The Hell Screen (56 page)

A little embarrassed by such raw emotion, Akitada looked down at his hands and smiled. “I have gone over my accounts and find that I shall be able to give Yoshiko the same dower as her sister.” He mentioned figures—silver, rice fields, bolts of silk—and then asked; “Is this satisfactory to you?”

Kojiro had listened in amazement. “My lord,” he gasped, “there is no need. You are exceedingly generous, but I assure you, I am quite well-to-do. My property in the country is large. I can support Yoshiko in the style she was born to in spite of my station in life.”

“Well, then it’s settled and you must call me Akitada,” said Akitada with a nod. “Yoshiko shall have what I promised and you shall also make provisions for her and her children. We can work out the details later. Yoshiko has had a hard life in the past. But I am determined that shall change.” He rose, smiling.

Kojiro stumbled to his feet. “I—don’t know what to say,” he stammered. “Can I see her?”

“Of course. Come tonight and join us for a family meal. I shall ask my brother-in-law. Yoshiko’s sister is due to give birth and will be unable to come.” This was fortunate under the circumstances. Akiko would need time to adjust to Yoshiko’s marriage to a commoner. At the gate he stopped. “And I trust you will join us for an outing tomorrow night. It is the day of the spirit festival, and there will be music and dances in the Spring Garden. I am told a fine group of actors and acrobats will perform the demon chase.”

Kojiro looked too overwhelmed to protest. He bowed and nodded with a smile. He bowed and smiled again when Akitada made his farewells. And when Akitada glanced back over his shoulder some distance from Nagaoka’s house, Kojiro still stood in the open gate, smiling and raising his arm to wave. It was then that Akitada remembered the story of Fujiwara Moroie, who had lost his true love by wasting time.

* * * *

The last day of the year dawned with a clear sky. In the Sugawara house, preparations for the New Year’s festivities were in full swing. Tora and Genba were climbing all over the gate and roof of the house, fixing pine branches to the rafters and stringing sacred ropes of rice straw. In the kitchen, foodstuffs piled up and the cook directed hired helpers in the preparations for the New Year’s banquet Akitada planned to give for friends and colleagues. Tamako, her silk gown covered with a cotton jacket, stuffed New Year’s rice cakes with sweet bean paste, and handed them to her little maid to shape into perfect, auspicious moon shapes.

Akitada still took it easy, but on this morning he set out early to make seasonal calls and deliver invitations. Some of these were for the banquet, but the others were for this very night, the last night of the old year, when evil spirits were exorcised and driven from the capital.

Akitada’s party would attend the celebration sponsored by the crown prince for the officials and clerks who worked in the government complex. Many of these were commoners and would bring their families. Akitada’s party included not only his family and retainers, but also Superintendent Kobe and Miss Plumblossom.

Two hours before sunset, the women and Yori climbed into the ox-drawn carriage which they shared with hampers of food and pitchers of wine, and everyone set out for the Spring Garden.

A sizable crowd had gathered around the lake pavilion for the event. Viewing stands awaited the noble families and ropes separated the rest of the crowd from an open area and the tent and raised stage reserved for the performers. Akitada led his family and guests to one of the stands, and saw the women and Yori settled behind the bamboo screening which protected them from the curious eyes of the crowd. When Miss Plumblossom protested that she would not be able to wave to her friends, Tamako persuaded her that she was needed to explain the acrobatics.

Akitada joined Kojiro, Toshikage, and Kobe in the front seats, while Seimei, Harada, Genba, Tora, and Saburo sat behind them. Hired servants scrambled back and forth with wine and refreshments.

Toshikage had accepted Kojiro easily. His happiness almost matched that of the bridegroom. His son Tadamine had been recalled from military duty in the east and was back in the capital to take up his post in the Palace Guard.

Kobe alone was irritable. He had tried to refuse, claiming police business, and Akitada had been forced to resort to hints of important disclosures before he relented. As it was, he fidgeted impatiently as old friends and colleagues stopped by to wish Akitada well.

When the music started, the crowd around their viewing stand thinned.

Customarily the first dances were formal and traditional, performed by young men or boys of the nobility. They wore gorgeous robes with long stiff trains and danced the ancient court rites with solemn perfection.

Kobe glared at them. “Very pretty,” he grumbled, “if you have nothing else to do with your life. Give me a wrestling match any day. At least that might teach me something about dealing with criminals. What are we waiting for?”

Akitada was becoming uneasy about his plan, but said, “Patience! You will find out soon enough.” He was taking a chance, but it was his only chance. He cast a glance at Kojiro and wished it had been possible to warn him, but everything depended on a spontaneous reaction.

When the acrobats came on, the tone of the entertainment changed abruptly to noisy good humor. The twins Gold and Silver were particular favorites, and Tora roared his approval of Gold’s somersaults so vociferously that Seimei clapped a hand over his mouth. In the sudden lull, Miss Plumblossom’s voice came from the screened enclosure. “Higher! Higher! Another flip, girls! Show them your bottoms! Bravo! I knew you could do it!”

Seimei looked outraged and plucked his master’s sleeve, but Akitada laughed. He was watching the area below the stage where Uemon’s Players were gathering for their turn.

Someone had chosen the farce
Priest Fukko Begs for Robes,
a piece which delighted both gentry and commoners because it made fun of a certain type of greedy Buddhist priest. Silence fell when Uemon himself, a thin, venerable-looking man in an elegant black silk robe, climbed the stage to recite the part of the much-provoked benefactor. Danjuro was to play the title role of the gluttonous monk.

After a brief interlude of music, a fat monk staggered onto the stage and began his antics. Danjuro’s performance was impressive. He looked, spoke, and acted exactly like the fat, middle-aged cleric: lazy, sniveling, pompous, and self-indulgent. The crowd roared its approval.

Given his dislike for all things Buddhist, Akitada enjoyed the farce, but he found it hard to laugh. Behind the mask of comedy was an odious truth.

Beside him, Kobe moved restlessly again. “Look at him,” he whispered into Akitada’s ear. “He makes it seem so easy. Do you suppose the fellow who poisoned Yasaburo could’ve masqueraded as a Buddhist priest?”

Akitada compressed his lips, his eyes on the actor. “Why not? I would not be surprised if he looked exactly like Fukko.”

Kobe stared from him to the stage and frowned. “You’re right. If that’s why you brought me here, you could have told me instead.”

“There is more.”

The farce closed and Uemon announced the dance of the celestial fairies. This was what Akitada had been waiting for. His heart started pounding. It was getting late, and he had not counted on the early darkness and their distance from the stage.

With some relief he saw that attendants were lighting lanterns on the eaves of the main pavilion and the viewing stands. Around the stage, more colored paper lanterns swung from ropes and from tall bamboo poles. The fading daylight was the color of pale wisteria and, combined with the colored lights, it made a fairyland of the scene. From behind the screen, Akitada could hear the women exclaim with delight.

The musicians struck up again, a dainty, otherworldly piece in which the flutes predominated over the drums. Then the dancers climbed to the stage one by one, eight women in all. They wore tall gilded crowns with softly tinkling bells and pendants on their heads and were dressed in diaphanous silk robes, each in a different shade from azure blue through rose, golden yellow, copper, leaf green, plum purple, and cherry red to the palest violet, and they moved with slow grace to the music of the flutes. Their faces and hands were covered thickly with white paint, charcoal outlined their eyes, and their mouths were tiny crimson bows. The masklike makeup made them all look the same, beautiful but remote. This illusion was heightened because they performed all movements and turns in unison, seeming to float above the wooden boards of the stage.

“Beautiful,” breathed Toshikage beside Akitada.

Akitada did not answer. He was beginning to despair. It was impossible to tell the women apart. The tallest was the lead dancer, and her gestures seemed to him a little more abrupt, her movements more designed to attract the eyes of the crowd. Yes, he thought, that’s the one. She is not quite in step with the others and a show-off besides. He glanced at Kojiro, who smiled back cheerfully. Akitada clenched his hands.

The dancers bowed to great applause and then, led by the tall fairy, descended from the stage to parade past the viewing stands, pausing now and then to perform movements of the dance. Akitada’s heart started pounding again. He had forgotten about this custom, which distinguished professionals from noble amateurs. The actors had a living to make, and looked for sponsors and protectors among the crowd. It gave him another chance, but might also precipitate an ugly incident. He sat in an agony of apprehension as the young women approached the Sugawara stand. Half-hopeful, half-fearful, he awaited the confrontation.

The lead dancer started a new routine. Akitada’s eyes went from her to Kojiro. Kojiro had been watching with polite interest, but suddenly his face changed, he stiffened, looked momentarily confused, and opened his mouth to say something. At that moment the short dance ended, and Tora jumped up to shout his compliments down to Gold, one of the eight fairies. The lead dancer gave him an angry glance, tossed her head so that the bells of her headdress jingled loudly, and pranced off, followed by the others. Akitada sagged with relief.

A pale Kojiro passed a shaking hand over his face as he stared after the disappearing dancers. Touching his arm, Akitada asked softly, “What is it? You look as if you had seen a ghost.”

“A ghost?” Kojiro laughed shakily. “Yes. Or a devil!” He gave a shudder. “It’s the night for it. I thought that first dancer... I could have sworn... heaven help me, but I thought I was looking at Nobuko. That woman will haunt me the rest of my life.”

Akitada exhaled with relief. It had worked. “Relax,” he said, giving Kojiro’s arm a squeeze. “It was no ghost. Yes. That was your brother’s wife. I hoped you would recognize her earlier. Thank the heavens she did not see you and make a run for it.” He turned to Kobe. “You heard? That lead dancer is Nagaoka’s wife, alive and well. The murdered woman was someone else, possibly one of the actresses who left the company about that time. You may recall I questioned her identity.”

Kobe gaped at him. “Is this some sort of joke? Nagaoka himself identified the body.”

“Nagaoka was overwrought and identified the expensive gown he had just given to his wife.”

“But then ...” Kobe’s mind was working furiously. He muttered conjectures to himself. “One of the actresses? Then the actors are involved... but why would the Nagaoka woman ... did
she
kill the other woman? Why? No, it makes no sense.” He glared at Akitada. “Was this your surprise?”

“Yes. The actor Danjuro was her accessory. The motive, or motives, were greed and a passion for theater. They extorted blood money from Nagaoka and then killed him. Yasaburo was poisoned by Danjuro, who was wearing the costume of the priest, to protect himself and Nobuko. Do you want to make the arrests now or wait until after the crowd has left?”

Kobe’s startled expression changed to one of anger. “You planned this to show off your brilliant detective work and made me look an idiot,” he charged. “Even if you are right, and I don’t for a moment believe your far-fetched tale, how do you expect me to conduct an investigation and arrest here and without constables?”

“Come, there are only two of them. And we have Tora and Genba. Besides, Kojiro and Toshikage will lend a hand. It should not be too difficult to capture two individuals, and one of them a woman.” Kobe looked irresolute, and Akitada urged, “We could at least confront them with Kojiro and see what happens.”

Kobe bit his lip and glanced around. It was completely dark by now. The attendants were taking down the colored lanterns and replacing them with torches. “Very well,” he said, rising to his feet. “Let’s go see what that dancer has to say.”