him that she, too, had once been used in the same way.  It was his belief that most of the women in the trade became corrupted by it.  Their only aim was to enrich themselves and thus triumph over their past servitude.  Harima had not followed that path.  He respected her for it.

Furuda returned while he was searching for words to express his regard and sympathy to her.  Akitada saw her face light up and the joy in Furuda’s when their eyes met, and felt a pang of envy.  His own marriage was again stable, and he was very fond of Tamako, but neither of them was demonstrative.  And neither was so completely absorbed by the other.  He had his work, and Tamako had a child and her household to tend.  These two people had only each other.

Furuda slipped off the empty willow basket he had carried slung over his shoulders, and came to greet Akitada with the same warmth Harima had shown him.

“What a happy day, Your Honor,” he said, bowing several times.  “I’ve been worrying how to let you know that you’ve given us back our lives.  We’re doing very well now, Harima and I, and it’s all thanks to your lordship.”  With a wide smile, he gestured to the garden and to his empty willow basket.  I get more orders than I can fill.  Everything I took this morning is sold and they are begging for more.”  He dug a handful of coins from his heavy sleeve, showed them to Akitada and then passed them to Harima, who cried out with pleasure.

“Oh, Furuda, that will pay for firewood this winter.  How wonderful!”  She hurried off with their wealth.

Furuda looked after her fondly and said, “She handles the money.  I’ve got no head for it.  I’d waste it on useless things.  How smart she is!  Firewood, of course.  We nearly froze to death last winter.”  He shook his head in wonder at Harima’s management of their affairs.

Akitada’s eyes moistened.  It took so very little to make these two happy:  a bit of simple food and some warmth during the coldest part of the year.  He said, “Husband and wife share the labors.  It is right that it should be so. You work very hard at growing food and selling it.”

Furuda shook his head.  “She won’t marry me.  No wonder.  I’m nothing and she is a choja.  It’s truly a miracle she stays with me.  I wake up sometimes at night and fear that she is gone.  That’s a terrible feeling.”

Such confidences were beginning to make Akitada uncomfortable.  To change the subject, he asked to see the new garden.  Furuda led him eagerly to the new section, pointing out the different kinds of cabbage plants striving toward the sun, all looking healthy.

Squinting at the sky, he said happily, “The weather is changing.  We’re getting rain.  I won’t have to carry the water up from the river tomorrow.”

Akitada had not noticed the change in the light.  The sun had withdrawn behind clouds that were moving in rapidly.  The breeze had strengthened and turned colder.  It would mean an uncomfortable day for him, but he said nothing.  Instead, he admired eggplants, deep purple among the leaves, and lengthening cucumbers, the sweet potatoes and turnips in the mature part of the garden.  Their season would soon be over, and Furuda would only have the cabbages left.  Perhaps the two old people would manage to get through the winter, but it seemed doubtful.  “What will you do, when the snows come?” he asked.

“I’ll find another job.  If the restaurants don’t need me, perhaps one of the great houses could use some help.  I’m not proud.  I’ll clean their privies.  It will be good for my garden.”  He stopped and looked abashed.  “I beg your pardon for mentioning such a dirty thing.”

Akitada laughed.  “I suppose even great houses use their privies.  Speaking of great houses, do you happen to know anything about the River Mansion?”

“Oh, yes.  That’s the very large house on the river.”  He pointed toward the east.  “Not a chance there for me.  The majordomo doesn’t like local help.  They bring all their servants from the capital.”

“Oh?  Who owns it?”

“I’m not sure.  They say it belongs to the great chancellor, but he never comes here.  He has a splendid palace in Uji.”

“Yes, but I’m told someone lives there, a woman perhaps, and that there are parties with many guests.”

Furuda nodded.  “Sometimes there are parties.  But the guests come from the capital in boats.  One time the place where I worked was asked to send food.  I was one of the waiters who carried all the dishes.  Grilled sea bream in black sauce, pickled vegetables, grilled eels, pike wrapped in persimmon leaves, even blowfish.  A huge feast.  That was when I met the majordomo.  They took everything from us at the gate and sent us back.”

“Very odd.  What about the local brothels?  Do they send courtesans?”

“Harima would know more, but yes, I think sometimes they send for the choja and perhaps others.”

Akitada turned to look at the pitiful hut.  The vines that covered it still bore a few flowers, but soon they would die.  It did not offer much protection against winter storms, yet Harima had found more peace and protection here than she had had in her past life of luxury.

For him there was no peace, at least not yet.  He must return to Naniwa and finish his assignment.  Now that he knew Otomo was a part of the conspiracy, he would force the truth out of him.  It was time, he and Tora got home to his family.

He glanced up at the sky.  The clouds were still gathering and moving quickly eastward.  He should hurry back to Naniwa.  Tora would report either today or tomorrow.  But he was strangely reluctant to leave Eguchi.  Whatever had happened to the girl Akogi, he had come this far, and he would make one more call before putting her from his mind.