The Hell Screen (31 page)

Akitada sipped his tea. “Do what you like! Carry on with the accounts,” he said. “I have to go out this morning.”

Seimei hesitated, looking unhappy, then bowed and left.

In spite of the early hour, Kobe was waiting at the prison when Akitada was shown to the office set aside for his use. Kobe’s mood was almost conciliatory. He offered Akitada warm wine.

“No, thank you.” Akitada found it impossible to produce a polite smile. Seating himself across from Kobe, he plunged into his speech. “Last night I was shocked and angered by your accusations. Today I find that I must apologize for the foolish and dangerous actions of a member of my family. As head of the family, I take full responsibility for what happened, even though I had no knowledge of it.”

Kobe nodded. He looked politely attentive. “Please continue!”

“I am afraid that the woman your men followed from the prison to my house is my younger sister Yoshiko.”

At that Kobe’s eyes widened. “Your sister?”

“Yes. It appears that she formed an attachment to the prisoner many years ago. I am to blame for her visits, because I carelessly discussed the Nagaoka murder with her. At the time, I had no idea that she knew anyone in that family, and she did not tell me.”

Kobe seemed too astonished to doubt Akitada’s words. “I see,” he murmured. “How very unpleasant for you! It would hardly have occurred to you that your sister would form such a very unsuitable ... relationship with a person of that type. You have my sympathy.”

For a moment, Akitada thought he was being mocked. But Kobe’s face expressed only shock and concern. Perversely, this easy acceptance of his explanation, entailing as it did revelations of a personally embarrassing nature, angered Akitada. Surely the man Yoshiko had become involved with was not so completely contemptible. Nagaoka was a merchant, but a highly respected one and a man of considerable culture. And the man Akitada remembered meeting in the rain at the temple gate had appeared gentlemanly. Then he realized that, to Kobe, Kojiro was a criminal, and that his sister’s reputation depended on clearing her lover of the murder charge.

He pulled himself together and said, “I am much obliged to you for believing me, Superintendent. Since my sister is now deeply implicated in the case, I wonder if you might reconsider your position and allow me to assist you.” He steeled himself for another refusal.

To his surprise, Kobe pursed his lips and studied the ceiling thoughtfully. He said, “Hmm,” and after a moment, again, “Hmm.”

Encouraged by this, his heart beating faster, Akitada promised rashly, “I would, of course, do nothing but what you had approved beforehand, work under your supervision, so to speak.”

Kobe brought his eyes back from the ceiling and looked at him. He seemed amused; the corner of his mouth twitched. “I did not think the famous Sugawara would ever say such words to me. Will you go another step, my lord, and promise to be bound by my decision?”

Akitada flushed with shame, but said steadily enough, “Yes.”

Kobe rose. “Come along, then. You shall speak to the prisoner. In my presence.”

Akitada hardly knew what to make of Kobe’s sudden compliance and assumed it had been bought with his own humiliation. So be it! As they walked through the outer offices and past scores of police officers and constables toward the wing of the building where the cells were, it occurred to him that he had no idea how to proceed. The man’s relationship with Yoshiko made any thorough questioning awkward. And Kobe’s presence at this first meeting between them was more than just embarrassing.

The figure who rose with a rattle of chains and stood, supporting himself against the wall, bore little resemblance to the sturdy young man at the mountain temple. Both his hair and beard had grown untended, he wore a ragged, stained shirt and loose cotton pants, and stood barefoot on the cold dirt floor of the cell. There was a smear of blood on his shoulder where the shirt had slipped, and more traces of bleeding on his chin from biting his lower lip.

Akitada had seen men look like this before—too many times—and he met the eyes of the prisoner. The eyes usually told the story. If they had that dull, hopeless look, a sign of having stopped fighting against a stronger force, one knew that the prisoner had told all he knew. He had come to wish for it as much as it sickened him, for it meant there would be no more beatings.

Kojiro did not have that look yet. He seemed both defiant and indifferent as he glanced from Kobe to Akitada. He frowned, then returned his attention to the superintendent. Apparently he did not remember their meeting. He neither bowed nor spoke, but an expectant silence hung heavy between them.

Akitada wondered what Yoshiko could have seen in this man. True, he was not at his best at the moment, but even cleaned up, he would only be an ordinary man of middling height, certainly shorter than either Akitada or Kobe, squarely built, with a face which was neither distinguished nor handsome. The cheekbones were broad, the nose flat, and the lips too wide and thick. He looked like what he was, a peasant. To be sure, he was not as blackened by the sun, nor as stringy and bent from labor in the rice paddies, but he certainly lacked every vestige of male grace as it was defined by people of Akitada’s rank. Akitada was not vain and thought poorly of his own appearance, but he had formed certain ideas about the sort of men women admired. Kojiro did not fit them.

It was Kobe who broke the silence first. “Well, Kojiro. I understand you continued your stubbornness during questioning yesterday.”

The prisoner did not answer, but he moved his shoulders slightly, as if he wanted to remind himself of the occasion. Akitada had seen the backs of “stubborn” prisoners and knew the man was in pain.

Kobe continued, “It was a waste of time, you know. We found out who the young lady was.”

Something flickered in Kojiro’s eyes, but he said nothing. He fears a trap, thought Akitada, mildly surprised that the peasant had attempted to protect Yoshiko’s honor with his own skin.

The prisoner finally opened his lips and croaked, “What do you want, Superintendent?”

Kobe grinned unpleasantly. “I? Nothing. I am here because this gentleman has some questions to put to you.”

The man turned to look at Akitada warily.

Akitada did not like the cat-and-mouse game. He said brusquely, “My name is Sugawara. Yoshiko has told me of her visits here.”

That brought a reaction. The prisoner jerked and his eyes grew large with shock. A slow flush rose from his neck into his face. He said hoarsely, “It was nothing. The young lady took pity and brought food a few times. A charitable act to please Buddha. If some people have chosen to put a dishonorable interpretation on her generous gesture, it only shames them. The guard can testify that nothing passed between us but a few rice cakes.”

“I am not here to discuss my sister’s visits, but to see if you can be helped in some way.”

A sudden wild and joyous hope flashed in the man’s eyes. “You mean to help us?”

Akitada snapped, “You make a mistake. If I have anything to say in the matter, you will never see my sister again. A union between your family and mine is, as you have been told before, out of the question.” He saw the light die in Kojiro’s eyes without regret. It was best to be brutally frank in such matters.

The prisoner said tonelessly, “I see. Or rather, I don’t see. Why bother to come, in that case?”

Akitada cleared his throat. “My interest in your case predates the recent revelations about your... acquaintance with my sister, as Superintendent Kobe will verify. In fact, we met once briefly at the temple gate. It was raining, and you were with your sister-in-law.”

Kojiro nodded. “Yes. I do remember now. However, that still does not explain your interest in me, my lord. It is, of course, very good of you, but I must beg you to leave the matter alone. Under the circumstances, you will find it only distasteful, and I have nothing to lose.” He turned away from them to face the wall. They could see the large dried bloodstains on the back of his shirt now.

Akitada bit his lip. If his sister had not meddled, this man might not have been tortured. He said, “My distaste extends only to injustice,” with a glance at Kobe, who pursed his lips and studied the ceiling of the cell. “I have been told that you confessed to the murder of your sister-in-law, but later withdrew that confession. Are you innocent?”

Without turning around, the prisoner said, “Guilt or innocence, my lord, are relative terms. Of all the people I know, only one is truly innocent, your sister. The rest of us manage to gather enough sins of the flesh or against our fellow creatures to make suitable game for the demons of hell.”

Akitada stared at the bloodied, chained, sagging figure of the man. Where had a man of his class learned such language? And why was he so uncooperative when his life was at stake? Instead of eagerly accepting the proffered help, he had made Akitada uncomfortably aware of his own shortcomings, and—in view of recent events—of those of his parents. He thought fleetingly about their sins and their likely fate at the hands of the mighty judge of the dead. Noami’s hell screen depicted vividly the punishments in the netherworld, and he recalled his nightmare in the temple. The chained and bloodstained Kojiro looked little better than Noami’s persecuted souls in the hell of the sharp knives. The human world also had its demons.

Struggling for control, and for patience with this obstinate man, he said, “I was there that night, though I did not stay in the visitors’ quarters. I heard a woman scream. I am not convinced that you killed Mrs. Nagaoka. If you will allow me, I shall do my best to find out what really happened. I am afraid the evidence against you is too strong to clear you of the crime, but perhaps we may find the real killer.”

Kojiro turned around. He looked at Akitada and then at Kobe. To Kobe he said, “Have you changed your mind also, Superintendent?”

Kobe shook his head. “Not at all. But I am a fair man.”

Kojiro turned back to Akitada. “I cannot fathom your motives for wishing to clear me, but I am prepared to do what I can. Mind you, I still do not care what happens to me, but she would wish me to. She hoped once that you would take my case. For her sake, I shall tell you what I remember and answer all your questions, but do not expect much. There was a time when I thought I was guilty.”

Akitada was irritated by the renewed reference to Yoshiko but decided to overlook it. “Begin by telling me about your relationship with your sister-in-law.”

“My brother met his wife on one of his periodic buying trips in the country. Nobuko was the daughter of a retired academician with a small country estate. She was younger than my brother, but eager to find a husband of suitable background and income.” Kojiro grimaced slightly. “Some young women,” he said, “seem to wish for a life of luxury, and the trade may, after all, be a fair one. My brother was middle-aged and, no doubt, rather dull company for a pretty and lively young woman. But he had two advantages. He had money and he resided in the capital. Her father’s motive was more complicated, I think. Professor Yasaburo is an educated man who struggled to make ends meet and could not afford to pay for a dower for his daughter. No doubt he wished to provide for his only child. In any case, she came to my brother’s house and I acquired a sister-in-law. I liked Nobuko very much at first. She was close to my age and talented in music. On my visits, we used to play the lute and sing songs together while my brother watched and listened.” A sadness passed over Kojiro’s face. “My brother was deeply attached to Nobuko. He could not take his eyes off her, and I was glad. But this soon changed.” The prisoner moved uncomfortably and sighed.

They were all uncomfortable standing there on that filthy, cold floor, thought Akitada, but Kojiro, chained and in pain, was much the worse off. Still, there was nothing to be done about it. To hurry the tale along, Akitada urged, “What changed?”

Kojiro said bleakly, “One day my sister-in-law asked me to make love to her. She claimed that my brother could no longer ... satisfy her and that she could not sleep for love of me. I was appalled and immediately left my brother’s house. From then on I stayed away as much as I could, but my brother would send for me. I could not tell him what had happened.”

“You never acceded to her wishes?”