Текст книги "Death of a Doll Maker "

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Maeda studied the smaller prints, then measured them by laying his hand next to them. “You’re right,” he said. He looked at Tora’s boots. “The big one’s about your size.”

Tora placed his right foot on the print and nodded. “It’s mine. You got me, Sarge.”

They laughed and went downstairs again. The murder weapon had not turned up.

“Strange,” muttered Maeda.

Tora said, “If the doll maker told the truth, the murderer came from outside, killed her, and took the knife away with him.”

Maeda grunted. “Well, we’d better talk to the next-door neighbors. I don’t think those constables asked the right questions.

The house to the right belonged to a man who worked in the harbor office and was at work. Mrs. Kubota was middle-aged, hard-featured, and not fond of policemen.

“I told those yokels I know nothing,” she snapped. “Go away and bother other people. I’m busy. Talk to the slut across the street. She has nothing better to do than ogle men.”

Tora eyed the slut’s house with interest, but Sergeant Maeda said firmly, “There has been a murder. It’s your duty to answer questions.”

She glared at him. “The constables took old Mitsui away. You’ve got your killer. So why bother me? Mind you, I could have told you as much a long time ago.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because they were always fighting, that’s why.”

Tora did not like the woman. He said, “Mitsui claims he was away making deliveries and found her dead.”

She snorted.

Maeda said, “Did you see Mitsui yesterday?”

She shrank away from him. “Well, he left in the morning with his cart packed high. But he could have come back. When was she killed?”

“Late yesterday. Did you hear any noise from next door?”

“No. I went to bed early and I sleep like the dead.” She gave an awkward laugh. “I mean, you know, real deep.”

Tora asked, “What about your husband?”

“Him?” She snorted again. “He came home drunk. Passed out before me. I had to shake him awake this morning. If Mitsui didn’t do it, who was it? It’s getting so a person isn’t safe in their own house. The police are useless.”

The sergeant glowered at her, but something had occurred to her. “Maybe it was one of her own people,” she said. “They are violent by nature, as we all know. They don’t believe in the teachings of the Buddha.”

Tora asked, “Her own people?”

Before she could answer, Sergeant Maeda growled, “If that’s the best you can do, Mrs. Kubota, we’ll be on our way.”

Outside he said, “Mrs. Mitsui was his second wife. She was Chinese. There’s a large Chinese ward, Daito-gai, in Hakata. It’s pretty old and they speak our language, but some people still don’t accept the Chinese. Mostly, they keep to themselves, but some like old Mitsui have married Chinese women. Personally, I’ve never seen much difference between the Chinese and us. We’re all doing the best we can for our own.”

Tora decided he liked Maeda.

The sergeant headed for the door of the neighbor on the other side. “A friend of mine lives here,” he said and called out, “Lady Kimura, my pretty! Are you home? It’s me.”

From inside came a soft cry and a giggle. Then the door curtain parted and a tiny, ancient woman peered out. “Is it you, Love?” she asked, bright black button eyes moving from Maeda to Tora. “And you’ve brought me a gorgeous youngster. Bless you, you generous man.”

Maeda laughed and drew Tora forward. “This is Sashima Kamatari, known as Tora. He’s fresh from the capital. Feast your eyes, my dove!” Tora grinned and made her a bow. “Mrs. Kimura practically raised me when I first came here as a raw youngster and took a room in her house. How are you, my dear?” he asked the tiny woman.

“Good as ever. I’ve been working outside. Come on back, both of you.”

They followed her through the little house and out onto a narrow veranda overlooking a tiny garden filled with miniature trees in all sorts of containers. Tora had seen such things before, but in the capital these little marvels, trained painstakingly for years to remain as small as a child’s toy, belonged to the wealthy.

She perched herself on the edge of the veranda and they joined her.

“You admire my little trees, Tora? It gives me something to do,” she said. “Before my husband and the children died, I never had the time for gardening. Now I have too much time, but most of my strength is gone. Sergeant Maeda looks after me like a son.”

The sergeant blushed. “You’re no trouble, Love. But I’m here on business today. Mrs. Mitsui is dead. Stabbed. We think it must have happened last night.”

“Oh no!” The bright eyes widened with shock. “Oh, poor Mei! Someone stabbed her? How terrible!” She twisted her hands together. “Mei never had any luck. That grumpy husband and those unpleasant children, and now this.” She sighed deeply. “I wish I’d known. Perhaps I could have helped her.”

Maeda looked at her affectionately. “I take it you heard or saw nothing. I’m glad you didn’t tangle with a killer. When I heard about a murder in your street, I was afraid for you. You shouldn’t live alone. At least when I was here there was a man in the house.”

She gave him a sad smile. “The men aren’t exactly looking for old ladies like me.”

Tora thought about women alone. The murdered woman next door had also been alone, though not as frail and ancient as this one. “Have there been attacks on women around here?” he asked. “Do you think it could have been a thief? Perhaps she had money in the house?”

Mrs. Kimura thought about it. “No, this is a very safe neighborhood. I’m not a bit afraid.” She gave Maeda a sidelong glance. “I don’t know if they kept money in their house. Poor Mei.” She sighed again. “Her name means beautiful plum, you know. She told me that, chatting over the fence. I think she was pretty once. She said her husband had become unkind, though she was a very hard worker. It was her business, too, you know. He makes the dolls’ bodies, and she painted them and dressed them. Even so, they were very poor. Their children moved away and hardly ever visit. When the doll business was bad, Mei had to go clean the Hayashis’ house.”

Maeda said, “Mitsui left yesterday to take an order of dolls to Hakozaki. Maybe his business was getting better?”

She looked surprised. “I didn’t know. I really don’t pay much attention.”

“You didn’t see him come back by any chance? It would have been after dark.”

She shook her head.

Tora asked, “What sort of person was she?”

“I liked her, but we didn’t talk much. She kept to herself and was always busy. She didn’t have any friends. People are sometimes unkind to those who are different. I think she gave up trying to be nice to people, but she was always pleasant to me.”

“Was it a bad marriage?”

“Ordinary, from what saw. There was an age difference, but Mei was no longer young when Mitsui took her as his second wife after the first died. As I said, she was a hard worker. I expect he liked that.” She said this a little tartly, as if her sympathies were with his wife.

Maeda got up with a sigh. “I wish we could stay, Love, but Okata will be chewing his mustache if we spend too much time on this. He thinks her old man did it.”

She grimaced. “It’s foolish to kill your best ox.”

“Yes, but people aren’t wise when they’re in a temper.”

She nodded. “True enough. Come back, both of you. A lonely old woman gets bored, you know.”

Outside, Tora said, “Nice lady. She’s fond of you.”

Maeda nodded. “She won’t let me do much for her. She sells the little trees and lives on what she earns. She gets good money for them, but it takes such a long time to grow them.”

Tora glanced up and down the street. “Seems strange not more people saw Mitsui or anyone else go in or out of the house.”

“One person saw him leave early in the morning. There was another who thought Mitsui and his cart had passed him on the main road coming back at night just after the watchman had called the hour of the rat, but he’d been drinking and wasn’t sure about it. Besides, that sighting doesn’t help him. He could still have done it. It’s his word against all the blood on him … plus the very suspicious fact he didn’t report her dead until daylight.”

Tora nodded somberly. “Are you giving up?”

Sergeant Maeda shot him a look. “Not yet. I’ll talk to her children next. They have to be told anyway.”

“I need to get back to the tribunal. Since Okata won’t help, there will be a lot of work.”

Maeda slapped his back. “Thanks for your help, Tora. Come back anytime. Oh, and don’t worry about your thieves. I’ll have a word with some people I know.”

5

DAZAIFU

Leaving Saburo and Mori behind to put the scattered documents in order and to hire some servants, Akitada got back on his borrowed horse and set out for Dazaifu to report his arrival to the assistant governor general. He hoped to get some answers about the way his predecessor had left things in the Chikuzen tribunal and to have the missing people and supplies replaced.

It was customary for a governor to travel with a retinue but this was, of course, impossible. Akitada had at least no trouble finding his way. The broad well-paved road ran straight south from Hakata to his destination. On the outskirts of Minami, he passed a post station and lodging house for officials. Both were in good repair and busy. The road was busy with official and military travelers among the usual messengers and farmers’ carts. He noted the large number of soldiers.

Mountains rose on all sides, but the road followed the valley of the Mikasa River. The distance from his new office to Dazaifu was no more than a single post station, and on the way he marveled at the fortifications protecting the central government of Kyushu against foreign invaders. The mountains on either side of the road had strategically placed forts watching the road. The most amazing sight was the mizuki, a huge fortified dam spanning the valley from mountain to mountain. It was a building feat worthy of giants. The only passage was over a bridge across a deep moat and through a narrow, tunnel-like cut through the dam. An enormous gate guarded by soldiers appeared at the other end. Akitada was stopped repeatedly and presented his travel papers. Each time the guards stared at him, then saluted and waved him through. On the other side of the gate, Akitada saw remnants of deep canals which ran behind the earthworks. He had read they could be filled with water from the Mikasa River. The canals had floodgates which could be opened against an invading army.

But these days there was no need for such measures, and he soon saw Dazaifu ahead.

Though much smaller than the capital, Dazaifu resembled it at least in its overall plan. The government center was a walled and gated enclosure to the north of the residential area. No expense had been spared there to erect many large halls and the official residence of the governor general. Like the capital, Dazaifu had a central avenue lined with willows and called Suzako. It took Akitada past offices and dwellings of the officials who oversaw the nine provinces of Kyushu and controlled trade with foreign nations. There was a preponderance of officialdom here. This was not a normal city, filled with ordinary people, and their markets, temples, and shrines. He saw only one pagoda rising above the many roofs.

Akitada felt out of his element. Regardless of the supervision by the capital and the impressive presence of the military, he knew himself in a different world where different rules and laws applied. He could not be more poorly equipped to take on his new duties.

At the main gate to the administrative compound he identified himself again and was admitted and given directions. Once he had reached the assistant governor’s palace, he was taken to him rather quickly. In passing the people waiting in the anterooms, he met with curious stares and a buzz of murmurs. Senior officials walked about in their blue or green robes and official black hats. They looked much the way he did himself, yet someone must have passed the word that the new governor of Chikuzen had arrived.

Fujiwara Korenori, a senior Fujiwara noble holding the third rank, was in his late forties and pudgy like most of his family. He looked businesslike enough in his large office, surrounded by secretaries and scribes bent over documents.

Korenori rose to greet Akitada with a smile. “Welcome, my dear Sugawara,” he said jovially. “You’re early. Had a good journey, I hope? No pirate troubles? Good, good. Let’s go into my private office.” He waved to a clerk. “Somebody bring some wine.” Taking Akitada’s arm, he walked him into an adjoining smaller room. It was furnished elegantly with books, paintings, silk cushions on thick mats, fine lamps and ornate braziers. Akitada thought of his own stripped quarters. He also wondered why he had been hustled away so quickly for a private meeting.

As soon as they had sat down, he passed his imperial orders to Korenori, presenting them with both hands and a bow. Korenori received them in the same manner, raised the imperial seal to his forehead and then placed them on a desk.

He said, “I’ve been informed of your assignment by my cousin, the regent, and also by Counselor Kinsada. You are to take over the administration of Chikuzen while you look into the illegal trading with China.”

Akitada wondered how much Korenori knew of his assignment. When you have been told to find a traitor who might be a very high-ranking man, you tend to suspect even the assistant governor general. Akitada confined himself to agreeing with Korenori about his assignment.

When a clerk brought the wine, neither of them spoke until he had gone again.

Korenori poured. “To your health and a long life, Sugawara.”

“Thank you, sir, and may you have the same good fortune.”

They drank.

Akitada asked, “Do you have additional information for me?”

“Nothing, I’m afraid. Things have been very quiet.” Korenori frowned. “Too quiet.”

“How so?”

Korenori shook his head. “If I knew, you probably wouldn’t be here. I think it will be best if you take things easy at first. No sense in making our man suspicious before we have solid proof.”

Akitada cleared his throat. “I agree completely, sir, but I am faced with some unexpected problems. I am to replace Governor Tachibana who was recalled for cause. May I be allowed to make an initial report on how I found the provincial headquarters upon my arrival?”

Korenori raised his brows. “What do you mean?”

“I had expected to meet Governor Tachibana in person but was told he had already left.”

“Oh, yes. Tachibana was in a hurry to get home. I let him go. Can’t blame the man for wanting to set matters straight. Embarrassing to be recalled before your term is up.”

“I see. But it raises the question about how he left Chikuzen affairs. It is customary for the central government to send an inspector general to approve a governor’s books before a new man takes over. This apparently did not happen.”

“Oh, they dispensed with it. They already knew or suspected the worst and the distance makes it more practical for us to handle the matter here. Tachibana has been properly released, so you needn’t worry about it.”

Actually this news did not reassure Akitada, but he could hardly say so.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said and took a sip of his wine. “However, when Lord Tachibana left, he seems to have dismissed his staff. His entire staff. Without pay. Apparently the servants returned after his departure and helped themselves to anything of value left behind. I don’t know what the former governor may have taken or sold, but at my arrival I found neither furnishings, nor horses, guards, servants, or tribunal staff, with the exception of one elderly senior clerk and a young stable boy. The clerk had the seal and a small amount of gold in his safekeeping, but it is hardly enough to cover expenses.”

Korenori had listened with astonishment. “How extraordinary! What shall we do? I suppose you’d better hire people. Perhaps a couple of the clerks and scribes here in Dazaifu won’t mind moving. And soldiers. Yes, I can supply those. We’ve got plenty of soldiers. The rest is difficult. I just don’t have ready funds. But Chikuzen is a rich province. You’ll raise money there without trouble. Tachibana always did. Just go to the Hakata merchants for a loan.”

Akitada gulped more wine. “I rather suspect it may be the reason why Lord Tachibana was recalled.”

An uncomfortable silence fell. Then Korenori said, “I did not suggest that you engage in anything illegal. In any case, I cannot supply you with funds.” He fidgeted. “I think it will be best if you return to your post immediately. Meanwhile, I’ll set things in motion here. You will have your people shortly. Keep me informed about your activities, both the official duties and the unofficial ones.”

Akitada cleared his throat again. “Under normal circumstances, a province of Chikuzen’s size has a senior secretary and a senior clerk, both of whom hold rank and are appointed by the central government. In addition, there should be an inspector, three junior clerks and a certain number of trained scribes.”

“I’m aware of the rules.” Korenori frowned. “Kyushu is different. Since most of the administrative duties are handled here in Dazaifu, you will not need so many people. As for appointing ranking noblemen, I’m afraid you are all that is allowed. Appoint your own men. I hope you brought retainers with you?”

“Only two men, sir, but they are capable.”

“Under the circumstances, it’s a much better solution than using local staff, don’t you think?”

Akitada bowed, expressed his thanks, and rose. The issue of funds, he now knew, was not a topic Korenori would entertain now or in the future.

6

FLUTE PLAY

Upon his return, Akitada found some changes. For one thing, the barefoot boy in a torn shirt and short pants stood guard at the gate and stepped into his path with a bow.

“Who’ll Koji zay, zir?” he asked with a gap-toothed grin.

His local dialect did not help, but Akitada made out that he offered to announce him. To whom was another question. Mori had said he was not right in the head.

His appearance also was hardly appropriate, but his cheerful manner and the way his bushy hair stood up in stiff tufts pleased Akitada nevertheless. “I’m the governor, Koji” he said, returning the smile.

The boy goggled up at him. “Himzelf?”

“Yes.”

The boy knelt on the ground, touching his head to the gravel.

“Please get up,” Akitada said. “What is your job here?”

The boy stood, still looking awestruck. “Koji’s guardin’ the gate, zir. Koji’s ox herd by perfession. Also good fisherman and growin’ melons. Happy to zerve your honor.” A wide smile showed off the gap in his front teeth.

Akitada kept a straight face. “Thank you, Koji. You can let me pass now.”

“Yezzir.” He hopped aside, and Akitada rode in and dismounted. “Take the horse to the stable.”

Koji looked at the horse, then back at the gate and at the horse again. “Can’t do.”

“Of course you can. What do you want me to do with the horse?”

Koji twisted in agony. “Maybe you take him?”

It was funny, and Akitada chuckled. Perhaps this new servant was just another example of the many difficulties facing him, but the boy’s difficulty over deciding which of his duties was more important made him likable.

And perhaps Akitada’s own problem was not so dissimilar. Should he make the administration of the province his first priority or the secret assignment he had been given?

“Koji,” he said patiently, “I’m the governor. What I tell you to do must be obeyed before anything else. Do you understand?”

Koji’s face brightened. “Very good!” he cried and came for the horse. “You got it, zir. Very smart, bein’ a governor.”

Chuckling again, Akitada walked into the tribunal hall. The wooden floors shone. The dais held a brocade cushion in its center and two small scribes’ desks on either side, each with its own pillow of plain stuff.

Nodding his approval, he passed into his office. Here, too, changes had been wrought. New shelves held document boxes, and two desks faced each other, each with a cushion and a set of writing utensils. Mori sat at the smaller desk doing some paper work. He rose and bowed. Akitada looked around. “What happened?”

Mori was clearly uncomfortable. “I’m afraid you may not like it, Excellency. They brought back what they took.”

Akitada shouted, “Saburo?”

Saburo, neatly dressed in blue robe, black sash, and hat came in. “You’re back, sir. Sorry. The gate guard leaves much to be desired. He didn’t announce you.”

“He will learn. Besides, I made him take my horse.”

“Oh. That should have been done by the stable boy.” Saburo frowned. “I’m afraid they’re pretty uncouth still, sir.”

“Give them time. I’m amazed by what you and Mori have accomplished. What about the furniture?”

“People have been showing up all day, carrying this and that, saying ‘We were keeping it safe for the new governor.’” Saburo grimaced. “They hoped for a reward, but I merely thanked them, reminding them it was their duty to maintain good relations with the governor and his staff.”

Akitada laughed. “You think they were our thieves?”

Saburo exchanged a glance with Mori. “Oh yes. They got worried we’d find out and punish them. Mind you, there are some hold-outs, and we still only have four horses and an ancient ox back, but I thought it best to accept the returns for the time being. Come see your private rooms. They look much better already.”

They did indeed. Akitada’s study now had some nice reed mats on its floor, and there was another desk and two rather plain old screens to keep out drafts. Bamboo shelves stood ready to receive his books, far more than he had brought with him. A small stand held a brazier and a small iron pot to heat wine or water for tea. Several lamps, both lanterns and pottery oil lamps stood about. His clothing trunks were neatly arranged against a wall.

But there were no pictures. The lighter rectangles on all the walls remained blank. Lord Tachibana had taken all the art. Perhaps the scrolls had belonged to him, but given the many pale rectangles in the tribunal, Akitada did not think so. Three years did not produce such changes.

He took off his sword and placed it on its rack and complimented Saburo on all the work he had done, remarking on how clean the rooms were.

Saburo said, “Oh, the servants have returned to stay. Having handed over the furnishings, they assumed their former positions. There’s even a cook now, so we can have hot meals. Mori was opposed, but we needed servants.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to employ people who’ll rob you blind in the blink of an eye, but let it be for the time being. We’ll keep an eye on the whole pack of them and fire anyone who doesn’t give complete satisfaction.”

“Exactly my thought, sir. Do I assume I’m to be major domo then?”

“Betto rather. You’ll be in charge of the entire tribunal staff. And you’ll also continue as my private secretary. Mori will be senior clerk, since he is familiar with the work. Tora will serve as inspector. I suppose he’d better become Lieutenant Sashima. It appears such appointments are left to me. Both of you will receive official salaries.”

Saburo grinned and rubbed his hands. “I’m going to enjoy this, sir. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to organize the servants.”

He disappeared and Akitada sat down with a sigh. He was quite sure he would not enjoy his assignment. As always when he was alone and at leisure, he thought of Tamako, and his insides twisted with fear for her and brought tears to his eyes. He missed the children, too, and all the others, even the dog Trouble. How simple and happy his life had been, and how foolish he had been to be bored.

With a sigh, he rose and unpacked his books, placing them on the waiting shelves. Last, he laid his flute next to them, wondering if he should feel like playing it again. It had been so much a part of his family life as he had played for the children, or sometimes for the koi in the small pond below his veranda. His heart contracted and tears rose to his eyes when he imagined that he would never see any of it again.

He was interrupted in his morose memories by Tora, who walked in, saying, “That’s more like it! Did Saburo tell you what happened?”

Akitada nodded.

“It’s the work of a nice fellow who’s a mere sergeant with the Hakata police. He went behind his chief’s back to talk to the people here and threaten them into returning the stolen goods.”

“Really? What’s wrong with Captain Okata? He seems to have a dislike for governors. Or perhaps only for me.”

“He’s incompetent. They laugh at him behind his back. All the real police work gets done by Sergeant Maeda.”

“Hmm. I wonder if Okata is covering up the shady activities in Hakata. It suggests he’s either one of the criminals or too incompetent to be a threat.”

“Well, he’s incompetent all right, though he may also be a crook.” Tora reported on the murder of Mrs. Mitsui and the progress of the investigation.

Akitada nodded. “Hakata and its affairs are part of the provincial administration. Perhaps they need to be reminded of it. Can you keep in touch with developments through Sergeant Maeda? I’d like to know the outcome of this investigation. Perhaps it’s merely another domestic crime, but if the Chinese are involved, I want to know about it.”

“Glad to, sir. Maeda and I are making friends, and Hakata is an interesting place.”

“Yes. Saburo will also do some exploring as soon as his domestic chores are taken care of. You’ve done well, both of you. By the way, I’m appointing you provincial inspector with a rank of lieutenant. Saburo is to be the betto and manage the tribunal staff. Mori will become senior tribunal clerk.”

Tora grinned. “Thanks. I’ll have to see about a uniform.”

But their satisfaction would be short-lived. The big problems still existed. Akitada said, “We must be careful what we say around the local people, even Mori and the stable boy. You will remember, won’t you?”

“Saburo said the same thing, but the old man and the boy were the only ones that made us welcome. Surely they can be trusted.”

“Someone may have placed them here to find out our plans. At the moment, we seem to have restored some order and sanity, but it can be dangerous to trust too much in appearances.”

“Oh.” They looked at each other, both serious now. Then Tora walked softly to the door and pushed it open to stick his head out and look up and down the corridor. When he had closed the door again, he said, “We may have to talk outside in the garden.”

“At least it’s the season for it.”

As soon as Tora left, Akitada went back to the tribunal office. Mori was arranging the provincial documents on their shelf.

“Anything missing?” asked Akitada.

“Not so far, Excellency. But what a thing to do! If I find out who is responsible, I’ll take his name for punishment.”

“I have decided to appoint you senior clerk, Mori.”

The old man gaped. “S-senior c-clerk, sir? I was only a junior all these years. The senior clerk is always someone of higher rank and with university learning. I am neither.”

“It doesn’t matter as long as you’re familiar with the work required of a senior clerk. Are you?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve done it in the past when the senior was not available.”

“Very well. You are now senior clerk.”

Tears rose to Mori’s eyes. “Thank you, Excellency. Thank you very much. I shall endeavor to give satisfaction.” He knelt and touched his head to the floor.

“Don’t do that,” said Akitada. “Remember your new position.”

“Yes, of course. Sorry.” Mori popped back up, saw the smile on Akitada’s face, and chuckled, rubbing his hands.

Afraid of more outpourings of joy, Akitada said quickly, “To work then. I have many questions about the daily affairs of the province. You can be a great help to me. I’m not Lord Tachibana and will probably do things differently, but let’s start with the routine you’re familiar with.”

Mori was eager to explain. As it turned out, the last governor had only spent an hour or two each day in the tribunal office. He had rarely heard criminal cases, leaving this to the judge and court attached to the Hakata police station. During the hours he had spent with Mori, he had gone over the account books and tax registers.

His Excellency was very particular about assessments,” said Mori. “He was forever finding reasons to raise taxes, and many a time we set out to inspect rice fields and manors. Almost always he found some reason to raise the assessment.”

Akitada frowned. “I see. The content of the granary doesn’t show much profit from this.”

“Oh, the expenses of the administration are paid in rice. And so was his Excellency’s salary.”

Akitada nodded. He knew anything beyond the moneys paid out to him in the capital, funds meant to cover travel expenses and his first year’s salary, should come from Chikuzen’s taxes. It was a reasonable arrangement, given the danger of shipping gold on the pirate-threatened Inland Sea. But the granary had contained a very small amount of rice, not enough to see the inhabitants through a season after a bad harvest or some other crisis. He did not say this, though.

Mori produced the tax registers. They sat together looking at the entries, most in Mori’s neat writing with occasional broader and more careless brush strokes marking changes Lord Tachibana had made.

“Did you like your master?” Akitada asked.

This startled Mori. “I … I admired him. He was a man of elevated learning, a connoisseur of the arts. He was quite brilliant.”

The tax registers were dull work. Akitada closed them and looked at the old clerk. His question had made the man nervous. “It’s all right,” he said with a smile. “I won’t tell him what you said. So he liked art?” He glanced up at the walls where scrolls had been hanging. “I noticed he took his pictures with him.”

“Oh, yes. He was very particular about having us pack them correctly. To protect them against moisture on the ship. I was surprised he didn’t go with them.”

“You mean he sent them on a different ship?”

“Yes. He decided at the last moment to change his plans.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It happened after he left here.” Mori frowned. “His captain sent one of his sailors to ask if the governor had really changed his mind, but his lordship was already gone by then, and so the captain had no choice but to leave without him.”