Текст книги "Death of a Doll Maker "

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

23

DEADLY PASSAGE

He dozed fitfully, waking from time to time to bouts of nausea and the urge to do something, anything. His body would not obey.

He had somehow rolled on his back. Gingerly, he moved his hands. They were tied with rope and rested on his stomach. He tried lifting his arms, but pain exploded in his side hot as fire. He steadied his breathing and rested until it eased. Then he tried moving his feet and legs. They were tied at the ankles.

The stench of tar, human waste, and vomit filled the cold air. The steady slap of water to the hull masked other noises, but eventually Tora knew there were others nearby. Someone wept softly, and someone else mumbled sutras or repeated in an endless murmur Namu Amida Butsu.

He opened his eyes. Darkness. A little faint light crept through the cracks of a trapdoor or hatch above him. He was in the hold of a ship, and he was not alone. He could barely make out three huddled shapes near him and guessed they were convicts.

“Hey?” he croaked, surprised he could make a sound at all.

The praying stopped, but the weeping continued.

“Who are you?” Tora asked. His mouth hurt.

Someone gave a snort that could have been a bitter laugh or a sob. “Nobody. We’re all dead men, and so are you.”

Waves washed against the hull, the boards creaked and the floor beneath Tora lifted, shifted, and plunged. Nauseatingly. Over and over again. And someone still wept. Tora tried to move again. His side told him all was not well. His companion was wrong about his being dead anyway. The dead felt no pain.

It came back to him then: the talk about convict ships and getting rid of him. Well, they had managed it. He was tied up and at sea. The movement of the ship was too violent for a river. How long since they left Hakata? How far to Tsushima?

He could hear muffled sounds above, and faint shouts. They must be deep in the hold of the ship.

The voice spoke up again: “In a little while, they’ll come and drag us up on deck. Then they’ll slit our throats and toss us overboard. Food for the fishes.” He snorted again.

Tora decided it was a laugh rather than a sob. The one who wept was still weeping. A bit more loudly.

“Is that why you’re praying?” Tora asked.

“I never pray.”

“Oh.”

Tora decided his rib did not hurt quite as much as earlier. Though what good it would do him he did not know. His arms and legs were tied. And even if they were not, where could he escape to on a ship?

“I’m Tora,” he said. “What makes you think they’ll kill us? I thought we were going to Tsushima to work in the mines.”

“Same thing. But a lot go overboard before they get there. What crime did you commit?”

“No crime. I was bludgeoned by a couple of devils. Next thing I knew I was here.”

Silence.

Tora stretched cautiously again. His rib protested a little, but the pain was bearable. He realized his wrists were tied in front, not behind him as in Hakata. “Don’t you believe me?” he asked, testing the bond of the rope. When he pulled, it tightened. Not helpful. His wrists started to hurt.

“If you’re telling the truth, then it’s pretty certain they’ll cut your throat before we get there.”

Tora flexed his wrists. He wondered why they’d tied them in front. Theoretically, it was much easier to escape this way. But then they knew he was not going to go anywhere on this ship. The other answer to the “why” also became apparent. He was not wearing his own clothes any longer. He seemed to have on a rough shirt without sleeves and a pair of thin pants cut off at the knee. They had to untie him to change his clothes. He tried raising his feet to see if he could reach his ankles, but his rib gave him another sharp pain, and he desisted.

“What makes you so sure they’ll kill me?” he asked the other man. “I’m strong. I’m a good worker.”

The other chuckled. “As I said, if you’re telling the truth, then your case is personal. Someone wants to get rid of you. Permanently. This is how they do it here.”

“I’m not from here. Just got to Hakata a few weeks ago. You say this sort of thing is common?”

“Pretty much. You made an enemy. Fast work. What did you do?”

“Two actually. One’s a bastard called Okata. I didn’t like the way he was running things and got him fired.”

“Okata? Captain Okata?” His companion whistled. “How did you manage that?”

Tora was working with his teeth on the hemp rope around his wrists and could not answer.

“What are you doing?” asked the other.

Tora spat out some fibers. “Trying to chew through this rope. When I’m free, I’ll untie you.”

“Thanks, I’m not tied up.”

Tora froze. Who was this man to be left unbound? Probably a guard. And he was chatting away with him as if they were sharing a flask of wine.

“Who or what are you really?” he growled.

A chuckle. “A man like you.”

“But you aren’t bound? You can move about freely?”

“Yes. See?” A tall shadow rose beside Tora and waved its arms.

Suddenly afraid, Tora said nothing.

It was silent, except for the slapping of the waves and the rhythmic groaning of the wooden hull. The weeping man had fallen silent also.

His companion sat down again. “I’m a prisoner like you. I just started chewing through my bonds while you were having your nap. I thought I might at least take a couple of them with me before they kill me.”

Relief washed over Tora, then anger. “You could have untied me,” he said resentfully.

“I wasn’t sure you were safe. Convicts bound for Tsushima can be dangerous travel companions.”

Tora accepted this. His fellow prisoner spoke like a man who had some education, was someone like himself. “Well, how about it?” he asked.

The shadow rose again and came closer. “You haven’t made much progress with your teeth,” he observed, feeling the rope around Tora’s wrists. He found the knot and started working it.

“You still haven’t told me your name,” Tora observed.

“You can call me Shigeno. It’s the name my father gave me, though I haven’t used it for a while. There!”

The rope parted, and the relief was huge. Blood flowed into his hands again. Tora massaged his wrists. “Thanks. Can you get my feet too?”

“Get them yourself!”

“One of the bastards kicked in a rib. I can’t bend at the waist.”

Shigeno muttered, but he worked on Tora’s ankles.

“How many are we?” Tora asked. He thought if they freed everyone they might be able to take over the ship.

“Four, with you.”

“Only four? How many above?”

The rope on Tora’s feet parted. He stretched and winced at the stab of pain in his chest.

“Twenty, maybe more. Sailors and armed guards. There’s a policeman among them. Too many. Besides, you can’t fight in your condition.” Shigeno returned to his place.

Another voice from the darkness asked, “Please untie me, too.”

Shigeno snapped, “What good will it do you? Best stay a prisoner.”

“But you and Tora are free.”

“Not free, just able to do some damage when they come to throw us overboard. You two are safe. You’re going to Tsushima. If I untie you, the guards will kill you.”

Silence. Then the man began reciting his prayer again. Tora expected the weeping to start next, but the fourth man remained quiet.

Tora held his breath and struggled into a sitting position. The pain almost caused him to black out. He rested for while, propped against the bulwark behind him and started flexing his leg muscles. He was very stiff after being tied up all this time. How long? He had no idea but guessed it was less than a day but more than four hours.

When his chest hurt less, he tried to get his legs under him and rise. The pain came back, but he struggled on.

Impossible!

He had managed to get on his knees, and this position seemed to ease his ribcage.

“Give me a hand,” he said.

The hand reached for his and hauled him upright. Tora gasped and stood swaying, waiting for the pain to subside again. He noted with surprise that the other man was nearly a head taller. He was also strong. “Anything we can use for a weapon down here?” he asked when he got his breath back.

“Too dark to be sure, but I doubt it. Let me see where you’re hurt.”

Tora took the other man’s hand and placed it on his lower ribcage on the left side. The man felt around, and Tora snarled, “Watch it.”

“Pah. It’s nothing,” said the other. “You’re a crybaby.”

Someone laughed. Since the praying man had not stopped his recital, Tora guessed it had been the weeper. Very funny! He took a few unsteady steps. The motion of the ship was no help.

“Here, wait.” Shigeno grabbed his arm. “I’m going to tie my sash around you. That should help keep the rib in place.” He wound it around a few times, then pulled it so tight that Tora gasped. “Hold still,” Shigeno said and tied a knot. “There!”

It did help. Tora still could not bend very well, but he could move both arms without undue pain and even turn at the waist. “Thanks,” he said. Then he called out to the other two shadows,” Hey, you two. Do you know anything about sailing a ship like this?”

The praying man said, “We both do. We’re sailors.”

“Let’s untie them, Shigeno. They can help.”

“You must be mad. I told you, there are at least twenty men up there. Besides, the ship’s too big for two sailors to handle.”

“What’s your solution? A moment ago you planned to let them toss you overboard.”

The praying man said, “Hey, stop arguing and untie us.”

The other sailor wailed softly, “They’ll kill us.”

Tora snapped, “Maybe, but I don’t think many come back from the mines. If you get away, you can head for the hills and start a new life elsewhere.”

There were no more arguments. Tora and Shigeno untied the convicts and searched for something that could be used for weapons. Even though Tora’s eyes had adjusted, it was still very dark. Unidentifiable mounds of things were piled in far corners. They felt around among pieces of rough cloth to mend sails, rope of varying thickness, and pieces of lumber too long and heavy to be useful.

A rough ladder led up to the hatch above. Now and then, Tora could hear footsteps up there.

Shigeno hissed, “Sssh! I think they’re coming for us. Hurry!”

One of the convicts gasped, but both came to help. They found an iron spike, a broken oar, and a couple of short spars. Shigeno pulled out a grappling hook with a length of broken rope attached, and Tora took the oar, breaking off the paddle end. The rest would make a cudgel or short fighting staff.

Up above, they heard voices near the hatch. Shigeno said softly, “I’ll go halfway up the ladder, grab the first of the bastards, and pass him on to you. You’d best kill him quick and follow. Stand ready!”

It was mad. Tora was conscious of being in poor shape even as he gripped the shaft of the oar. When those above realized their prisoners were free, they would simply slam the hatch cover down again until they reached port and could deal with them.

Shigeno climbed up to the hatch, and Tora took position just below him. The other two sailors waited at the foot of the ladder.

Then the latch cover lifted.

24

REGRETS

Saburo arrived in Akitada’s office out of breath, dusty, bruised, and speechless. Mori and his scribes stared as Saburo gasped and gestured with a filthy bundle of clothes.

Akitada half rose. “What happened?”

Saburo approached and dropped the bundle on Akitada’s desk, where it landed with a thud, unrolled, and spilled the boots.

Akitada recognized Tora’s clothes. He felt himself grow cold.

With another gasp, Saburo said, “They got him. He may be dead. They got Tora, sir.” He sat down abruptly on the floor.

Akitada briefly fingered Tora’s robe, sash, and pants, then studied each boot. “Explain!”

Saburo told of taking Maeda and his men to the abandoned well and how they found that the mysterious bundle discarded the night before contained Tora’s clothes. “We went immediately to arrest Hiroshi. He’s the son of the doll maker who hanged himself.”

“I know who he is. Go on.”

“Well, Hiroshi’s gone.”

Akitada glowered. “Gone where?”

“Sorry, sir. I’m upset. His wife said she didn’t know. Maeda sent his people out to look for him. I came back here as fast as I could.”

Akitada sat staring at him and stroking his chin. Things had progressed from bad to worse. From the tiger’s den, they had now reached the dragon’s lair. Tora was in trouble—he did not want to think of him as dead—and needed help, but what could he do that Maeda’s constables could not do better? This Hiroshi must be found and questioned as soon as possible. Maeda himself had given the man a warning by setting out very publicly for the abandoned well. “Maeda and his men bungled,” he muttered.

Sadamu said, “He couldn’t have known what we’d find. I didn’t know.”

“This was the same place where they found the woman’s body a few days ago?”

“Yes, sir. Strange, that.”

“Not strange. It looks like Hiroshi dumped her body there and when he needed to get rid of the bundle of clothes, he went there again.”

“That was pretty stupid. He must have known the police found the dead woman.”

“Yes. Hmm.” Akitada thought, staring up at the ceiling and noting absent-mindedly the number of cobwebs above his head. “He may not have killed her but heard about the well and decided it was a good place to hide Tora’s clothes. He probably thought the police wouldn’t go back there again.”

“Maybe.” Saburo looked doubtful. “I think Maeda plans to arrest Hiroshi for the murder.”

Akitada stood. “None of this is getting us any closer to Tora. You and I are going to Hakata to look for ourselves.”

Saburo blinked. “On horses?”

Akitada ignored the question. He turned to Mori and the slack-jawed scribes. “Mori, send for the sergeant of the provincial guard. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve changed out of these clothes. Come, Saburo. I have more questions.”

In his private quarters, Akitada flung back the lid of his clothes trunk and brought out a set of comfortable trousers, his hunting coat, and his boots. As he took off his working attire, he glanced at the dirt-covered, miserable-looking Saburo. “Sorry,” he said. “I forgot about your problem with horses. It can’t be helped. You’d better change into something more military.”

“If you insist.” Saburo frowned as he watched his master put on half armor under his hunting coat, and then sit down to put on his boots.

“I have a good mind to have Feng arrested,” Akitada muttered, then went to get his sword from its display stand.

“What for?” asked Saburo.

“I don’t know, but it’s clear the meeting between his employee and Hiroshi has something to do with Tora’s abduction.”

Saburo nodded. “Yes, I told Maeda. He’ll talk to the clerk.”

Akitada buckled on his sword and took in Saburo’s glum expression. “Come, Saburo! With your background as a spy, you can’t possibly be this averse to fighting.”

“I can use a sword, but not well. I clearly cannot ride a horse, to judge by my recent experiences. I don’t shoot arrows. Most of my assignments have involved a stealthier form of warfare.”

Akitada grimaced. “Exactly what I disliked most about your background.”

Saburo nodded. “I’ll do as you say. The gods know, I’d do more than that to get Tora back.” He turned to leave.

Akitada called after him, “When you’re ready, meet me outside in the courtyard. I’ll try to find a calm horse for you.”

It should have amused Akitada, but fear for Tora sickened him every time he remembered that a day and two nights had passed since he had sent Tora after the watcher. Unless they—whoever they were—wanted information, they had killed him already. And if they wanted information, he would wish he were dead.

The worst part of this was that he still had no grasp of the plot that had made the last governor disappear and caused the murder by poison of the beautiful woman Tachibana had loved.

As he walked back to the tribunal office, he pondered the situation.

If Feng was behind Tora’s disappearance, what had he hoped to achieve?

If he had interpreted the meeting between Feng and his men correctly, then Feng had paid Hiroshi. For what? Surely not just to get rid of his clothes. But someone had set the man to watch them, and Tora had followed this man. Where had the watcher taken him? What had Tora discovered that had made him a threat?

And again he cringed at the knowledge that he had sent Tora into danger.

He had sent him into the unknown unarmed. Akitada touched the sword at his side and winced. He had remembered the threat they faced too late to protect Tora.

In the tribunal office, the sergeant of the tribunal guard awaited him. He blinked when he saw Akitada with sword and half armor and saluted stiffly.

Akitada wished he remembered the man’s name. Another oversight. He said, “Thank you for coming so promptly, Sergeant. It seems Lieutenant Sashima has been attacked in the city. He didn’t return from an assignment. You will gather as many of your men as can be spared from watching the tribunal and assist Lieutenant Maeda’s constables in searching Hakata. We are leaving for police headquarters as soon as your men are mounted.”

The sergeant saluted again. “Does your Excellency expect an attack on the tribunal?”

Good question. Anything at all might happen in this cursed place. “No, Sergeant, but a few men should remain. And please find a docile mount for the betto.”

Another snappy salute, and the sergeant was gone.

Akitada turned to Mori who stood beside his desk, looking frightened. “I rely on you to see to things while I’m gone, Mori. Saburo is coming with me.” He went to his desk and put away the documents he had been working on. After giving Mori instructions for the day’s work, he took a look around, and then walked out into the forecourt of the tribunal.

The mounted guard was assembled, some fifteen armed men. Saburo, wearing half armor and a sword, waited beside a horse, clearly postponing the inevitable until the last moment. Akitada nodded to the sergeant, swung himself into the saddle, watched Saburo climb up, and they set off.

Their arrival in Hakata sent the people in the streets running. Akitada wondered what they were thinking. That it was war? Perhaps it was. His fear for Tora had given him a furious anger at the people in this godforsaken place, at the grand officials who had seen fit to send him here, at the assistant governor general in Dazaifu for leaving him without support, at the late Governor Tachibana for having allowed the criminal behavior which had led to this.

At police headquarters, the constables on duty poured out of the building to stare. Akitada stayed on his horse. “Where’s your chief?” he bellowed.

“At the harbor.”

Akitada turned his horse and, followed by Saburo and the soldiers, he galloped to Hakata harbor where his arrival stirred up more consternation. Lieutenant Maeda came running from the harbor office.

Akitada dismounted. “Well? Anything?” he demanded grimly.

“Not much, your Excellency.” Maeda, looking strained, stared at the mounted soldiers and Akitada’s armor. “My men are combing the wine shops and gambling dives asking for information. Most of the reports are unreliable, but a couple of people think they saw Tora following a man with a red rag around his head. The man seemed to be heading for the Chinese settlement. That was on the evening before last. I had a talk with Feng’s clerk. He says he paid Hiroshi for a delivery of goods.”

Whatever that meant.

Too much time had passed. And already the clouds were streaked with crimson in the west as if they were about to rain blood across the earth. Akitada bit his lip. “It makes sense,” he said. “Let’s go to the Chinese settlement. I brought the soldiers to help.”

Maeda called for a horse and gathered his men. They set out for the Chinese settlement as if they intended to conquer a foreign country.

And perhaps they were.

As soon as they passed through the gates into the Chinese quarter, people started scattering. Mothers dragged their children behind them; a toddler stumbled and fell in the path of the horses; his mother threw herself over him; screams from women and children brought men running. Some shook their fists at them; others herded people inside and slammed doors.

Akitada shouted to Maeda to stop. He did not want this. What gave him the right to make war on women and children because Tora had disappeared? He said as much to Maeda and the sergeant of the tribunal guard.

“Nobody got hurt.” Maeda said. “I doubt these people had anything to do with Tora’s abduction, but they have eyes to see. I think it best to go from house to house and store to store in the business district. Someone may have some information.”

“Very well. Tell your men to be polite.” It would take time. A lot of time. Akitada needed to be doing something as his fear ate away at him. It might already be too late.

Maeda gave his orders and the constables dispersed. He and Akitada dismounted to await results.

“Any news about Fragrant Orchid?” Akitada asked to distract himself.

“Nothing beyond the fact that the governor was apparently very much enamored with her. He seems to have been an almost daily visitor in the months before his departure.”

“How did she take his leaving?”

Maeda gave a snort. “She received a generous present, I think. The maid said her mistress looked quite pleased and spent lavishly on new clothes.”

“I see.” It was common enough to pay off one’s mistress. Given the luxurious lifestyle enjoyed by the courtesan, he assumed Tachibana had been especially generous. He suddenly remembered the letter she had left. It suggested a passion which was strangely at odds with her behavior. There had been something about its wording. He bit his lip. Tora’s fate had driven the matter completely from his mind. “What about the other murdered woman? Is it possible that Tora’s interest in the case caused someone to attack him?”

Maeda frowned. “Well, we found Tora’s clothes where Yoko’s body was for a week or more, and since it was Hiroshi who put them there, it seems reasonable that Hiroshi also put Yoko there. He is wanted for her murder. And yes, if Tora discovered something that proved Hiroshi killed her, he would be likely to try to get rid of him.”

More than likely. And Hiroshi would not leave Tora alive. Akitada turned away with a shudder.

Maeda said, “You mustn’t think the worst, sir. We didn’t find Tora’s body, just his clothes. It proves he wasn’t killed, doesn’t it?”

“Perhaps,” Akitada said, “but we cannot be certain.” He clenched his hands.

“Hiroshi is a small-time crook. I doubt he could outwit Tora.”

Akitada did not answer. It was easy to make a mistake, he knew. And sometimes a small thing might be the last mistake a man made.

The constables were returning one by one. No one had seen Tora or the man he had followed. Akitada looked around at the people who were slowly emerging from their hiding places again. They all looked either hostile or frightened. He sighed.

“What are your orders, Excellency?” asked Maeda.

“Keep asking questions, but not here. I doubt anyone here will give any help to the authorities. You must find Hiroshi. I’ll leave you my soldiers. Make use of them. As soon as you have any information, let me know. I’ll be staying at your headquarters for the time being.”