Текст книги "The Crane Pavilion "

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

28

Twilight before the Dark

They carried him home on a litter. By then the sun had risen and the mist dissipated enough for Tora, who walked beside the litter, to see clearly the white, still face and the traces of blood on his master’s lips. He had seen enough battle casualties to know that things were very bad and was tempted from time to time to make the bearers stop so he could check to see if his master was still alive. But he controlled himself. Getting him home was the most important thing now.

The bearers were constables from the Sixth Ward. He had also sent someone to the Sugawara family’s physician. Tora hoped he would meet them at the house.

Genba answered their pounding, gasped, and threw wide the gates. They brought in the litter, hesitated for directions, then followed Tora into the main house.

In Akitada’s room, Tora unrolled the bedding. “Where’s the doctor?” he snapped at Genba.

Genba, his eyes wide with shock and his face pale, came to help. “Doctor? How bad is it?”

“Bad. Go see about getting the doctor here. Send the boy. Tell him to hurry.”

Tora pushed a bearer aside and put his hands under Akitada’s torso to lift him. “Careful!” he hissed as they laid his master down on his back. Akitada did not open his eyes, but a slight twitch passed across his face.

“Sorry, sir,” Tora muttered, kneeling beside him.

The bearers stood around the litter, until Tora looked up. “You can go,” he said, adding belatedly, “Thanks.”

Then he looked at his hands and saw they were covered with blood.

The next space of time was among the worst Tora had ever passed. As the morning light made its way into the room, he saw that blood had soaked into the dark silk of his master’s robe. There was too much of it, mostly toward the back, and perhaps the bleeding had not stopped. Tora was afraid to move his master again to see. Where was the cursed doctor?

The doctor who came was a new man. Their previous physician had died. This one was irritated and only half dressed, having been pulled from his bed by the boy. He bustled in, glanced at the patient and told Tora, “Open those shutters. I need light.”

After a brief check of Akitada’s pulse and appearance, he asked, “Where’s the wound? I see some blood but no wound.”

An irrational thought passed through Tora’s mind. Perhaps there was no wound. Perhaps this was someone else’s blood, someone his master had fought with. Common sense rejected it. “Probably in his back,” he said dully.

“Why didn’t you say so? Help me take his clothes off and turn him over.”

Genba had tiptoed into the room with the doctor. Together, they undressed Akitada. They were as gentle as they could, removing layers of clothing with shaking hands, and then turning him on his stomach. His back was covered with blood.

“Water!” barked the doctor.

Genba ran.

Meanwhile the doctor probed for wounds. “Knife thrusts,” he muttered. “Two. Maybe more.”

Genba returned with Hanae, who carried a basin of warm water. It was she who cleaned away the blood.

The doctor shook his head and tsked. “Only two, but deep. Not much bleeding now, but that may mean it’s all but over.”

Hanae cried out in protest, and Genba sucked in his breath.

Tora seized the doctor by the neck of his robe and snarled, “You bastard! You’ve done nothing for him yet. Don’t you dare say it’s over. He’s still breathing. Get busy, and if you don’t do a good job, I’ll personally help you to hell.” He released him with a push.

The doctor muttered something, but he scurried to his bamboo case. There he unearthed ointments, plasters, bandages, and various herbal medicines. He busied himself with applying a yellow paste to the wounds, then covering them with large plasters. While Tora and Genba held Akitada, he bandaged his torso then indicated that they could lay him down again.

After cleaning away more blood, Hanae covered their master with a quilt. Then they all looked at the patient.

“He’s breathing,” said Tora.

“Barely,” said the doctor spitefully.

“I wish he’d open his eyes. Is he in pain, do you think?” Hanae asked.

The doctor growled, “No. He’s already where you cannot feel pain anymore.” Tora clenched his fists and hissed. The doctor scooted away a few steps. “I’ve served noble families for many years,” he said angrily. “It grieves me to find Lord Sugawara like this, but threatening me isn’t going to save his life.”

Tora looked away. “Just do the best you can,” he muttered.

“I’m done for the time being. Those packets contain some herbs. If he lives long enough to get the fever, boil them in some water and try to make him swallow the liquid. You can send for me, if there’s a change.”

And with that, he turned to leave.

“Your fee, doctor,” cried Hanae.

“You can send it later.” And he was gone.

They knelt beside their master without speaking. Genba brushed silent tears from his face. After a while, Hanae said, “The children! I should bring them.”

They all knew what she meant. Their father was dying, and they had a right to be by his side.

Tora nodded. “The children first, then the others.”

*

The journey into the darkness was very painful. Akitada thought for a while that he had arrived in one of the many hells, the one inhabited by the devils with the long knives. He knew he must run to escape them, but his feet were heavy … so heavy … and he needed sleep. He had not slept for so long and now his eyes would no longer stay open. And so one of the devils caught him and he felt the pain of his knife plunging deep into his back and fell.

Much later he thought about being in hell. There would be no Tamako there. Nor his small son Yori. He hoped they knew he had tried to reach them, had tried very hard and had failed.

He had failed them in so many ways.

Tora’s face appeared before him. He looked angry, as well he might. He had let them all down. Even at the very end. There had been something. Something urgent and important he had had to do. But it was gone. Failed again. He had given them grief instead of joy, poverty instead of comfort, abandonment instead of protection. No wonder they were angry. No wonder they wept. The weeping troubled him a good deal.

What of his other children? They too would be abandoned, now that he was taking this dark road to a place from which none returned. He had abandoned them just as his own father had abandoned him. No, that wasn’t right. It was he who had abandoned his father. He had chosen Seimei instead. And now he was choosing to be with Seimei in death. We die to repeat our mistakes and sins.

On grasping this truth, the darkness seized him again.

*

The children and the others had left again, and only Tora and Genba remained. They sat beside their master, one on each side, much as if he were a corpse already. Neither man had prayed, though the women had.

Genba thought of his master’s children, sighed, and shook his head. They had not cried, but their eyes had been filled with pain and fear. It was all happening to them again, first their mother and little brother, and now their father.

Tora watched him and asked, “What?”

Genba started. Seeing Tora’s eyes on him, he said, “The children. I cannot bear it. What must they be feeling?” And his tears came again until he covered his face in shame.

Tora said fiercely, “They are strong like their father. He’ll live. I know he will.”

Genba sniffed and nodded. “I’m sorry. Shokichi’s pregnant. It makes a man protective,” he said apologetically.

Tora sighed. “You’d better go and tell Saburo. He has a right to know.”

Genba nodded and got to his feet.

But at the jail, they turned him away. Orders from the Superintendent, they said.

Genba went to Kobe’s office, arriving there the moment Kobe himself got in. He saw Genba, frowned, then paused to give him a second look.

“Anything wrong?” he asked brusquely.

Genba was past caring about proper greetings and bows. His voice choking, he said, “The master’s dying. I need to tell Saburo, but the guards turned me away.”

Kobe stared. “What?”

Genba sighed and started over, “There’s not much time, I think. Tora sent me. The doctor said—” He stopped for another gulp of air and said, “Tora found the master before daylight this morning. Someone had stabbed him in the back. Twice. He must’ve been lying in that alley all night. The doctor says there’s no hope. He may die any moment.”

Kobe had turned white. He said to one of his officers, “Go to the jail and bring Saburo. Be quick about it.”

Genba’s knees started shaking. “Thank you, sir,” he muttered.

“Sit down and tell me what you know.”

So Genba did, and then Saburo came, hovering between disbelief and shock. And Genba told the story again as they walked back, Kobe in the middle and Genba and Saburo on either side. Three of Kobe’s police officers followed behind. By the time they reached the Sugawara compound, Kobe knew all about Kanemoto, Phoenix, the secret house near the Rokujo Palace, and their somewhat tenuous connection to the trial of the blind shampoo girl. He made his officers wait on the veranda of the main house and went in to see Akitada.

Tora rose when they entered. The room was dim again. A sharp smell of herbs and a faint whiff of blood hung in the air. Kobe nodded to Tora and bent to look at Akitada.

Tora said, “He’s not moved, sir, but he’s still breathing.”

Kobe nodded. “The doctor has given up hope?”

Tora looked away. “What do doctors know?”

Saburo went to kneel beside the bedding and touched his master’s hand. “He feels cold,” he said. “It might be from losing so much blood.”

Nobody said it, but they all thought, “Or because he’s dying.”

Tora bethought himself and brought a cushion for Kobe. The superintendent shook his head. “No,” he said. “I have delayed too long. This wouldn’t have happened if I had trusted him and taken action. Now there is nothing I can do for him except finish his work. Send for me if there is … any change.”

And with this he nodded and left.

Saburo wiped his face and looked up at Tora. “Does that mean I’m free to stay?”

“I don’t know. I think so.” Tora sat back down.

Saburo bowed his head. “I have done this,” he said. “I have brought nothing but evil fortune to all of you. And now I’ve killed him, too.”

Tora said fiercely, “Shut up! He won’t die.”

Genba sighed. “I suppose I’d better see what needs to be done. What do you think Kobe is up to?”

Tora eyed him bitterly. “He’ll find Kanemoto and Phoenix and arrest them. Then he’ll stop the trial. After that he’ll get the bastard who knifed the master. It will all get done, but I’d give anything if it had gotten done without this.”

Genba left, and Tora and Saburo sat together, watching anxiously for Akitada’s every breath.

29

Kobe Risks All

Superintendent Kobe left the Sugawara house with a heavy heart but a quick step. His men could barely keep up with him. As he walked, he issued orders and as soon as they reached police headquarters, they gathered constables who dashed off in different directions. Kobe himself went to the jail to talk to Sachi.

He found her sitting dejectedly on her pallet, but she raised her head when she heard the lock. In the manner of the blind, she did not look at him directly but cocked her head to hear better.

“Sachi?” he said. “I’m Superintendent Kobe. I have some more questions to ask you.”

She got on her knees and bowed. “Thank you, sir,” she said, “but I’m to go to my trial this morning. Surely it’s too late for questions. Forgive me, but I’d hoped to spend the little time I have left with my thoughts and prayers.”

He felt a pang of pity, and somehow this confirmed him in his decision. “I’m here because I hope to help you. You have friends, you know, and your friends have been working very hard to prove that someone else killed Nakamura. Even at this late hour, we may be able to set you free.”

She sat up a little at his words. “Oh, I remember. Two men came to see me here. Are they the ones? They said they were going to help, but they didn’t come back, and I thought they’d given up.”

He explained how Saburo and Tora, and finally even Akitada had become involved in her case, and she grew thoughtful.

“It was very good of them,” she said. “But why would they care about me? I don’t understand any of this.”

Kobe could see that what Akitada and his men had done passed understanding for most people who acted either out of self-interest or obligation. He started again, and this time Sachi began to look hopeful.

“Oh,” she said. “They did all that for me? They must be saints.”

Kobe did not tell her that Akitada would most likely pay with his life for her freedom. Instead he asked his questions.

“I was told you left the room at the Daikoku-yu because Nakamura made sexual advances. What did he do that upset you?” He had been troubled by this because, like most people, he assumed that shampoo girls who worked in bathhouses were accustomed to earning extra money by performing sexual services.

Sachi blushed and covered her face. “He asked me to use my mouth … to do a dirty thing. I said that I didn’t do such things. Then he touched me.” She gestured to her breasts and groin. “I … I didn’t want to make a scene and I made an excuse to get some lotion. I told Jinzaemon, but he made me go back and finish my job.”

“Did you make an exception with Nakamura or would you have refused sexual services to anyone?”

“To anyone, sir. I made it clear to Jinzaemon that I would not do such things. He didn’t like it. I think I was about to lose my job.”

“I see. Now to a more important question. Do you know who might have killed Nakamura while you went to get the lotion?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you hear or notice anyone near the room when you left it or when you returned?”

This time she did not answer right away. She sat very still, then said, “It’s a long time ago now, but I think there were two people there. One was outside the room when I came out. I heard a footstep walking away. It sounded heavy, and so perhaps it was a man. The other I passed in the corridor when I came back. I smelled her.”

“A woman?” asked Kobe quickly.

She nodded. “I’ve thought about this ever since Shokichi’s friends came to talk to me. They asked the same questions. I smelled a scent. It was a woman’s scent. I think it was a special incense. Sandalwood and something else, maybe fragrant olive. It was quite strong. But there was another odor.”

“What other odor?”

She blushed again. “I smelled blood. I didn’t realize it was Nakamura’s until much later.”

Kobe stared at her, then understood. “You think she had just killed Nakamura?”

Sachi nodded. “Perhaps. I smelled blood, but it was very faint on her.”

“Is there anything else you recall about this woman?”

She thought. “She walked fast, and she wore silk. I heard it rustle as she passed me. The man earlier had not worn silk. He didn’t make that sort of sound.”

“Good! That will be helpful. Now, do not worry. If I cannot stop the trial, I’ll be there and make sure the judge hears this new information.”

Sachi bowed again, very deeply. When she straightened up, her face was wet with tears, but she smiled.

Her beauty took Kobe’s breath away

*

When Kobe got back to his office, Lieutenant Harada was waiting.

“The house was empty, sir,” he announced.

Kobe nodded. “It was to be expected. You searched the place?”

“Yes, sir. The house was filled of women’s things, gowns, mirrors, make-up boxes, trunks. I’ve never seen so many clothes. Phoenix must have owned at least four trunks full of clothes for every season. And all of them were the best silks and brocades. Who could imagine a whore would have all that?” The man rolled his eyes.

“No need to be impressed, Harada,” Kobe said. “She’s a ranking courtesan, and her clothing was probably on loan from the house she worked for.”

Harada shook his head. “What’s the world coming to? Kanemoto dared buy a house for such a woman next to the Rokujo Palace?”

Kobe sighed. “Thanks to lax policing, the man is quite wealthy. As are a number of other unsavory characters involved in this. This is connected with the case of the blind shampoo girl and the murder of the moneylender. Go on with your report.”

“There was nothing else of interest in the house, though it looked as if they’d left suddenly. There was stuff strewn about everywhere. But we didn’t find anything incriminating until we got outside. There must have been a fight near the back gate to an alley. We found the dirt all scuffed up. And out in the alley we found blood. We followed a trail of blood, and there was one place where a lot of blood had soaked into the ground. I think that’s where Lord Sugawara must have fallen.”

Kobe wondered if Akitada was still alive and if he should send to ask, but decided against it. “Yes. Thank you. I want you to stay here and keep the search for Kanemoto and Phoenix organized. Send for me if there’s an arrest. I have to see Judge Hirokane but should be back in an hour.”

*

The judge lived in a quiet residential street west of the Daidairi. Kobe’s thoughts were on Akitada and on the conspiracy that had brought them all to this point. He was driven by shame and anger that he had been manipulated to allow such a miscarriage of justice.

Judge Hirokane was a part of that conspiracy, and Kobe intended to find out just who was behind it. It would cost him his position and ruin the future of his children, but at least they would know that their father had, in the end, made the right decision.

Even if it was too late to save his friend.

Kobe was admitted by a servant and greeted by a very surprised judge.

“Superintendent Kobe! What gives me the honor?” the middle-aged, heavy-jowled man asked with a puzzled expression. He looked past Kobe for his retinue and found no one. “And all alone?”

Kobe kept his face expressionless. “What we have to discuss is best said in privacy.”

The judge compressed his lips. “I see. Well, do come in. I have very little time. I hear a case in less than an hour, you know.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here. You must postpone the trial.”

The judge’s sparse eyebrows rose. “Impossible, my dear sir. Much as I respect you, the law must take its due course.”

They had entered the judge’s study, a musty, dark place with dusty books and documents piled up here and there. Only the judge’s desk was bare, but it bore the rings and stains familiar from wood surfaces in cheap wine shops. Apparently the desk was mostly used for eating and drinking.

Kobe sat down while the judge rummaged about for wine to offer his guest, and finally shouted for a servant. Kobe said, “Nothing for me, if you please. I’m working.”

“As am I,” said the judge, looking resentful. The servant appeared and was dismissed.

Kobe wasted no time. “The blind woman is innocent. My men are even now on their way to arrest the real killer of the moneylender Nakamura. You must stop the trial.”

Biting his lip, the judge spread his hands apologetically. “I’m afraid you bring me this information too late. I might add that the prompt resolution of this case is of particular interest to a very important person.”

“And who is that?”

“I’m not at liberty to reveal his name.”

Kobe leaned forward and said angrily, “You’re implying that this person is more important than the superintendent of police? That someone is interfering with the proper investigation of crimes in the capital, and doing so over my objections?”

Judge Hirokane looked a little uneasy. “I was under the impression that you had been informed.”

“Informed of what?” Kobe swelled with righteous anger. “I was informed of the time of the trial, and that was by you, and several days ago when the investigation was incomplete. You, my dear sir, are not in a position to overrule me.”

Hirokane looked away. “Well, I thought you had approved. If you were not contacted, it must have been an oversight. I can only say that the matter is out of my hands. And now I had better get ready.” He made a move to rise.

“Sit down,” roared Kobe, “and listen!”

The judge gaped at this rude command in his own house, but he complied.

“If you go ahead with the trial of an innocent woman, I shall attend and I shall make a public protest. If we have the real killer by then, she will be brought before you, and I’ll make certain that everyone in attendance will know that you planned to sentence an innocent woman because you were told to. So neither you nor whoever is behind this will escape the outrage of the people of this city, and you may be sure His Majesty will order an investigation of the affair.”

Having turned rather pale, the judge shook his head and said through clenched teeth, “If I obey you, I’m lost. But I think, if you proceed in this matter, you too will be lost.”

Kobe’s heart sank. He had failed. Getting to his feet, he said, “So be it then,” and left.

He returned to headquarters, hoping to find that Kanemoto and his woman had been arrested, but there was no news. He next walked over to the jail again.

Sachi had been told that she would shortly be taken to the court building for her trial and had made an effort to look decent. Her plain dress she could not change, and it was dirty by now, but she had tidied her hair, braiding it in the back, and she had washed.

When Kobe walked in, she turned her head. “Superintendent? Is that you again? Are you here to take me?”

He was impressed and flattered that she had recognized his footfall—or had she smelled him? “No, Sachi,” he said, his voice gentle, “I’ve come to tell you that I’ve failed to postpone or cancel your trial. You must go. I’m very sorry. But I will be there, and I will speak for you, so you mustn’t be afraid.”

She made him a deep bow, her hands pressed together. “You are a good man,” she said softly. “I didn’t know how good men can be. Thank you. Whatever happens, you must not blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault.”

Kobe disagreed, but he had no time to argue. He muttered, “Thank you,” and left her cell.

His next visit was to the Sugawara house.

Saburo opened the gate. Kobe saw from his face that things were not good. He asked anyway, “Any change?”

Saburo shook his head. “Nothing. I blame myself.”

“Why? You did nothing. You were in jail.”

“It started because I had a fight with my girlfriend,” Saburo said bitterly. “A stupid fight with a stupid woman.”

Kobe was not interested. He said, “Nonsense,” and went into the house.

Tora was still sitting with his master. It looked as if he had not moved since Kobe had been there earlier. Now he got to his feet.

“How is he, Tora?” Kobe asked, bending over Akitada.

“Not good.”

“He looks much better to me. There’s color in his face. He was very white last time I was here.”

“It’s the fever, sir. The doctor said so. And he feels hot.”

“Oh!”

Kobe sat down and looked bleakly at Tora. “We must hope,” he said.

Tora nodded and sat back down. “Any news, sir?”

“Well, my men are combing the city. So far nothing. A man like Kanemoto has many friends who will hide him. I tried to change the judge’s mind, but he refused to be swayed. Someone has threatened him. If it were money, he would have given in. I told Sachi I would be at the trial and do my best for her, so I’ll have to leave in a little while.”

Tora said listlessly, “That was kind of you, sir. The master would have been grateful.”

To their surprise, Akitada took this moment to mutter something. Both bent over him eagerly.

“What is it, Akitada?” asked Kobe.

“Sir, the superintendent is here,” said Tora.

It was no good. Akitada grimaced and groaned. His hands roamed about on the quilt that covered him, but he did not open his eyes. “So dark!” he muttered. They waited, but that was all.

“He spoke. That’s surely a good sign,” said Kobe.

“In a fever, people talk. It’s like dreaming. Or nightmares,” said Tora.

They fell silent again, but the patient said nothing else. After a while, Kobe got to his feet. “I must go. I promised. Don’t get up.” he said.

Tora nodded dully.

*

Kobe returned to headquarters before going on to the court hall. This time he found some news. Lieutenant Harada reported that one of the units dispatched to search for Kanemoto had picked up a lead and was following it.

It was good news, but not good enough. Kobe nodded, then changed into his official uniform and ordered a contingent of ten policemen to accompany him. He did not expect an unruly crowd, but it was as well to be prepared. Besides, he intended to make an entrance.

The trial had already begun. Judge Hirokane was addressing the defendant, who knelt below his dais. When Kobe marched in, his expression stern and businesslike, people started whispering. Hirokane rapped his baton. “Silence!” he shouted.

This made things worse, and some people could be heard shouting questions, while others pressed forward to see what was happening.

Kobe ignored the uproar of the crowd. Followed by his grim-faced constables, he stopped in front of the dais. The guards took a few steps toward him, then stopped, confused.

“What’s this?” shouted the judge. “Who dares interrupt these proceedings?”

Kobe turned a little to face both Hirokane and the crowd. “I am Lord Kobe,” he announced, “Superintendent of the Metropolitan Police. I have come to stop this trial.”

The crowd responded with shouts and applause. Hirokane pounded his baton. Both police and court room guards spread out to control the crowd. A measure of silence ensued.

Kobe continued, “The defendant is a blind woman called Sachi. She is wrongly accused of a crime committed by another. The guilty person has been arrested. I am here to see to it that Sachi is released. I call on Judge Hirokane to give the order.” He turned to look at the judge.

Hirokane was flushed with fury, but he straightened his features quickly. “This is against all protocol,” he shouted. “I object.”

The crowd roared its protest. Hirokane pounded his baton, and police and guards attempted to control matters.

As soon as it grew quiet again, the judge said, “All of you here are my witnesses that I had nothing to do with this. Let the superintendent and his men take the prisoner. I cannot refuse a police order, no matter how wrong or unlawful it is. I shall, of course, report this outrage to the Ministry of Justice.” With this, he gathered his robe about him, got up, and stalked out.

Kobe let his eyes roam over the crowd. He had not liked the judge’s quick capitulation. Yes, there were several officials present from two or three ministries. Hirokane had arranged for witnesses who would be certain to testify against him.

Biting his lip, he gestured to his men to take the chains off the defendant. He went himself to help her to her feet and reassure her.

“I came,” he said when he saw that she was trembling with fear. No wonder. She was blind and could not have known what was happening all around her.

She lifted her head toward him and gave him a tremulous smile. “Yes,” he said simply.

“Do you have a home?”

She nodded.

“Two of my men will take you there and find someone to stay with you. Don’t be afraid. It’s all over.”

She inclined her head. “I’m not afraid now that you are here.” She stood there quietly, waiting. Kobe saw again how lovely she was, and how young, and got the strangest feeling that she had just told him that she loved him.

Embarrassed by this thought, he looked up. The officials who had witnessed his release of the prisoner were leaving the hall. There was nothing left for him to do except to await his punishment. He hoped at least that his lie about having arrested the murderer would not remain a lie much longer and that Sachi would remain free.

Selecting two of his men, he sent them with her, telling them to make sure she was safe and had a friend with her. The crowd still hung about, watching avidly. Sachi walked away, holding the sleeve of one of the policemen, and people pressed closer, congratulating her, calling her blessed, and reaching out to touch her for luck. No defendant had ever been saved like this from such a dreadful fate.