Island of Exiles (38 page)

But the gardens were only trimmed neatly near the main house. Farther off, dense shrubs and trees had been allowed to close off the view to the small building whose roof just showed above them.

A narrow path, lined with stones, led to the far corner of the property. Here a small cottage or summerhouse stood close to the woven bamboo fencing separating the grounds of the Golden Phoenix from a wooded shrine area beyond. The door to the cottage was open, and he saw that it contained only a single room, occupied at the moment by a small elderly woman on her hands and knees, scrubbing the grass mats and muttering to herself.

Tora had approached silently on the smooth stones of the path. She jumped a little when he cleared his throat.

“Good morning, auntie,” he greeted her. “Up so early after a late night?”

She took in his uniform, then stood painfully and bowed.

“Good morning, sir. We’re not open yet, but please to return later this evening. The Golden Phoenix offers the most elegant entertainments, the finest wine, and the most delicious foods.

Can I be of some service to the officer?” Apparently the polite phrases had been drummed into her head. As a potential customer of the Golden Phoenix, Tora must be encouraged to spend his money. He sat down on the veranda steps and smiled at her. “I was taking a stroll out near the harbor, but it’s a bit windy, so I came inside. Nice garden, this. Do you mind if I rest here for a while?” She bowed again. “Please make yourself at home, sir. Can I fetch you some wine?”

“No, don’t trouble. Go on with your work. I’ll just sit here.” The infernal bites started to itch again, and Tora scratched as he watched her.

She got back on her knees and started scrubbing again. Bloodstains? Yes, Tora thought the water had a pinkish tinge. “Some of your guests spilled their wine?” he called out to her.

“Not wine.” She made a face.

Pretending idle curiosity, Tora got up to take a closer look.

“Oh,” he said in a startled tone, “it’s blood. Somebody got hurt.

A drunken brawl?”

She sat back on her heels and looked around at the many small dark red splatters which dotted the mats in all directions.

Tora pictured the nude childlike body of Little Flower flung face down on the floor while that bastard Wada stood over her with a leather whip. The picture sickened him. Would she have been tied down? He glanced around the small room. Two smooth wooden pillars supported the wooden ceiling. The floor was also wood under the grass mats. Against the back wall stood a screen with badly painted willow trees and two lacquered trunks for bedding. There was no sign of any whips. Wada probably carried his own.

The elderly woman followed his eyes and shook her head.

“Just a customer and his companion.”

“What did they do?”

“Some men enjoy hurting the girls,” she said, her face stiff with disapproval.

“That sounds nasty.” Tora pretended shocked interest.

“Does it happen a lot?”

“No, thank heaven. The Willow Cottage costs extra.” She bent to her scrubbing again.

“It should. These men, what do they do to the women?” She paused in her scrubbing, but did not turn around. For a moment, Tora thought she would tell him, but she just shook her head and continued with her work.

“If the owner knows,” said Tora, “why does he allow such customers here?”

“Money.”

“Oh.” Tora sat back down. “You’d think the police would take an interest in such things.”

“Hah,” she snorted.

“What do you mean?”

She turned around and gave him a pitying look. “You being a stranger here, Officer, all I can say is, stay away from the police.”

Tora tried to get more from her, but she clamped her mouth shut and shook her head stubbornly.

“You must expect the customer back tonight,” he said.

“I hope not.” She got up and gathered her rags and bucket of water, muttering, “I doubt the poor thing’s in any shape for it.” And that was that. Tora thanked her for the rest and took his leave. He walked away glumly. Turtle’s suggestion had been to catch Wada here during one of his private nights of pleasure with Little Flower. It would have been perfect. The cottage was secluded, and even if they made any noise grabbing him, nobody would pay attention. Now, with Little Flower too injured to service the depraved lust of the police lieutenant, there was no chance to catch him alone, and Wada knew what had happened.

Tora turned at the next corner and passed the shrine.

Beyond its gateway the trees clustered thickly, hiding both the shrine building and the adjoining Golden Phoenix. He walked into the grounds, looked around, and then resumed his stroll about Mano. The main street took him all the way to the end of town without revealing much of interest. People were going about their daily business, glancing his way, but averting their faces as soon as he looked at them. No doubt recent events in Sadoshima had made them suspicious of soldiers.

Eventually, the houses thinned and straggled into open country. The road split, one arm leading north toward the mountains, and the other east. A dilapidated set of stables marked the crossroads. Tora put his head in the open door. A one-eyed groom who had several fingers missing-there seemed to be a lot of cripples in Mano-was tossing a small amount of stinking hay into a trough where three thin horses gobbled it eagerly.

“How much to rent a horse?” Tora shouted.

The man spat and mentioned an exorbitant amount.

“What? And where do you keep the magnificent beasts worth that much silver?”

He got an ugly squint from the remaining eye and a thumb pointing at the three nags.

“Them? You’re joking. I guess you don’t do much business at those rates.”

“Take it or leave it. Most people walk. Horse fodder costs as much as food.”

Tora told the fellow he would think about it and walked back to the hostel. Oyoshi greeted him so eagerly that he was afraid she would try to lock him into Little Flower’s room, but she only wanted to know if he wished to buy another dinner for that evening. Half her brood were gathered about her to hear his answer, their eyes glued on him with such fixed intensity that they might have been praying to the Buddha.

“Why not?” he said, smiling at the children and pulling out the money. Back in his room, he kicked the vermin-ridden bedding out the door and checked his money. Feeding a family the size of Oyoshi’s and taking care of the injuries of local whores was rapidly depleting the funds his mistress had carefully counted out. He decided against a visit to the bathhouse to get some relief for his itching body. If he did not catch Wada tonight, his chances would rapidly disappear.

Turtle made his appearance late in the day, about the time when appetizing smells wafted from Oyoshi’s cooking pots. Since Tora planned to visit every low dive in town and thought his fine new uniform too good for what might happen, he was changing into a plain dark robe when Turtle appeared in his door.

“Where have you been?” Tora demanded. “I thought you were going to be my servant.”

“Sorry, master. I was working for you all morning. Had to advance my own money to get some information.” Tora looked at him suspiciously. “What information?”

“Nobody has seen Master Wada anywhere.” Tora grabbed Turtle by the neck and shook him. “You crook,” he cried. “You think I’ll pay for that kind of news? You’re fired.” He pushed the small man away in disgust.

“No, no. Wait. There’s more. Today he sent a message to old Motoko.”

“Who’s old Motoko?”

“She keeps whores and makes assignations.”

“Ah.” Tora felt a thrill of satisfaction. “So the bastard is at it again. Do you know what he plans to do?” Turtle shook his head regretfully. “Motoko won’t talk to me.

We’re competition.”

“Well, I was going to look for him tonight anyway. I’ll stop by the Golden Phoenix again. Maybe this new girl is as big a fool as Little Flower.”

“I can find out for you,” wheedled Turtle.

“Can you? Good. Do it.”

Turtle’s face fell. “You mean now? Before I eat? And aren’t you going to pay me what you owe?”

“If you’re quick about it, there’ll be some food left. What do I owe you?”

Turtle mentioned a reasonable amount, and Tora paid.

Turtle looked at the coppers in his hand thoughtfully and said,

“You know, sometimes it costs more. For example, the Golden Phoenix is very expensive.”

Tora snapped, “I don’t expect you to go there as a paying customer. If you have any brains, you should be able to ask one of the waiters or servants if the Willow Cottage is still available.”

Before leaving his room, Tora gave his half armor, the helmet, and the long sword a longing glance, but he settled for his short sword, tucked out of sight under the loose jacket.

As before, he sat down to dinner with Oyoshi’s family. Turtle was not back, but his sister had laid a cushion for him. There was, however, another guest tonight. Little Flower, dressed more modestly and without paint on her face, knelt next to Oyoshi, ostensibly to help with the children.

Tora saw her with a slight panic, but approved of her appearance and told her so. She blushed and smiled shyly. He was struck by how much she resembled the young women with whom he usually flirted and he smiled at her.

“You look very handsome also,” she murmured, encouraged by his compliment. “Why are you not wearing your uniform tonight?”

Her question reminded Tora of his failed efforts with Wada and he became glum again. “I don’t know what I’ll get into tonight,” he said grimly. “Better not ruin the uniform. Some people have no respect for an honest military man.” Instantly she looked alarmed. “What are you going to do?”

Tora was touched by her concern, but thought it best to sound manly and determined. “I’m going to get that bastard Wada tonight. If I have to, I’ll fight him, his constables, and the local guard to find my master.”

“Oh, no! You’ll get yourself killed,” she moaned, turning quite pale.

“Well,” he snapped, hurt by her lack of confidence, “since you’re in no shape to set the bastard up for me, I’ll have to get him any way I can.”

Little Flower gave a small sob and ran from the room.

Oyoshi said reprovingly, “You shouldn’t tease her so. She’s fallen in love with you.”

Tora stared at her. “She hardly knows me. Why would she do a stupid thing like that?”

“Oh, you men!” Oyoshi refilled his bowl with large chunks of some excellent grilled fish and topped this off with stewed eggplant and mushrooms. “Little Flower has never met a man like you before.” She gave him an appraising look as she passed the food across. “She says you’re as handsome as Genji, as strong and brave as Fudo, and as loving and kind as the goddess Kannon herself.”

“Nonsense.” Tora blushed and turned his attention to his food and to joking with Oyoshi’s children.

Turtle returned, out of breath and with an anxious eye to the leftovers. He announced, “Nobody’s reserved the Golden Phoenix’s cottage tonight or tomorrow night.” He snatched the bowl his sister had filled from her hand and fell to.

“I hope you had the brains to ask if Wada ever comes as a regular customer,” Tora growled.

“Never,” mumbled Turtle through a mouthful of food. “The food’s no good and the charge too high. He eats and drinks in the Crane Grove or at Tomoe’s restaurant.”

“Hmm. We’ll start with them first. You can come along as soon as you’ve stuffed your belly.” He stretched and readjusted the sword under his sash.

Turtle’s eyes widened. He lowered his bowl, his face shocked. “You’re going to make trouble. Somebody’s going to get hurt. I think I’ll stay home.”

Tora gave him a look of disgust. “Nonsense. I may need you.

But you can wait outside for me. Just be there when I come out.” They left soon after. It was almost dark and the wind still blew sharp from the sea, signaling the end of summer. The streets were nearly empty. People had gone home to eat their rice, or to one of the wine shops whose lights winked invitingly up and down the main street of Mano.

When they did not find Wada at either of the establishments Turtle had mentioned, Tora began a systematic search of all the restaurants and low dives, looking grimmer by the minute.

He did not see Wada but had another kind of success. In one crowded wine shop, a burly guest rose when he heard Tora’s question and walked over. “Who wants to know where the lieutenant is?” he demanded in a belligerent tone.

Tora’s hopes lifted marginally. “The name’s Akaishi. Who are you?”

“Ikugoro. Sergeant of constables. So what’s your business with the lieutenant?”

“I have a few questions. Maybe you’ll do.” Tora gestured with his thumb toward a quiet corner.

The other man’s small eyes narrowed even further. “What makes you think I’ll talk to you?”

Tora looked around. He did not want to pay for wine for one of Wada’s thugs, but a brawl would get him nowhere and cause people to get hurt. The three men Ikugoro had been sitting with were watching. Inspiration came to his assistance. He dug his faked dispatch with its official seals from his sash and held it before Ikugoro’s face. The light was bad and he didn’t think the sergeant could read in any case. “I shouldn’t be showing you this,” he said in a low voice, “but since you’re his second in command, I’ll let you in on a little secret. As you see”-he pointed to the first line of writing-“I’m an inspector for the imperial police in the capital. It’s my duty to visit different provinces to check up on our appointees.” Looking around in case someone was listening, he quickly put his document away again.

Ikugoro’s face had fallen almost comically. “B-but what do you want with our lieutenant? Is anything wrong?”

“No, no.” Tora chuckled. “On the contrary. He’s applied for promotion and transfer to the capital and it looks like it’ll be approved. I’m to clear up a few details before they act on it. To tell you the truth, I’m a bit behind schedule already and need to grab the next boat back to the mainland.” Ikugoro’s eyes had grown round. Belatedly he came to attention and tried to salute.