Текст книги "Death of a Doll Maker "

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

27

THE ISLAND

The green water boiled around the black rocks, tossing men and parts of the ship mercilessly against the sharp teeth of the island. Most of the men were already dead, drowned or killed by the battle on board.

Tora swam by instinct only, breathing when his head happened to emerge briefly from a wave and fighting against the dark pull of the sea that battered the rocky shore. Eventually he managed to cling to a rock much like barnacles did. Here he rested, his eyes closed, feeling the rush of the cold water hit his back, then pull at him as it tried to suck him back into the hungry sea.

He thought of nothing except resistance to the pull of the water until he heard his name called.

He had to hear it twice before he managed to open his eyes and peer around. Another wave washed over him, but he had seen enough of the open water to know the ship lay impaled on rocks, its masts gone and its body breaking apart. The sea was littered with debris, but he saw no living human beings. A dream, he thought, as the wave receded.

But the shout came again. And this time he looked the other way, toward land. And there on a rock lay a man, looking down at him from a bearded, shaggy face.

Shigeno?

It was Shigeno. He was waving and shouted, “Swim ashore. Hurry!”

Tora was afraid of releasing his rock. The next wave would pull him back out to sea, and he did not think he had the strength to swim. But he could not stay here forever, and there was another rock only some ten feet away. Each time a wave hit, the water would spout up from between the two rocks before receding and leaving for a few moments a calm surface.

He watched the next wave and trying to time it carefully, let go of his rock and plunged into the water. It instantly sucked him out again and he struggled desperately, but then, quite suddenly, he was free and reached the next rock. From there it became easier. The waves did not come in with as much force and he made his way to the shore where his feet met rough sand. There he collapsed, lying prone and exhausted.

Shigeno seized his arm. “Get up! You can sleep later.”

Tora spat out some sea water and sat up. His side protested with a sharp pain that left him gasping. He found that Shigeno’s sash, sodden with water, had slipped to his waist. Looking at the big convict, he said, “By all reason you should be dead, yet here you are and in better shape than me.”

Shigeno snorted. “I’m a better man than you. Besides, I grabbed hold of a hatch cover and let the sea carry me ashore. But no time for chit-chat. We’ve got to get away before they notice us.”

Tora looked at their surroundings. A rocky shoreline extended in both directions. Up ahead toward the west, forest had crept down almost to the water. In the other direction, debris from the capsized ship lay washed up on shore, along with some of the crew. They lay about, exhausted, unconscious, or dead.

Shigeno extended a hand and pulled Tora to his feet. Tora groaned, but Shigeno said again, “No time for that. Head for the trees.”

Together they staggered toward the line of green that showed beyond the black rocks and pale sand. It seemed miles away.

Once there, they paused to peer back at the scene of the shipwreck. Shigeno had been right. Here and there, men stirred. Tora hoped they were too stunned by the disaster and their survival to wonder about the escaped convicts. He sat down cautiously, feeling his ribcage. The cut on his shoulder mostly itched. He hoped the sea water had cleansed the wound so it would not get infected.

“How are your wounds?” he asked Shigeno.

The big man had lost his shirt. He looked down at his broad chest. The knife wounds had stopped bleeding and looked pale. He touched them, one by one. “Mostly superficial, except for this one.” He showed his upper arm where a deep cut to the flesh still oozed a little.

Tora unwound the sodden sash from his waist. “Here, let me make a bandage with this. My side feels fine,” he lied. “Maybe the exercise was good for it.” He hoped this was true.

Shigeno nodded.

As Tora wrapped and tied the makeshift bandage around Shigeno’s arm, he asked, “What next? We aren’t much better off, having landed on a convict island.”

Shigeno grinned. “We’re free. All we need is a boat.”

Tora stared back. “A boat? Is that all?”

“Well, we should have held on to our weapons. Those knives would have come in handy.”

“We have no boat and we no longer have anyone to sail it,” Tora reminded him. “I guess the others didn’t make it.”

“Wrong. Ito didn’t make it. Takeshi’s looking for a boat.”

“Which one’s he?”

“The one that prayed.”

“You’re kidding.”

Shigeno chuckled. “Goes to show, doesn’t it?”

Tora shook his head. “He was good with a knife.”

“Sailors use those long knives all the time. They can do some damage to thick hemp ropes as well as to people’s bodies.” He regarded his arm with a frown. “Well, let’s move on up the coast. There’s nothing for us to do here.”

The broken wreckage and the few—very few—figures on the distant beach seemed a lifetime away. The survivors were beginning to pick through the flotsam, perhaps searching for their friends.

“Terrible!” muttered Tora, shaking his head.

“You’re a softy.” Shigeno chuckled. The big man’s face wore a broad, happy smile, his teeth glinting from his bushy beard. At Tora’s expression, his mouth opened even wider and he laughed out loud.

Tora clamped his hand over the other man’s mouth. “Are you mad? Do you want them to hear you?”

Shigeno stopped laughing and nodded. Tora removed his hand. “How can you laugh?”

“Because I’m alive, Tora. Because I’m filled with joy to be alive to see the beautiful world around me. How can I not laugh?”

The beautiful world was cold, gray, and windy. The sea looked choppy, and a few rain drops struck their faces.

Tora shivered. “Postpone your happy dance,” he said sourly. “We’re still in trouble.”

“You’re right, but I can’t help how I feel. Let’s go then and find Takeshi.”

They started walking along the shore, away from the wreck. It was hard going, because the terrain was rocky and took them up and down, forcing them to trudge inland to skirt small bays and offering little but desolate land with occasional glimpses of the slate-gay sea.

Whenever they rested, Tora asked questions.

“Do you know this place?”

“No.”

“Any idea where they keep the convicts?”

“Near the mine, I’d think.”

“Where is it?”

“Don’t know.”

It was not helpful. And there was no sign of Takeshi who might have been a better source of information. Dusk fell as they approached the sea again. Seagulls circled above, their harsh cries as inhospitable as the weather and the land. Tora was exhausted, and Shigeno had slowed down and stopped often to rest. When they reached a small mossy knoll, Tora suggested a rest. Shigeno nodded and collapsed on a rock.

For a while neither spoke. The seagulls came to look them over, screaming their disappointment at not finding food, and swooped away again.

“This place is uninhabited,” Tora said wearily. “I wish I had something to eat. It’s been at least a day, maybe two.”

“I wish we had some water,” said Shigeno.

They fell silent again. Tora shivered and looked at his companion. If he did not have that scruffy beard and tousled hair, Shigeno might be good-looking. His remaining clothes were mere rags by now, but he was slender, muscular, and not much older than Tora. More interesting were other aspects, not visible to the naked eye. Shigeno was no illiterate thug. He almost seemed wise at times, and his speech was that of an educated man. In addition, he was a formidable fighter and had shown great courage on the ship. How could such a man end up a convict?

But Shigeno had his own doubts about Tora also. He broke the silence first. “Was it the truth that you used to work for a governor?”

Tora smiled. “I still do. I wonder what he’ll have to say about all this.” He paused. “Not just any governor either. I work for Sugawara Akitada, the new governor of Chikuzen province. He’s a famous man in the capital for solving crimes.” He paused again. “I help him,” he added modestly.

“So what happened?”

“We-ell, we barely got to Kyushu, and all hell broke loose. The former governor had been recalled, you see. He left without paying his people. They stole everything they could lay their hands on, and we found an empty tribunal. That bastard Okata refused to investigate, and my master dismissed him.”

Shigeno’s eyes widened. He whistled softly. “I like it so far. Go on.”

“Turns out the former governor never reached home, and we had an investigation on our hands to see what happened to him. I was making some progress with that when Okata and his hired thugs jumped me, beat me up, and left me trussed up like an animal. Turns out that bastard Okata told them to ship me to Tsushima. And that’s how we met.”

“Okata did this just to get back at the new governor?”

Tora pursed his lips. “Well, not quite. I was the one who reported his mishandling of an investigation and his methods. It was personal all right.”

Shigeno laughed and stretched out a hand. “Shake, brother. I’m one of the ones who suffered from his methods.”

They shook hands, and Tora said, “All right. Your turn. What did you do?”

Shigeno’s smile disappeared. “I killed a man, was tried, and sentenced. I’m a convict by rights. The story doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

Shigeno gave him a searching look. “It’s complicated.”

“We have time.”

Shigeno turned his face away. “I don’t like to remember. It’s easier to be no one.”

“I doubt it. How can you wash away the past? It lives with you.”

Shigeno lowered his hands. “You’re right. Since you insist, I grew up in Osumi province. My father had land there, quite a lot of land, but it was poor, so we were poor. There were my father, my mother, my sister, and me. Because we were poor, another man offered my father money for some acres in the mountains. My father refused to sell. It was rough land. Nothing would grow there, but my father and I liked to hunt in the mountains. It was beautiful. You could see for miles.” Shigeno’s eyes misted over as he looked out over the sea.

“What happened?” Tora urged.

“We discovered some men digging on our mountain and sent them away. My father thought they must be searching for silver or gold. Then the same man came to us again. This time he claimed the land belonged to him. Our mountain is on the border between Osumi and Higo. The man was the district prefect on the Higo side. The case went to Dazaifu to be resolved by the assistant governor general. We won. Then, within a month, my father was attacked on the road and left for dead. When he didn’t come home, I went to look for him. He was barely alive and told me the men who attacked him had worn the prefect’s colors. He died in my arms. I carried him home and left immediately for the prefect’s house. There, I killed him in front of his family. I was arrested, tried, sentenced to exile, and our land was confiscated by the government. So, there you have it.”

Tora shook his head. It wasn’t all that rare an occurrence, he thought. Everywhere in the country such things happened, and men in power always ended up getting what they wanted. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Was there silver in your mountain?”

“How should I know? I never got to see my home again. I spent months in the prison in Dazaifu until they moved me to Hakata for transport to Tsushima.”

Silence fell.

Shigeno frowned. “I wonder,” he said and stood up to look around. “I don’t think we were at sea long enough to reach Tsushima. This might be some other island. Ikishima maybe.”

“So we’re lost?”

“Well, yes, but we may be much closer to Kyushu than we thought.”

Tora brightened. “Come, let’s walk again. There must be some fishing village on the coast. We can borrow a boat. And once we get home, I’ll have my master look into your case.”

Shigeno received this promise with a snort of derision. “Forget it. He’ll have no chance against the Dazaifu. I bet he won’t even try. I’m fed up with officials. As for borrowing a boat, how will you accomplish that? Fishermen need their boats. They won’t let you have one without getting paid extremely well.”

He had a point, but Tora waved it aside. “We’ll think of something when we get there.”

To their surprise, they found a house very soon after this. It clearly belonged to a fisherman, because a sturdy boat with a mast lay on shore. Smoke curled from a kitchen shed next to the house.

Tora laughed. “Look, they are even cooking our dinner for us.” He started down the hill toward the house, Shigeno on his heels. They had covered half the distance when they heard the screams.

Tora cursed and started running, Shigeno at his heels. Somehow, they both guessed what was happening. Tora was the first to burst through the door of the small wooden house. The room was barely large enough for the three people it held, and Tora stumbled over the legs of an unconscious man on his way in.

The rest of the floor space was taken up by a woman and the convict Takeshi who was raping her. With one step, Tora reached him, seized him by his hair and pulled him off the woman. Then he hit him. Takeshi screamed. Blood spurted from his nose and trickled into his mouth.

“Here,” snarled Tora to Shigeno. “Tie up this bastard. He just lost his bid for freedom.”

He tried to help the woman up, but she scurried into a corner, looking at them fearfully. She was still young and not unattractive. The unconscious male on the floor was at least twenty years older. Apart from having been knocked out by the disgusting Takeshi, he seemed all right.

Tora sighed. “Well, that settles it. He’ll hardly agree to lend us his boat after this. We’ll have to borrow it without permission.”

Shigeno grinned. “Steal it, you mean?”

Tora turned to the woman. “Your father’s all right. He’ll come round in a little while. I’m sorry about what happened.”

She looked from him to the man on the floor. “My husband,” she whispered.

“Oh, sorry. I’m Tora, and my big friend is Shigeno. The other animal is called Takeshi. We were shipwrecked.”

She relaxed a little.

Tora asked her, “Where are we? I mean, what’s the name of this island?”

She giggled at the question. “Ishida.”

Tora grinned at Shigeno. “You were right. This isn’t Tsushima.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, not Tsushima.”

“Well, we need to borrow your boat. And maybe some food?”

The mention of food startled her into action. She jumped up, stepped over her husband with barely a glance, and ran to the kitchen shed.

Shigeno had found some rope and trussed up the unconscious Takeshi. “What shall we do with him? Leave him here?”

Tora considered. The fisherman looked sturdy enough, but he was short. “It would serve him right, but he might get loose and start all over again. No, he’s under arrest. We’ll take him back to Hakata and put him in jail.”

Shigeno snorted, but he followed Tora to the kitchen shed.

The young woman was stirring a large pot suspended over a charcoal fire. A wonderful smell came from it. Tora snatched up a couple of chipped bowls and held them out to her. “Please,” he begged. “We’re very hungry.”

She glanced at him, smiled briefly, then used a ladle to fill both bowls with the fish and vegetable stew.

They ate hungrily, sipping and slurping the food, burning their mouths, and shoveling in the rest with their fingers. She watched them.

“You can’t have the boat,” she finally announced. “My husband needs it for fishing.”

Tora returned his bowl and flashed her his best smile. “I know. I wish I had money to give you, but we have nothing. We need to take the boat to get back to Hakata. Afterward we’ll return it. With payment.”

She looked anxious. “Are there more men coming? Like that other one?”

Tora thought of the survivors they had left behind. It was very likely they would come this way. He eyed the fishing boat. It looked sturdy and large enough. “I tell you what,” he said, suddenly inspired. “We’ll take you and your husband and our prisoner with us. Your husband can handle the boat, and you’ll both be safe. In Hakata, we’ll pay you, and I’ll buy you the prettiest gown you can find.”

She looked toward the house. “My husband, is he really all right?”

“Let’s go see!”

The fisherman was already stirring when they got back. He was sitting up, holding his head in his hands. It took a while to explain to him. Fortunately, he did not know Takeshi had been raping his wife, and nobody told him. They apologized that their escaped prisoner had attacked him and proposed the boat journey.

The man’s wife said, “They’ll pay good. Fifty pieces of silver.” She shot Tora a sly glance.

“Fifty pieces of silver?” echoed the fisherman, looking stunned.

Tora nodded. “Fifty pieces of silver.”

28

CONSPIRACY

Tora’s fate overshadowed everything else. Even though the discovery of Governor Tachibana’s body ranked as a political incident of the first order, Akitada did not travel to Dazaifu to report and receive instructions. Instead, he and Saburo stayed in Hakata to view Hiroshi’s corpse. The weather had turned cold and wet again, and the doll maker’s son had washed up in Hakata harbor. According to the coroner, he had been strangled.

Immediately afterward Akitada used Maeda’s office to dictate to Saburo a terse account of Tora’s presumed abduction and the recovery of the ex-governor’s corpse.

“Address it to Lord Fujiwara Korenori, Assistant Governor General, Dazaifu. The subject is ‘murder of Lord Tachibana Moroe.’ Write, ‘The body of His Excellency Lord Tachibana Moroe, was discovered today in an abandoned well in Hakata. I await further reports from the Hakata coroner, but it appears the former governor was murdered about a month ago, probably on the day of his intended departure for the capital. The case is being investigated by Lieutenant Maeda of the Hakata police force since all crimes are handled locally in Chikuzen province.

“I must also report the disappearance of my retainer, Lieutenant Sashima, known as Tora. Since he was investigating the disappearance of Lord Tachibana at the time, I shall pursue this matter with all the vigor at my disposal.’”

Akitada paused. Saburo cast a glance at his master and said, “I’ll have Maeda’s staff make copies for our files.”

Akitada nodded. “The usual superscription and conclusion. As soon as it’s written out and copies have been made, it is to be taken immediately to Dazaifu by a tribunal guardsman.”

“The assistant governor general won’t like it.”

“It’s the way the Dazaifu administration set up the system of law enforcement in the Kyushu provinces; let them live with it now.”

Akitada could well imagine that complaints about him would be dispatched to the court, but he did not care. He had made up his mind to ignore the assistant governor general until Tora was found. And Feng must have the answer.

He would deal differently with the merchant this time. On the last visit to the man’s house, Tora had been with him. They had both felt palpable danger there, and Feng had been much too sure of himself. Since then, Feng’s employees had been seen engaging in suspicious dealings with Hiroshi and with foreign ships docked in the harbor. Feng’s clerk had paid off Hiroshi, and Ling had been present when Feng had vented his anger on the clerk later. Akitada had already suspected the Chinese merchant of having had a hand in Tachibana’s murder, but most importantly, he was now his prime suspect in Tora’s disappearance.

He thought about what Tora and Saburo had reported to him during the past month. It had all begun with the murder of Mitsui’s wife. The Mitsuis were both doll makers, and her husband had confessed to killing her and had then committed suicide. Still unexplained was where and how Mrs. Mitsui had earned the five gold coins which had enraged her husband. The business with the dolls was also a puzzle. Why had the brute Ling stopped Akitada from buying or handling some of the dolls on the shelf? Something had been wrong with those dolls.

Hiroshi had probably been killed to keep him from talking to the police. As soon as they had found the bundle of Tora’s clothes in the well, Hiroshi had to disappear. Next Feng’s clerk had disappeared and might also be dead. Akitada felt he had waited too long to arrest the merchant.

An overlooked aspect affecting all those tangled cases was that both Hakata and Hakozaki were shipping ports. Lord Tachibana had been killed before he could board his ship in Hakata harbor. Hiroshi had worked for the privately owned port of Hakozaki, but his body had been dumped into Hakata harbor. Mitsui senior had delivered his dolls to ships docked in Hakozaki but had been sentenced to be transported to the Tsushima mines in a police boat from Hakata. Those who committed serious crimes were commonly dispatched to Tsushima, an island where they worked in the silver mines. Tsushima was very much like Sadoshima where Akitada had been imprisoned in a gold mine. Tora had come to find him then. Could it be Tora this time who had been condemned to the mine? They should have checked with the harbor authorities about recent departures from both ports.

Lieutenant Maeda returned to his office, and Akitada shared his concern. “I think we should check both here and in Hakozaki.”

Maeda nodded. “Yes, of course. A convict boat left with prisoners two days ago, but there were only three convicts, two sailors who got in a fight and killed someone, and a man from Osumi province who had killed a prefect. A police sergeant and guards were on board.”

“Not a likely conveyance then.” Akitada got up from behind Maeda’s desk. “Saburo is busy with a report to Dazaifu. I’d like you to accompany me to arrest Feng. We’ll take some of the constables and soldiers. There may be trouble.”

Maeda looked surprised but did not object. He left instructions to check on shipping, and then joined Akitada.

“By the way, sir,” Maeda said as they rode in a drizzle into Feng’s compound, followed by the tribunal guard, “when I sent for Feng’s clerk again, my constable returned and said the shop was closed. I think the clerk may have become frightened and run.”

“Either that or he’s dead,” Akitada said dryly, looking at the many deep wheel ruts left in the gravel of the courtyard.

Maeda was shocked. “Surely not, sir. I don’t know what things are coming to. Is Feng behind all of it?”

“I don’t know, Lieutenant, but I hope to find out.” He dismounted. Leaving constables and soldiers in the courtyard, Maeda and Akitada knocked on the door.

The same aged servant admitted them. The house was as silent as last time, but there was a subtle difference. Last time, Akitada had had the feeling of being watched by many eyes. Now the place felt merely empty.

“We are here to see your master,” Akitada said.

The old man bowed, but that was all.

Maeda asked in Chinese, “Where is your master?”

The old man bowed again and said nothing.

“We’re too late. He’s gone,” Akitada said. “I think he’s taken his goods and his family with him.”

Maeda stared. “What? Why?”

“I noticed tracks of many wagons in the courtyard.”

“The sly devil! We’d better search the house.” Maeda pushed the servant aside and walked in.

“The men can help you,” Akitada said, and turned to issue commands. He asked the servant, “When did your master leave, and where has he gone?”

The old man bowed, again silently. His behavior frustrated Akitada to the point where he wanted to shake him, but he reminded himself that such loyalty deserved respect. Feng might be a criminal and a murderer but he had inspired devotion in this old man. As he followed the soldiers and Maeda, the old servant brought up the rear, watching everything they did.

The house showed signs of having been left hurriedly. Gaping trunks stood about with some of the fine clothes still inside, a beautiful lacquer screen had been knocked over and broken, and papers covered the floor in what must have been Feng’s own room.

Akitada stooped to look at these, but they were in the same puzzling writing as the account book. He suddenly knew they were wasting time.

“Does Feng have a country estate?” he asked Maeda.

“Not allowed, Excellency. Merchants, especially those of foreign descent, are not permitted to own land.”

“Then I think Feng has escaped to the harbor. Are any Chinese ships in Hakata?”

“Also not allowed. Foreign ships dock at the korokan. But I think there’s one in Hakozaki. Lord Akisuki has a special permit. I wish we knew when Feng left. We’d better hurry.”

*

A break-neck gallop of nearly an hour through Hakata to Hakozaki brought them to the wharf where boats were still ferrying trunks and bundles across the gray, white-capped water to a large ship with a finely carved dragon writhing from its bow.

“Low tide. It’s too shallow for big ships to dock,” said Maeda with a grin of satisfaction. Now we shall see.” He dismounted and walked quickly to the wharf. “You there,” he shouted to some boatmen. “We need a couple of boats. Stop loading. The ship’s not going anywhere.”

On board the Chinese ship, their arrival had been noted. People were shouting and the sailors ran to raise the anchor and the big sails.

“They’re trying to make a run for it,” said Akitada. “Hurry, or we’ve lost him.”

Maeda laughed. “They’ll never make it. Wind and tide are against them, and it takes too long to get out of the harbor.”

Akitada and Maeda were in the first boat across. With them were four constables and four of Akitada’s soldiers. It was a joint operation.

The Chinese sailors had given up their efforts to get under way, and Akitada and the others boarded well ahead of other boats, bringing more support in case the Chinese made objections.

Feng and a man who must be the ship’s captain awaited them on deck. In the background huddled several women and children huddled under a canopy. Feng was white-faced.

As it turned out, his pallor apparently was due to furious anger rather than fear.

He ignored Maeda, who confronted him with the words, “You’re under arrest,” and addressed himself to Akitada who had followed more slowly.

“This is an outrage, Governor,” he shouted. “My family and I were taking our annual journey to worship at the tombs of our ancestors. This is a deeply spiritual journey for us and we had prepared carefully for it. This rude and disrespectful interruption is upsetting my women and children. Please take your men off this ship. If you insist, I’ll come ashore to answer whatever questions you may have.”

Maeda was about to respond equally angrily, but Akitada raised a hand. “Let it be so,” he said. “We do not make war on women and children. Come with us now, and you may return to your family as soon as you have satisfied the investigators. Lieutenant Maeda will stay on board with his men to look for a fugitive.”

Maeda stiffened into a salute, but from his set features, Akitada knew he did not like the order. Akitada not only hoped the search would turn up the thug Ling, but needed to make certain the Chinese ship did not leave Hakozaki harbor without causing a political incident with China.

Akitada took Feng back to Hakata. There, in Maeda’s office in police headquarters, with Saburo and a police scribe in attendance, and began his questioning.

Having been treated with a modicum of courtesy, Feng relaxed. “It is my pleasure to help your Excellency and the police in every way I can,” he said. “I’ve said so before. You had but to ask.”

Akitada smiled coldly. “Good. You may recall my assistant, Lieutenant Sashima, from our recent visit. Where is he?”

“I do remember him indeed. A very impressive young man. Alas, I have no idea where he might have got to. I never saw him again.”

“You may not have seen him yourself, but people who work for you may have done so on your orders. He has been abducted.”

Feng’s eyes widened with shock. “Certainly not. Why would I do such a thing? I see that someone has blackened my character. People hate me because I’m of Chinese descent and have been very successful in this great country. I assure your Excellency that I’m a loyal subject, pay my taxes, and support my community. My reputation is excellent. You may ask the mayor, or the chief of the merchants’ guild, or even the shrine priest. I honor the laws and customs of your country.”

Akitada bit his lip. The man was very smooth. “Where are your employees Ling and your store clerk? What is his name?”

“His name is Masashi, but I could not tell you where they are. Because of my journey to visit my ancestors, I have closed the store and given them time off to see their families.”

“Ling and Masashi appear to be involved in Lieutenant Sashima’s disappearance. I want you to produce them as quickly as possible.”

Feng started to rise. “Of course. I’m sure they are quite innocent, but I’ll see to it right away.”

“You’ll stay here. We’ll send a constable.”

Feng’s face fell. He subsided. “My personal servant is still at my house. He will know how to contact them. Allow me to write a note.”

Akitada nodded, and Feng wrote something one a piece of paper. After glancing at it, Akitada gave it to the constable to deliver.

“Now then,” Akitada continued, “there’s also another matter. You may be aware the body of the previous governor has been recovered from an abandoned well?”

For a moment, it looked as though Feng would deny all knowledge of this, but then he nodded. “I heard a rumor but could hardly credit it. Is it true then?”

“Yes. We are trying to find out who was the last to see Lord Tachibana.”

There was another hesitation, then Feng said, “I gave myself the honor to bid his Excellency farewell and wish him a safe journey that day. I went to the tribunal to see him off.”

“Ah. And when did you leave him?”

Feng’s face twitched. “As it happened, we left together. I went home and his Excellency continued to the harbor.”

“What if I told you a witness saw you and Ling take Lord Tachibana to your home?”

Feng grew very still, but the twitch was still there. He said, “Is this the same person who accuses me of abducting your Lieutenant Sashima?”

“You deny taking Lord Tachibana to your house?”