Death of a Doll Maker (16 page)

Tora almost laughed. “How long has she been gone?” he asked.

“Since yesterday.”

Tora raised a brow. “You found her gone when you got home from work?”

“No. She was here then. We had dinner together. A very nice fish stew. I’m fond of
ayu
and managed to get some very fresh ones the day before. She cooked it with a little ginger, just the way I like it.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “This has never happened before. What shall I do?”

Maeda asked, “What happened after the fish dinner? Did you have an argument?”

“Oh, no. We never argue.”

“You’d better tell us what you both did.” Maeda looked disgusted.

“Well, we ate. Then she put away the dishes and said she had used all the ginger in the fish stew and if I wanted some in my morning gruel, she’d have to run to the market. I do like ginger in my gruel, and a bit of honey. I reminded her of the honey and gave her a piece of silver. I thought maybe she’d find some sweet bean paste and candied chestnuts.” He looked at them earnestly. “I have a taste for those.”

“So she left to go to the market?”

“We left together.”

Tora and Maeda exchanged a glance, and Maeda asked, “You went to the market together?”

“No. She went to the market. I went to the bath house. It was my regular night for a
moxa
treatment. I had my bath and a shave as usual, and then I had a massage and the
moxa
treatment.” He made a face and lifted his round shoulders. “It’s a bit painful, but so good for the intestines and it regulates the breath. I have a sensitive stomach.”

Maeda bit his lip. “Go on. Was she home when you returned?”

“I didn’t see her, but the honey and ginger were in the kitchen, so she must have come back.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t see her?” asked Tora.

“Well, after a
moxa
treatment I’m always quite exhausted. I unrolled some bedding and went to sleep here. I thought she was sleeping in the other room.”

Tora and Maeda exchanged another glance. Maeda said, “But you don’t know for a fact she spent the night here?”

Kuroki shook his head. “When I got up this morning, she was gone. The ginger and honey were still there, but no gruel.” He sounded aggrieved.

“And no message?”

He shook his head again. “She can’t write.”

Silence fell.

Tora said, “Did you look at her clothes? We need to know what she was wearing.”

“Why?”

Maeda said, “She could have had an accident.”

“Oh, I hope not. Surely she’d tell people who she was?”

Tora sighed. “Not if she was unconscious.”

Kuroki started weeping. “You think she’s dead.” He made it sound like an accusation.

Tora snapped, “Go check her clothes. She could have decided to walk out on you.”

The fat man staggered to his feet and waddled to a door. “She’d never …,” he mumbled on his way out.

“What do you think?” asked Maeda.

Tora snorted. “If you were Yoko, would you stay with him if you could find another man? He certainly wasn’t her idea of a good husband. She said as much to me.”

“Really? And what did you say?”

Kuroki came back in. “Only the gown she wore is gone, and her new quilt. The gown was blue with a small white pattern of shells. The quilt was light green with a pattern of cherry blossoms. She loved it, so I bought it for her.” He shook his head. “What could have happened?”

Maeda asked, “Could she have gone to visit a friend?”

“No. She had no friends. Or family either.” He started blubbering again and wrung his fat hands. “I told you, she was a devoted wife. She had me, and I had her. We were like the two halves of a clam.”

Tora looked at him. He was a singularly unattractive man. No wonder his wife invited men into her house.

Maeda got up. “Well, we’ll ask around, Mr. Kuroki. You do the same. If you can think of anything, let us know.”

Outside, he said to Tora, “She’s gone off with a lover. Taking her favorite quilt.”

Tora thought it likely, but something nagged at him.

Across the street, Mitsui’s son was loading his father’s handcart. Now that old Mitsui had been sentenced, the son was in a hurry to sell his property.

Tora said as much, and Maeda nodded. “May he choke on the money,” he growled.

They crossed the street to Mrs. Kimura’s house. They could hear the children’s voices and laughter. When Maeda shouted a greeting, the children came running, smiles on their faces. Kichiro’s eye had healed, but he still had an ugly scab on his cheekbone.

“You look like a man who’s been in a fight,” Tora said, grinning.

Kichiro laughed. “I was. It was nothing. They ran.”

The girl, suddenly shy, said, “Kichiro, that isn’t true. Saburo made them run.”

“Saburo sends his regrets, being busy with work,” Tora said. “He may stop by some evening.” Saburo wanted to visit them, but the children only knew the bearded man, and he could not wear his facial hair during the day without someone becoming suspicious.

Mrs. Kimura welcomed them and offered fruit juice on her veranda. The garden was filled with bird song coming from the many cages hanging from trees.

“The children are such a blessing to me,” she said, watching them fondly as they tended to the birds. “I’m still afraid to let them go out, but they want to sell the birds in the market.”

Maeda said, “It should be safe enough, provided they only go there and come straight back, and never after dark. We stopped by on another matter. Mrs. Kuroki, your neighbor across the street, seems to have disappeared and her husband is very worried. Would you happen to know anything about her activities yesterday?”

Mrs. Kimura’s eyes widened. “Yoko? Disappeared? So she finally had enough.” She giggled, then covered her mouth. “Shame on me. The poor man.” But she spoiled it with another giggle. “I’m sorry. He’s been so silly about her, and she hates that so much. Some people should never get married.” She nodded toward the Mitsui house. “There’s proof for you. I hear Mitsui confessed to killing Mei?”

“He did. That case is closed. Now we’re looking for Yoko. You don’t think Kuroki killed her?”

She laughed. “Oh, no. He doesn’t have the strength for anything as strenuous as murder. I expect she’s gone off with someone.”

“Who?”

“A man. She used to have them coming around pretending to make deliveries. They went inside, stayed a while and came back out whistling.” She smiled.

“Can you describe them?” Tora asked.

They got descriptions of several young men, younger than either Tora or Maeda. They had other features in common. They were handsome and well-built. They wore short pants and colorful shirts and sandals on their feet. “Ordinary market porters,” she said, “but young and good-looking. Yoko had good taste. I used to wish them joy. Yoko and those young men were positively bubbling with hunger for each other.” She laughed.

Maeda was shocked. “How do you get such ideas? Surely it’s not proper to spy on a neighbor having an affair with a market boy.”

Tora chortled. She said, “Maeda, you have a lot to learn about women, especially old, lonely ones. Those children are a blessing for me. You’re right. Loneliness makes people nosy.”

“And where would the police be without nosy people,” Tora said.

Maeda grinned sheepishly. “I’m turning into a prude. The other day I thought Tora was Yoko’s latest victim.”

Tora blushed. “Prey maybe, but not victim. Though she’s a pretty woman and doesn’t deserve a husband like that. Do we look for one of her lovers now?”

Maeda frowned. “I don’t know. She has a right to leave her husband. Besides, I don’t want to tell the poor besotted bastard where we found her. Assuming we do.”

And that was the end of that. On the way back, they stopped to speak to Hiroshi, who glared at them as he flung a last bundle into his handcart. “What now?” he growled.

“Nothing to do with you or your father,” said Maeda. “I just wondered if you were here yesterday.”

“What if I was?”

“Well, did you happen to see the woman across the street?”

“No.”

“Or any visitors to her house?”

“No. Are you after that poor bitch now? What’s she supposed to have done, killed her husband?”

Maeda clenched his hands. Tora said quickly, “Nothing of the sort. What are you up to?”

Hiroshi transferred his glare to him. “None of your business, but if you must know, I’m selling some stuff. My father has no need for it now, and my wife and children are hungry.”

They walked away, shaking their heads.

14

SPRING RAIN

“C
aptin Okatta, governor zir.” Koji stood aside to let the police chief enter.

Akitada was in the tribunal office, and the captain stood just inside the door. He was a slender man with a narrow face and pinched lips and wore his bright red uniform with the black feathered cap. At the moment he looked irritated. Akitada gave Mori a nod, the secretary did the same with the two scribes. They got up and walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Akitada said coldly, “So you finally show up. What kept you from reporting?”

Okata saluted and said in a clipped voice, “Press of business, sir.”

“You will address me as ‘Your Excellency.’ I’m surprised nobody explained simple protocol to you.”

Okata flushed. “His Excellency Governor Tachibana was the easy-going type. He didn’t stand on ceremony, provided a man did his job well.” He paused, then added, “Your Excellency.”

He was defiant. Akitada saw that the interview would be extremely unpleasant. Suddenly angered, he decided to make short work of it.

“I’m glad you speak of a man doing his job well, Okata,” he said. “I have ordered you to report because I have reason to find fault with the way you are handling it.”

Okata raised his chin. “I’m aware of the posters you put up around town. No doubt every man, woman, and child who’s ever been in trouble with the law filed a complaint.”

So the man was not stupid. His bad performance was due to other reasons. Laziness? Or the conviction he was too good for the job? It did not matter.

Akitada pulled out a sheaf of papers. “Whatever your explanations may be for them, I have here fifty-one separate charges against you or your men. That is an unreasonable number even if they were all from people you’ve arrested. One of my men had the chance to observe your handling of a murder case.” He held up the thick sheaf of papers. “In some of the other cases you refused to investigate charges brought by citizens, you ordered your men to rough up witnesses, you confiscated goods for no good reason, you took two families’ homes away from them and bestowed them on friends of yours, you dismissed policemen because they opposed your orders to use cruel beatings in order to get confessions, and the list goes on. This will not do, Okata.” He paused. “You are dismissed.”

Okata blinked. “Dismissed?” he asked uncertainly. “You mean I can go?”

“No!” Akitada slammed his fist on his desk, making the ink stone and water flask jump and a stack of papers topple. “No,” he repeated more calmly. “I mean you are dismissed from your position as captain of the Hakata police force and as chief of police. My secretary has your final pay requisition slip. You need not return to your station. If you have property belonging to police headquarters, you will return it within a week. Now you may leave.”

Okata’s jaw sagged. He turned red and then purple and choked. Akitada was afraid he was having some sort of fit and would fall down dead before his eyes. But the man caught his breath and snarled, “You don’t have the power to dismiss me. I could have you arrested. We’ll see what Lord Fujiwara at Dazaifu has to say about this.” He flung about and rushed out, shoving Mori, who was waiting with his pay slip, violently aside.

Mori hit the wall with a thud and slipped down. Akitada jumped up to help him, but the old man staggered to his feet on his own. “I can’t say I like that man,” he commented, coming back into the office.

“Nor do I.” Mori’s mild comment had managed to defuse Akitada’s own fury. “Please draw up a formal appointment for Sergeant Maeda to replace Captain Okata. He will be the new police chief. Make the appointment and the new rank of lieutenant probationary. Tora has nothing but praise for Maeda, and there are no complaints filed against him. I’d like to see how he handles the job before we make it permanent.”

Mori smiled. “I know Sergeant Maeda and his family,” he said. “They’re good people. Maeda didn’t attend the university, but he excelled as a pupil in the local school. His people couldn’t afford to send him to the capital. This has hurt his chances.”

“Well, I could wish he had a better education, but it’s certainly preferable to have an honest, capable, and diligent chief of police than a learned one.”

*

The next day the weather turned bad. The world was cast into a gray twilight as the rain sheeted down. An air of hopelessness hung over the tribunal compound where the forecourt remained empty except for a large number of puddles. Everyone kept indoors.

Toward noon, a messenger from Maeda arrived with news. Mitsui had been tried and found guilty of murdering his wife. He was condemned to hard labor in the silver mines of Tsushima. It was a harsh sentence for an old man because he would not survive long. Still, since he had no chance of being pardoned, a quick death was thought to be preferable to years of suffering.

Tora looked uncharacteristically glum when he heard the news.

Akitada asked, “Why are you upset? It was a very violent crime. Surely you don’t think a mere prison sentence would have been enough?”

Tora shook his head. “I don’t know what I think, sir. Mitsui isn’t a likeable man. Nobody in that family deserves pity or respect. But I have an odd feeling we don’t know everything in this case. There’s something more to find out. And now the woman across the street from the Mitsuis just walked away from her marriage and disappeared. I talked to her a few days ago, and she didn’t strike me as the sort who would do such a thing.”

Akitada frowned. “Well, the Mitsui case is closed. If it makes you feel any better, go and ask a few questions about this missing woman.”