Текст книги "Rashomon Gate "

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

Akitada stammered, "You know?"

Sesshin nodded. "I have had the boy watched since you came to warn me. My men reported that you took Sadamu away. They lost you briefly, but found your residence and verified that the boy was there." He added with a smile, "I hope he is not making a nuisance of himself?"

Akitada tried to control his amazement. "Not at all, but I wish we had known. We took him away secretly because Sadamu complained of two suspicious characters outside his dormitory. The one I saw was a vicious-looking brute, and Tora said the other fellow was smaller but the same type. We took them for Sakanoue's thugs."

Sesshin chuckled. "They have both been in my service for many years and, for all their looks, are quite gentle fellows. There was also a third man at the lecture hall to watch the boy during his classes. I should have told you."

Akitada felt foolish. "You could not have known that I would go to such lengths to meddle in your family affairs," he said contritely.

Sesshin sighed. "You did because I was negligent. I am grateful to you, you know."

Akitada hesitated, then said, "There are some new facts concerning your brother's death."

The bishop's face saddened again. "Not here and now," he said. "Come to me later." He bowed lightly and walked down the steps and across the courtyard.

Akitada returned to the students, realizing that he had changed his mind about resigning. Until new appointments were made, he would remain and cope with Hirata's pupils and his own. It would make up, in a small way, for his neglect of his old friend and mentor.

The students were subdued and grateful for his instruction. The concentration on the work took Akitada's mind off his grief until the bell sounded for their noon rice, and he was reminded to go home to check on his family, which was increased now by Tamako, her little maid and old Saburo, Hirata's servant.

Genba opened the gate to him. He was laughing at something and had a mouth full of food. His face fell and he swallowed when he saw Akitada, who caught a glimpse of rice cake in Genba's hand as it disappeared behind his back. Akitada gave him a nod and walked into the courtyard.

Tora and Hitomaro were sitting in the shade of the paulownia tree. When they saw him, they jumped to their feet. Both were dripping with sweat, and two long bamboo staves lay nearby. They had been practicing stick-fighting. Apparently Hitomaro had consented after all.

So! Life went on as usual for his staff. Akitada's resentment was mixed with a twinge of envy. He glowered, feeling an outsider in his own home, and it occurred to him that the services of Tora's new friends could now be dispensed with. He opened his mouth to tell them, when he saw Genba surreptitiously swallowing the rest of his cake and licking his fingers. He remembered then their desperate need and how Genba had offered to work for food, and he decided they could stay on for a few days and make themselves useful in his newly enlarged household. Though how he was to pay for the added expenses, he had no idea.

Feeling lonely and dejected, he walked past them towards the house.

"Sir," cried Tora.

Akitada turned. Tora trotted up, brandishing a large, brightly painted umbrella.

"What do you want?" Akitada asked impatiently. "I am busy."

Tora's face fell. He stood, awkwardly opening and closing the umbrella. "I'm sorry. It's just . . . I thought I had better give you the message."

"Put that silly thing down! What message?"

Tora handed him the opened umbrella with a bow. "For you, sir."

Akitada kept his hands in his sleeves. "Don't be ridiculous! I could not use such a flamboyant piece of trumpery. Give it to your girl!" He turned away.

"In that case," said Tora, his voice stiff with hurt, "I think Mr. Hishiya was wise to leave before you got back. He was very proud of this umbrella. He stayed up all night and painted the pictures himself. Look! You can see every petal on the peonies and every feather in the phoenix's tail."

Akitada stopped and turned. "Hishiya? Oh, the dead girl's father! Let me see that again!" This time he took the umbrella, wincing a little as the rough handle scraped his barely healing palms, and studied the design and workmanship. "You are right. It is very fine. You will take Mr. Hishiya a gift in return. Seimei will have it ready in an hour. What did Mr. Hishiya say?"

"The police told him that you found Omaki's killer, and he wanted to thank you in person," Tora said accusingly. "But when he heard about the fire and the professor's death, he did not want to take up your time."

Akitada was ashamed. "He is a man of great courtesy," he said. "I am very sorry for my remarks about this umbrella." Akitada turned it dubiously in his hands. "It is indeed very . . . detailed. But it strikes me that it was you, Tora, who did all the hard work on the case. In fact, it was your case, not mine. And so the umbrella must rightfully be yours also." He returned it to Tora with a slight bow.

"Well . . ." Tora took the umbrella. "It is true that you did very little. As you say, I found all the clues." A slow smile spread over his face. "Right! This is just the thing for Michiko. I've been wracking my brains for something to give her for a present."

Akitada said, "Are you still seeing that little entertainer? Better watch your step. She may be no better than poor Hishiya's wife."

"Oh, Michiko is nothing like that one. And Hishiya got rid of his wife. Divorced her the day I told him I'd seen a customer waiting at his house." Tora added with a sly wink, "Imagine, the customer turned out to be one of Mrs. Hishiya's country cousins, and Mr. Hishiya objected to the generous way his wife was entertaining her relative!"

"You don't say!" Akitada exclaimed with a straight face. "All the more reason for you to accept the umbrella then. Mr. Hishiya is deeply in your debt."

The exchange with Tora had lifted Akitada's spirits a little. He felt able to deal with the many problems awaiting him. After giving instructions to Seimei about wrapping up a length of silk for Mr. Hishiya, he went to see his mother.

Lady Sugawara greeted him with outstretched arms. "My dear Akitada," she cried, "how are you feeling? And how are your hands?"

Akitada looked at her, surprised. "I am fine. I came to ask about Tamako, Mother."

His mother gave him a searching look. "She is calm. Seimei gave her some more of his tea to make her sleep last night and she looked much better this morning. I should have done the same with you. Come, sit down! You must have something to eat." Ignoring Akitada's protests, she clapped for Kumoi and told her to bring hot tea and some rice and vegetables.

Akitada sampled the food reluctantly, still awkward with the chopsticks, but after the first bite it tasted surprisingly good. His mother waited until he had finished before saying, "She plans to cut her hair and become a nun, you know."

Akitada stared, aghast, and stumbled to his feet. "Where is she?"

Lady Sugawara studied her fingernails. "She has your younger sister's room."

Akitada found Tamako alone, seated on the small veranda outside. She was dressed in the white robes of mourning, her hair very dark against the silk and her pale skin. He had expected dejection, violent tears, anger– he knew not what– but he found instead utter calm and composure.

"Akitada!" she said in her light voice, smiling a little. "I am so glad you came. Please sit down for a minute. I have to thank you for so many things. It was very kind of you to take care of the funeral and offer me shelter."

He remained standing. "My mother tells me you wish to renounce the world." His voice was harsh with emotion. "Is this true?"

She looked up at him calmly. "Yes, of course. It is the wisest thing to do under the circumstances. One of my father's cousins is a nun in Nara. I shall go to her."

"You are too young and beautiful to shut yourself away like that," Akitada cried angrily. "I won't permit it!" He corrected himself. "I mean, your father would not have approved."

"I think he would understand."

"No. You should marry. You could be my wife. That is what he wished."

She turned away then. Her slender hands twisted in her lap. "It is impossible."

"Why?" he cried, "Why can't you marry me, Tamako?"

She did not answer and kept her face turned from him. All the fears about his own inadequacy returned, and they were worse than before. How much she must detest him, if she could not even now accept the refuge he offered her from destitution and distress! "It is not impossible," he shouted. "It is you who are impossible!" With an incoherent cry, he turned and stormed away.

All the way to the university, he searched again for a rational explanation of Tamako's rejection of his offer. And as before, he found no answer other than that she must dislike him or his family. He set the students to reading a chapter in the Book of Documents and went to Hirata's room to sort through his belongings, working with feverish concentration to banish his despair.

Setting aside such personal things as his daughter might wish to have, he went on to sifting through Hirata's papers. There was much, the work of a lifetime. Not only had Hirata kept copious notes on legal matters, but he had preserved many of his students' papers. Akitada even came across one of his own efforts. Throughout the years of his teaching, Hirata had taken enormous and loving pains with his students. Often he had written appreciative comments on their papers. It seemed wrong to discard all that, but there was no point in saving any of them.

He turned to the books next, and it was here that he found the diary. It spanned the past year and contained small memos Hirata had written to himself about things he planned to do that day. Akitada turned to the final entry, made the last time Akitada had seen Hirata, the day he had decided to go with Nishioka instead of speaking to his old friend.

Hirata had written, "I think A. is still angry with me over the matter of the examination. Poor Tamako. My conscience will give me no peace until I make one more effort to set things right. An announcement that a mistake has been made and that the poor dead boy should have won would at least please his family."

Akitada laid the journal down with a shaking hand. It confirmed his dreadful suspicion. He wondered if Hirata had wanted to consult him before taking a dangerous step. What if he had, in fact, started to "set things right"?

Tucking the journal into his sleeve, Akitada went to dismiss the students early. Then he walked to the ruins of the Hirata house.

There was nothing left but charred timbers. A single fireman was raking apart the debris of the main house. Akitada picked his way to where Hirata's study had been.

"What are you looking for, sir?" the fireman asked, walking up.

"I was trying to see where the fire started."

The man pointed. "Right there. Started outside. On the veranda."

Akitada looked at a pile of ashes, then at the man. He had an intelligent face and bright, curious eyes. "How do you know that?" he asked.

"Oh, I've seen plenty of fires. You get to where you can tell. It was hottest on the veranda. See, there's nothing left of it. The room burned up later, and the supports are still there. Fire burns up, not down."

"But how could a fire start outside?"

"Oh, any number of ways. Careless maid drops a brazier full of coals or spills a lantern full of oil and is too scared to tell. This one must've been oil. You can still smell it a bit. I expect it dripped down between the boards."

Akitada could not smell anything but the acrid odor of burnt wood that hung over the whole compound, but he knew the man was right. He also knew that the oil had not been spilled accidentally.

He asked the fireman's name and walked to police headquarters.

Kobe was in and still in a friendly mood. "Come in, come in!" he cried. "I have good news." He took a closer look at Akitada's drawn face and said, "You look terrible. Have you been ill?"

"No. Are you aware that Professor Hirata died in a fire in his home five nights ago?"

Kobe's face lengthened. "Yes. I saw the report. Forgive me for not expressing my sympathy. You were close, weren't you?"

"Yes. I came to tell you that the fire was arson. The professor was murdered by the same man who killed Oe."

Kobe sighed. "Now, now," he said soothingly. "I can see that you've been under a lot of strain and are upset about this. But I read the report, you know, and there's nothing in it about arson. And Oe's killer wasn't anywhere near Hirata's place that night."

Akitada raised a distracted hand to his face and sat down. So much had been happening that he found it hard to concentrate. He felt the outline of Hirata's diary through his gown. "It is a long and complicated story," he said, pulling the diary from his sleeve and sliding it across the desk towards Kobe. "Turn to the last page and read the entry."

Kobe read and then leafed through the journal. "This is Hirata's?"

"Yes. I found it when I was clearing out his papers at the university. He and I had been investigating a report of cheating during the spring examinations, but I had thought that he had decided to leave the matter alone."

"Does this have anything to do with Ishikawa and Oe?" Kobe asked.

"Yes, indirectly. A very mediocre student was given first place, because Ishikawa, who is quite brilliant, wrote his essay, and Oe, one of the proctors, passed it to the candidate during the examination. Oe was subsequently paid, but Ishikawa got very little for his troubles. He sought to rectify the situation by blackmailing Oe. By accident the note was passed to Hirata instead."

Akitada had Kobe's full attention now. "Go on!"

"Hirata asked my help in discovering the blackmailer and his target. We were on the point of confronting Ishikawa and Oe when the murder happened. I have tried to reconstruct the sequence of events. No doubt Ishikawa continued to pressure Oe who, in turn, asked the candidate for more money to pay Ishikawa."

Kobe frowned. "He asked whom for more money?"

When Akitada told him, he protested, "His name has not come up once in this investigation."

"Because everybody looked for the suspect among Oe's colleagues. The killer had a better reason to wish Oe dead than anyone, and his personality fits the circumstances of the crime perfectly. Nishioka, who makes a study of such things, would agree. As for opportunity, he was at the contest and, if I am not mistaken, Oe recited a poem which contained a direct threat to this man. I think he left the park and followed Oe to the Temple of Confucius, perhaps to reason with him. When he saw Ishikawa come out alone, he went in and discovered a helpless Oe tied to the statue of the sage. The temptation to kill him was too great to resist."

Kobe pondered this. After a while he shook his head. "It's pure assumption. I have to have proof to make an arrest. By the way, that blackmail note Hirata got, where is it?"

"Probably lost in the fire."

Kobe threw up his hands.

"Ishikawa can confirm the examination fraud– if he is still alive. That reminds me." Akitada passed a hand over his face to wipe away perspiration. It came away streaked with soot from the Hirata ruin. "I asked at the Ninna temple. Ishikawa is not there."

"That was my good news! He's alive and we've got him. He was brought in yesterday from the Onjo temple southeast of the city. So far he hasn't said much, but believe me, we've got our killer. Do you want to talk to him?"

Akitada thought of the bamboo whips which were an inevitable concomitant of police interrogations and shuddered. But he nodded.

Kobe got up. "Come on then!"

They walked across the courtyard to the jail building. Kobe gave orders and invited Akitada to sit on the wooden floor of the staff room. A clerk took his place behind a desk, rubbed some ink and shuffled papers. Then the prisoner was brought in.

Two guards dragged his unwilling body between them. Akitada did not recognize the handsome and haughty graduate student in the miserable creature who was pushed down to his knees before them. Ishikawa wore a stained and torn monk's robe. His shaven head bore several bloody gashes, as did his bare feet and chained wrists, and his face was swollen and bruised almost past recognition. He cowered before them, shivering.

"Fought like a tiger," muttered Kobe in explanation to Akitada. Then he shouted to the prisoner, "Sit up!"

When Ishikawa did not react immediately, one of the guards kicked him in the ribs and shouted, "Pay attention, dogmeat!"

The student cried out and struggled upright. His right eye was swollen shut, and his nose had bled and stained the front of his robe. But his good eye recognized Akitada. He straightened his shoulders a little and bowed.

"Well, are you ready to talk now?" demanded Kobe in a threatening voice.

"Sir," muttered the prisoner, his good eye fixed on Akitada, "please tell them who I am and that I have done nothing."

"What are you doing in monk's garb?" asked Akitada.

"I was hiding because I was afraid."

"Hah!" cried Kobe. "Then you admit you killed the professor!"

"No! I did not kill him." Ishikawa's voice rose. "I swear I did not do it. I only tied him up. Why would I kill him? He paid me to read his papers, and he would have recommended me for a good position once I passed the examination." He looked at Akitada again. "Please tell him, sir!"

Akitada leaned forward, looking at the student intently. "Do you admit that you tied Oe to the statue of the sage?"

"Oh, yes." Ishikawa's lips twitched at the memory. "He was so drunk he kept falling down, so I arranged for some appropriate support."

"That was surprisingly kind of you," said Akitada, raising his brows, "when you had just had a violent altercation with him. You remember meeting him behind the pavilion at the contest? What was that all about?"

Ishikawa opened his eyes wide. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Come, come! I saw you with my own eyes. You assaulted Oe."

A sullen expression settled on Ishikawa's bloodied face. "It was nothing! He was drunk and babbled nonsense."

Kobe suddenly leaned forward and shouted, "You lie, you piece of dung! He threatened you and you struck him."

Immediately the guard belabored Ishikawa's head and shoulders with the butt of his whip. Ishikawa fell forward screaming.

Akitada winced, and Kobe gestured to the constable to stop. The man withdrew a little, but Ishikawa remained prone.

Giving Kobe a hard look, Akitada said to the student, "Sit up and answer the questions truthfully and you won't be beaten. This is a murder case. An intelligent fellow like you should be able to grasp that cooperation is a good idea."

Ishikawa struggled up. "All right," he muttered. "Can I have something to drink?"

When Akitada turned to ask for water, Ishikawa shot him a hopeful glance. He drank greedily from the wooden ladle a guard had dipped into a bucket of water. Wiping his mouth, he said, "The bastard had cheated me and I told him so. It was like this: Oe got this idea to make some money on the side by letting this wealthy fellow place first in the examination. Knowing that I didn't even have enough for a hot meal and was cleaning the kitchens and dormitories for a few coppers a day, he asked me to withdraw my name as candidate but write the paper on the examination topic and pass it to him. He offered me a large sum of gold and promised me first place and a fine position the following year. Well, my placing first was a foregone conclusion and I didn't want to hang around another year, so I refused. That's when the bastard started threatening. He'd see to it that I didn't get first place, that there was another candidate equally qualified, and that he would not recommend me even if I did place first. Well, I cooperated, but he never paid me the promised gold. Sure, he let me read his students' papers for a few coppers and kept telling me he'd not been paid himself. But I found out differently. He was building a villa for his retirement on the money that should've been mine and he was selling his position." He spat, his one good eye flashing with anger.

Akitada wished he could find some satisfaction in having his theories confirmed, but Hirata's death and the sordidness of the whole affair overwhelmed him. Ishikawa, on the other hand, seemed to have regained his old cockiness.

He met Akitada's eyes and grinned lopsidedly. "Since you had to put your nose into it, Professor, at the poetry match I was reminding Oe of what I was owed, that's all."

Anger caused Akitada to speak coldly. "Hardly all. You made a pretty good thing out of betting on Oe's candidate and won five hundred pieces of silver, I hear. How did Oe feel about that?"

Kobe grunted with surprise, and Ishikawa stared in shock at Akitada. "Whose side are you on?" he asked, glowering.

"Explain your involvement in the illegal gambling operation!" growled Kobe. "Or I'll have you beaten again."

Ishikawa cursed both of them. He shouted, "You're all alike! You'll pin the murder on a poor student who can't help himself and protect the real killer because he's one of the 'good' people! Yes, I had a fight with Oe. He cheated me! Yes, I pushed the fat bastard and, yes, I tied his sorry figure to the mealy-mouthed saint of all you hypocritical bastards! But I did not kill him! A lot of people hated Oe, but you pick on me because I don't have anybody to speak up for me. Damn Oe! Damn all of you for that matter!" He broke off with a sob and collapsed.

The guard raised his whip and looked at Kobe for orders.

"No!" Turning to Ishikawa, Akitada said, "I believe you, but I shall see to it that you are expelled from the university. Your character is despicable."

The student spat. "I shall not forget your kindness, sir," he said with a sneer.

Kobe sighed. "We're not getting anywhere." He nodded to the guards. "Take him away and clean him up. Then lock him in one of the cells and watch him!"

When they walked back, Akitada asked Kobe, "Surely you don't still believe him guilty?"

"It does not matter what I believe," said Kobe. "There is no proof for your theory, and plenty of proof of Ishikawa's guilt."

Akitada felt very tired. He muttered, "You cannot beat a confession out of an innocent man. He might confess simply because he cannot bear the pain any longer and would rather die. I would not want that on my conscience."

"Curse you and your damned conscience!" exploded Kobe. "You tell me how to get new evidence then! You don't want it to be Ishikawa, but you can't give me any proof to make another arrest! I wish you would stay out of my business from now on!"

Some of the constables in the courtyard stopped to stare at them.

Akitada thought of the dead Hirata. "Forgive me, Captain, if I have been a nuisance," he said quite humbly. "There is only one thing I must ask for. Hirata's death weighs on my mind. I would be deeply grateful if you could talk to the firemen who put out the blaze that killed him. One of them told me it started on the veranda. If Hirata was asleep in his study, he could not have started the fire himself and he never troubles his servant after dark. I would not ask this, if I did not feel it was important to the case."

Kobe was so startled by Akitada's uncharacteristic humility that he looked hard at him for a moment. Then he relented. "Very well, I'll look into it.