The Fires of the Gods (23 page)

‘Yes. But it’s hardly something I can meddle in.’

Kobe sighed. ‘I have to meddle in it, and I’m no more fit to face the consequences than you.’

‘I know. But you must inform Chancellor Yorimichi, at any rate. Can you talk about your investigation of the Kiyowara murder?’

‘Yes.’ Kobe speared some melon with a chopstick and chewed. ‘As I said, the suspicion falls on the son. He was overheard quarreling with his father. When we asked him about that, he was evasive and looked frightened. So far his mother has protected him, and word has come down from the chancellor’s office to handle the family gently.’ Kobe grunted his disgust.

‘What about the weapon?’

‘No sign of it, but we could not very well search the mother’s pavilion. Whatever it was, it crushed the skull in several places. Most of the damage was to the front of the head. You would think Kiyowara would have defended himself against the attack, but perhaps the first blow was unexpected and struck with great strength. A man, even a young man, could deliver such blows in anger. And he kept striking after his father was down.’

Akitada tried to imagine Katsumi in a violent rage and failed.

Kobe asked, ‘What will
you
do about the case?’

‘I cannot return to the residence, but mean to talk to the major-domo again. He lives outside. I’ll let you know if there is any new information.’

Kobe pushed his bowl aside. It was still half full. ‘Well, I’d better go and arrest the son.’

Akitada said quickly, ‘Don’t! There might be another explanation. Let me ask a few more questions.’

‘Very well, but it cannot wait much longer. I’ll be following up the business of the arsonists until I hear from you.’

Akitada reached across his desk and opened a small box,
taking from it Tora’s amulet. ‘Tora found this in the street after he collided with one of the young rascals. I believe it may belong to the youth Tojiro.’ He waited until Kobe had opened the pouch and looked at the amulet inside. ‘I want to know more about that boy who looks like Katsumi. This is a religious object. I’ll start with Abbot Shokan, I think. He has lost an acolyte and has been suppressing information.’

Kobe reinserted the amulet and handed it back to Akitada. He frowned. ‘Do you think this Tojiro is related to the Kiyowaras or that he is the abbot’s missing lover? You can’t have it both ways.’

Yes, that was the problem. Back in the pit, with Demon perching on his shoulder, it had seemed entirely feasible. Akitada said evasively, ‘I wish I knew. Perhaps it’s a family keepsake. And Tojiro keeps appearing in both cases.’

Kobe gestured towards the amulet. ‘You have only that amulet and a vague resemblance to young Kiyowara. It seems farfetched.’

‘Yes. I had not meant to tell you this much.’

Kobe chuckled and got up. ‘Well, let me know what happens. It’s time I went to see what our prisoners have to say for themselves.’

THE SANDALWOOD TREE

I
t rained off and on throughout the day, but Akitada enjoyed the excursion. He was finally back on his own horse. The animal was his single weakness for luxury, and he had steadfastly turned down astonishing offers for it from wealthy and powerful men.

Besides, the rain had cleansed the air over the capital, which had been heavy with the stench of smoke and wet rubble for weeks. In the country, the farmers tended their fields, opening sluices to control the abundance of water that had gathered in ditches and holding ponds. The crops looked green and healthy.

Later, in the forest, dripping branches released their moisture in a sibilant cadence, and small birds groomed themselves among the wet branches.

Abbot Shokan received Akitada eagerly. ‘You’ve found him,’ he cried. ‘I knew it. If anyone could, it would be you. Come, come. Sit and tell me. Did you bring him back with you? But no, they would have told me. When will he return?’

Akitada sat, waiting out the effusion. Perhaps his lighter mood had shown in his face. He rearranged his expression. ‘I am very sorry to disappoint Your Reverence, but if I have found your acolyte, I have misplaced him again.’

Shokan’s face fell. ‘What can you mean?’

‘I believe I found him briefly, but he escaped. At the moment, the police are looking for him. He seems to be involved in setting all those fires that have plagued the city for so long.’

Shokan’s lower lip trembled. ‘That cannot be,’ he muttered. ‘He would never… It would be a betrayal of all his principles…’ His voice trailed off, and he shot Akitada a frightened glance.

‘I think Your Reverence knows that the crown prince has enemies at court and in the nation.’

Shokan tried to look blank. ‘What? I cannot imagine what you mean. You must do what you can to rescue the boy if he is arrested.’

‘I am afraid I cannot do that, Reverence. But Superintendent Kobe is a fair man. He will not hold him, if the youngster is innocent.’

Shokan sat for several long moments, staring at Akitada. ‘Then he’s lost,’ he said heavily after a while and bowed his head. ‘He showed such promise. They say the sandalwood tree is fragrant in its first leaves. That is the way he came to me, a young sandalwood tree. Oh, the corruption of this world must be terrible if it swallows up even the innocent children.’

Akitada was uncomfortable in the presence of such grief coming from an old, fat man who had led a life of ease. He thought it hypocritical, though clearly the emotion was real. Perhaps this was what happened to those living ‘above the clouds’. They no longer had any connection with the poor, the laborers, the market women, the prostitutes, and all the innumerable peddlers, traders, and entertainers that scratched out a living from each other and from those just slightly better off than they.

It was even doubtful that this imperial prince-turned-cleric knew anything of Akitada’s world.

His voice harsher, he said, ‘Surely a man of Your Reverence’s
status in the political and spiritual spheres can intercede and change even a condemned man’s fate. In fact, you never needed me for that.’ He reached in his sleeve and brought out the amulet. Placing it before the abbot, he asked, ‘Have you ever seen this?’

The abbot snatched up the little pouch and removed the amulet with shaking fingers. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes. It’s Kansei’s. I gave it to him.’

‘My retainer tangled with one of the arsonists as they were running from the fire. He dropped it.’

The abbot clutched the amulet to his chest. ‘The man could have stolen it.’

Akitada lost his patience. ‘The boy is now known as Tojiro. I think it is time, Reverence, that you told me the truth about his background.’

Abbot Shokan seemed to shrink into himself. ‘I have not lied to you,’ he said softly. ‘I wanted only the best for a child given into my care. And you are wrong about what I can do for him. My hands are tied by my vows. I cannot interfere in legal matters.’

Akitada did not believe this for a moment, but he softened his tone. ‘Without knowing his story, I cannot go to Superintendent Kobe to speak on his behalf.’

Shokan gave him a hopeless look. ‘Then he has already been arrested.’ For a moment it looked as if he would cry like a child.

Akitada did not set him straight.

Shokan said dully, ‘A woman who claimed to be his mother brought him here. That is the truth. He was five and already beautiful. She – her name was Ako – wanted him to receive an education and offered to pay a small sum every year for his upkeep. She did not keep her word, but in time I saw his lively intelligence and began to take a personal interest in him. He seemed to like his life here, and when he was twelve, we decided that he should become an acolyte. His mother agreed readily.’ Shokan made a face. ‘A greedy woman. She wanted money. That such a child should have been born to her!’ Shokan sighed heavily and wiped his eyes. ‘I paid what she asked. He grew more beautiful every year, but he took little interest in the austerities of our lives, and he ran off all too often. He said he went to see his mother. If so, she had a bad influence on him. I decided to postpone his tonsure.’

And that, of course, explained why the young acolyte looked no different from any other boy. Akitada was not sure if he liked
the abbot’s story. It might be true that Shokan, being cut off from the world, had taken a fatherly interest in a poor child and furthered his education, and that the boy had been tempted by the livelier world outside the monastery. It was equally possible that the boy had been forced into a sexual relationship he had no taste for and had run away. But he could not ask these questions and therefore focused on something else. ‘Are you certain that the woman was really his mother?’

Shokan said quickly, ‘No. I wondered many times, but the boy claimed she was.’

‘And you really have no idea where I might find her?’

‘None. I never saw her again after I paid her, and the monk I sent to look for her said she had disappeared. I confess I did not look very hard for her.’

‘Are you aware of any connection between the boy or his mother with the Kiyowara family?’

‘Kiyowara? No.’

Akitada, doubting Shokan’s memory, said, ‘Kiyowara was the Junior Controller of the Right. He was murdered a few days ago.’

Shokan blinked. ‘Really? I take little interest in worldly matters. Kiyowara? He must be one of the new men. There is too much violence. We live in the latter days of our faith. What makes you think Kansei had any connection with the man?’

‘He bears a rather striking resemblance to the young Kiyowara heir. Could he be the murdered man’s son?’

Shokan looked astonished and then a little excited. ‘I have no reason to think so, but I always felt that he was an unusual child. It surely would make this an extraordinary story.’

Stranger things had happened, Akitada thought, but he decided that he must ask another man about this. He took back the amulet, promised to keep Shokan informed about the boy’s fate, and left.

As he walked back to get his horse, it occurred to him that he might as well talk to the monk who had come to his house. He had surprised him with his disapproval of the acolyte and the abbot’s concern. He looked around and saw a group of small boys sitting under a pine tree. They were peering at a small bamboo cage.

Akitada joined them and admired the large, fierce-looking cricket inside. With the ease of upper-class children, they instantly included him in their discussion.

‘Maro caught him. We’re going to catch another and make them fight,’ said one.

‘He’ll be a vicious fighter,’ said another.

Their ages ranged between five and nine years. Maro was an older boy, but it was the youngest who was most impressed with the insect’s viciousness. The child was very much as Yori had been before his death. The pain of that memory was still sharp, but Akitada reminded himself of the little girl at home. Would she catch crickets some day? Perhaps not. Girls were more likely to collect fireflies. After an exchange of a few observations on crickets and other small creatures, he asked, ‘Would one of you know where I might find Saishin?’

They looked at each other and made faces. Maro got up reluctantly. ‘I’ll take you, sir,’ he offered.

‘Thank you. That’s very good of you,’ Akitada told him. They started across the monastery compound. ‘Do you by any chance remember the boy Kansei?’

Maro nodded. ‘He was one of the big boys. He was very disobedient,’ he said, ‘but His Reverence liked him, so he got away with it.’ He sounded matter-of-fact and a little envious.

‘Ah. What sorts of things did he do?’

‘Well, he ran away a lot. And then the monks would have to go search for him and that made them cross.’ Maro grinned. ‘And he didn’t do his sutra readings. And he’d go into the woods with a bow and arrow and shoot birds and things. The monks said he’d come to no good.’

‘And Saishin? He didn’t like Kansei much either, did he?’

‘Oh, Saishin hated him. We think it’s because His Reverence liked Kansei the most, even though Saishin is the best monk we have.’

‘The best? Really?’

The boy nodded. ‘Oh, yes. He performs more austerities than anyone, and he’s forever praying. See? There he is now.’ Maro stopped and pointed at the dark figure of a monk seated outside one of the temple halls. Saishin was in meditation pose, his hands on his knees, his eyes closed.

Maro said in a whisper, ‘I’ll leave you then, sir,’ bowed, and ran off at top speed.

Akitada decided that the boys had liked Kansei. There had been that small note of admiration in Maro’s tone when he had mentioned Kansei’s disobedience. They did not like Saishin.

Akitada approached the seated monk. The sound of his steps crunching the gravel did nothing to interrupt his meditation. Akitada was forced to clear his throat.

The hooded eyes opened slowly and looked at him. Saishin’s expression did not change.

‘You may recall coming to my house not long ago,’ Akitada said.

After a disconcertingly long moment, Saishin nodded. ‘I remember.’

‘It occurred to me that you might have some information that would help us find the lost boy.’

‘It is not likely.’

‘Was it you who saw Kansei with some other youths in the market?’

‘Yes.’

Akitada snapped, ‘Look, His Reverence wants the boy found. The least you can do is make an effort. Do you want me to go back and tell him you refused to answer my questions?’

Saishin did not react to this threat. He said in the same flat tone, ‘That would be a lie.’

‘You don’t want him found and returned to the monastery. Am I right?’

This time the pause was even longer. Saishin blinked and said, ‘It would be better for the monastery if he did not return.’

‘Why?’

‘He doesn’t belong.’

‘That’s nonsense. He’s been living here since he was five years old.’

‘He doesn’t belong.’

‘You mean he wouldn’t make a good monk?’

‘That, too.’

Akitada bit his lip. ‘Can you at least describe the boys you saw with him?’

Saishin frowned. ‘Scum. Criminals. Sometimes there were only two, sometimes five or six. They were his age, but bad. They had knives and the scars from knife fights. Devil’s spawn, all of them.’

‘No doubt,’ Akitada said dryly. ‘Do I take it that you kept a regular watch on the market area in order to keep the abbot informed about Kansei’s company?’

Saishin flushed. ‘I may have combined other errands with keeping an eye on one of our acolytes.’

And that meant that Saishin had done his best to blacken the boy’s reputation with the abbot. It might be immaterial, but Akitada kept it in mind.

‘What about the boy’s mother. Do you know where she lives?’

‘No. His Reverence asked me to find her, but she had moved away.’

Akitada gave up and got his horse.

At home, Trouble greeted him with the usual exuberance, but Genba and Seimei had their heads together studying a piece of paper.

Akitada dismounted and waited for Genba to take his horse to the stable. ‘Where’s Tora?’ he asked, looking around.

‘Tora got tired of sitting around so he offered to go to run an errand for cook,’ Genba said. ‘He’ll be back soon.’

Seimei still stood with the piece of paper in his hand. ‘What is it?’ Akitada asked. ‘Did someone bring a message?’

Seimei came and said, ‘After a fashion, sir.’ He held out the scrap of paper. It was dirty and crumpled, and Akitada hesitated to take it. ‘It was wrapped about a large stone and thrown over the back wall,’ Seimei explained.

Akitada took it and smoothed it out. The writing was in a good hand. It said, ‘Beware of fire.’