The Old Men of Omi (20 page)

The headman’s eyes widened. “The same? Are you sure, your Honor?” He flushed. “ Begging your pardon.”

Akitada smiled. “I know. It seems strange. And I’m not sure, no. As you say, they are common, and Otsu also had its share of fairs. It’s spring after all. But it did seem puzzling.”

“There’s a lot of drinking going on during those spring fairs. The dead men in Otsu, had they also been celebrating?”

“No. One was a judge. He died in his home. The other was a street sweeper. He also died at home. Both were knocked out and suffocated. The judge’s death looked natural at first, but Otsu has a good coroner. He found sign of suffocation.”

“Even so, begging your pardon, your Honor, I don’t see the connection between old Wakiya and your two victims.”

“Only that there was a Jizo with each body. It seems likely the murderer left them. And that murderer may be going about killing old people.”

A silence fell, then the headman said, “If it’s true, it’s terrible. What can I do?”

“Anything you can tell me about Wakiya and Juro may help.”

Masaie scratched his head. “Well, Wakiya was almost eighty and Juro seventy-five. Both were born and raised here. They were farmers, though they used to work for the Taira family until they got too old for it. Both liked to drink, though Wakiya was worse. Or at least his daughter-in-law claimed he was. She didn’t get along with the old man. I thought maybe she did it when we found him with his head bashed in. He was close to the house, and she has a bad temper. In the end it came to nothing, but some people still think she did it.”

Akitada, recalling the two in Otsu had been a brutal jailer and a corrupt judge, asked, “Were Wakiya and Juro well liked in the village?”

“Not really, but we honor the old.” He paused and chuckled. “Well, we tolerate them
because
they’re old, if you know what I mean.”

Akitada nodded. “What did they do that irritated people?”

“Wakiya quarreled with his neighbors, and Juro tried to cheat at dice. He was always caught. It wasn’t bad enough to make people want to kill them.”

“No. What about when they were younger?”

“That was before my time. Hiromasa may know. He was headman before my father.”

Akitada had hoped for a connection between the four old men. “Did they ever visit Otsu?”

Masaie looked surprised. “Probably. Everybody does. People visit the great temples and have a good time.”

“Yes, of course. Would either or both have been involved in a crime?”

“Lord Taira wouldn’t have employed them if they had broken the law. He gave them both a small piece of land for a farm when they left his service.”

“It’s not unusual to settle some land on aging servants,” Akitada commented.

“Well, it was for Lord Taira. He wasn’t known for his kindness around here.”

“I see. Well, I suppose I’ll have to settle for what you told me. Thank you, Masaie. Now I’d better have a talk with Hiromasa before I go back to Otsu.”

The headman took him to Hiromasa’s house. They found a whitebeard feeding his chickens. He turned out to be hard of hearing and spoke the local dialect so strongly that Masaie had to translate.

“This is Lord Sugawara,” Masaie shouted in the old man’s ear. Hiromasa turned his head and nodded to Akitada. Masaie shouted, “He’s come about Wakiya and Juro. Wants to know all about them.”

The old man grinned toothlessly, and said quite clearly, “They’re dead.”

Akitada nodded. “Do you know who would kill them?”

Masaie had to repeat this, and the old man started to speak at length and unintelligibly. Masaie kept nodding, interjecting questions from time to time: “What happened then?” “Why?” “Are you sure?”

Akitada waited impatiently.

In the end, Masaie nodded and turned to Akitada. “Interesting story, sir. He says they were lazy good-for-nothings but their
karma
was good. One day old Lord Sukenori gave them both some land and dismissed them from his service. It was a great good fortune for them. Wakiya was from a poor family and Juro had no home at all. Both started farming but, being lazy, they were always in trouble at tax time. Lord Sukenori forgave them their debts, but people disliked them for it.” Masaie paused. “But I don’t see anybody killing them now after twenty years.”

“No, that’s true enough. Ask him if he suspects anyone.”

Masaie shouted “Who would kill them?”

The old man made a face and spread his hands in the universal gesture of not knowing the answer. Then he said something and cackled.

Masaie translated. “He says the Taira will be glad to get their land back.”

Akitada sighed inwardly. Sukemichi might have got two parcels of rice land back, but he owned so much that this would hardly constitute a motive for killing two old peasants.

The problem with the four deaths was that they made no sense. All the men had in common were their gender and age. Could the killer simply be mad and kill old men randomly? It was unlikely, but try as he might, Akitada came up with no answer, and the memory of Yukiko intruded again.

The news that she would marry the chancellor’s son cast him into an insufferable gloom. He should have expected it. Kosehira’s cousins were men of power and influence, and such men arranged marriages amongst each other. He knew little of this particular scion of the ruling family but pictured him as a spoiled and haughty brat who was probably involved in affairs with court ladies. They all thought of themselves as Prince Genji.

Even if Yukiko would become this young man’s senior wife—something that was by no means certain when there were princesses of the blood available—Akitada thought she would be made profoundly unhappy in such a marriage. Her spirit and intelligence would be crushed as one among many wives and concubines of a powerful man.

But perhaps her fate would not be much better elsewhere.

He thought of his own marriage. While he had not kept other wives or mistresses, he had not always been an attentive husband. Well, in truth, he had rarely been attentive to Tamako, though it was usually work that had kept him away. But he and Tamako had shared their lives, had talked about their worries, had grieved together the deaths of loved ones, and in between they had found time to laugh. Tamako had always been the most important person in his life. Yukiko deserved as much.

But he could not marry her. Nothing had changed. He was still too old, too poor, too stodgy, and too dull. And now, knowing of Kosehira’s plans, he certainly could not ask his friend for her. Kosehira would turn him down, and that would end their friendship. And if he felt constrained to agree to the match, Akitada would forever live with the knowledge.

The ghosts of his past haunted him as he returned to the Taira manor. Most disturbing were certain memories he had of himself as a husband and father. He did not much like that other Akitada and pitied Tamako. He also pitied his children, and to a lesser degree the loyal men and women who served him.

Kosehira met him like this upon his return. Seeing his face, he asked, “What’s wrong? What has happened now?”

Akitada looked at his friend sadly. “Why do you like me, Kosehira? I don’t deserve it. I’ve been thinking about my marriage. I’ve not been a good husband and father.”

“Nonsense. You’re the best husband I know, which is why I— ” Kosehira broke off. “What brought this on?”

And suddenly Akitada could not help himself. He burst out, “This talk about Yukiko’s marriage to the chancellor’s son. Kosehira, surely she deserves better. He’ll ignore her for his mistresses.”

Kosehira gaped at him, then said, “Nothing is firm. The matter has merely been mentioned. Why do you care so much?”

Akitada flushed. “No reason. It just occurred to me how hard a woman’s life is. She has no choice in the matter of a husband.”

“You don’t know my daughter very well. And you don’t know me very well, either. Yukiko has been consulted. She will not be forced into a marriage against her will.”

“Oh!” Akitada sighed. “Sorry. I still struggle sometimes with my memories. Please forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. We are friends. It pleases me that you care for my child.” Kosehira smiled. “If you’re done with your investigation, perhaps we should head home?”

“I’ve done as much as I could. The heavens know what is going on. I certainly don’t.”

After they took their leave of their hosts and started the journey homeward, Akitada’s mood lifted somewhat. He even took some interest in another fair in the next town they passed through. This one was at a fox shrine and honored the
kami
of rice growing. Here, too, the small Jizos were for sale. Their sight sent shivers down Akitada’s back in spite of the general merry-making.

They reached Kosehira’s villa after sunset, tired and hungry. After a bath, they ate, though neither paid a great deal of attention to the food, and then parted to seek their beds.

Akitada was up early the next day. He dressed quickly and walked into the garden, his heart beating fast in anticipation. But there was no one at the
koi
pond. He stood for a little while, watching as the fish rose to the surface in hope of food. They shared his disappointment, then sank once more to the bottom and Akitada left.

He had no idea what he would have said to her. He had merely hoped to see her. A fool at forty is a true fool. He shook his head and wished Tora were here and they could practice with their swords.

Later at the tribunal, he tried to distract himself with work. The excursion to the pheasant reserve meant that stacks of documents had piled up at his desk. He worked till midday, then left to see Chief Takechi.

Takechi greeted him eagerly. “Ready for some more noodle soup, sir?”

“I had hoped you’d remember your offer.”

At the noodle restaurant, Takechi asked, “Well? Did you find out anything useful?

Akitada shared the information about Wakiya and Juro.

Takechi said, “I still don’t see a connection. Do you?”

Akitada said, “No, but I’m convinced there is something. If only I could grasp it. I had hoped you would.”

Takechi looked pleased by this. Their soup arrived and they ate for a while in silence. When they had finished, Takechi sat back and smacked is lips. “Good food is a great blessing. I hope I never lose the taste for it.”

Akitada laughed and gestured to the waiter for refills. “I suppose,” he said, “it is something that will still be left to us in old age.”

“That and our memories.”

Akitada knew all about memories, but at that moment, he had again the feeling that he was close to some fact they had overlooked. “All four,” he said “were old and not far apart in age. Perhaps something happened to them in the past., something that involved all of them. We should concentrate on some event in the past.”

Takechi looked doubtful. “What event?”

“I don’t know. Wakiya and Juro could have come to Otsu on a pilgrimage. The headman in Okuni said it was likely. Suppose they met the judge?”

“And the jailer? You think they committed a crime?”

Akitada sighed. “It’s not likely, or they would have known in Okuni.. It must be something else.”

The waiter arrived with more soup and they ate, more slowly this time and thoughtfully. But in the end, the bowls were empty and neither had come up with an answer. Takechi paid and they strolled back to his office, where one of the constables came running to tell them there was an urgent message.

They hurried inside, and Takechi opened a letter from the tribunal. A second letter was inside. It was addressed to Akitada. Takechi scanned his note while Akitada was still unfolding his letter.

“Taira Sukemichi’s been killed,” Takechi said.

Akitada read and nodded. “I must get back to the tribunal. It’s hard to accept. I just saw the man yesterday when we left him. What can have happened?”

Kosehira received him with a similar comment, adding, “We must go back right away. Do you mind?”

“Of course not. What does your message say?”

“It’s from the prefect in Echi. He was sent for by Sukemichi’s family. At least they didn’t take the law into their own hands. Sukemichi was found in his garden, bludgeoned to death.” Kosehira paused. “Nakahara had just left. For some reason, they suspect him, and the prefect wants him brought back. I don’t believe it for a moment. Short, fat, middle-aged Nakahara bludgeoning a strong young man like Sukemichi? It’s ridiculous.”

“I would agree. What about his family or one of the servants?”

“Much more likely. Besides, a robber could’ve got in and, being caught by Sukemichi, decided to kill him. Anyway, you’ll find out who did it. I’ll come along to introduce you to the prefect.”

Akitada did not share such confidence. “That’s a bit high-handed.,” he said with a smile. “I thought you invited me for a rest from my stressful life in the capital.”

Kosehira had the grace to look guilty. “I’m truly sorry, Akitada. I couldn’t know this would happen. Do you mind very much?”

“Not at all, brother. I was teasing you.”

“Well, you’ve already involved yourself in local crime. This is a much more important case.”

Akitada’s smile faded. “They’re all important,” he said soberly.

Kosehira nodded. “Yes, of course. I only meant that this one will create problems if we don’t find the perpetrator. The Taira family is likely to make trouble.”

“I see your point. Well, I’m at your disposal. Should we speak to Nakahara first? He must be back by now?”

Nakahara’s house on the outskirts of Otsu was indeed modest, but it was surrounded by a large garden. They were admitted by an elderly servant who reminded Akitada of Seimei. Nakahara came quickly, looking surprised. “What a pleasure! But you look serious. Is anything amiss?”

Kosehira said bluntly, “Yes. Sukemichi’s been found murdered.”

“Wha—?” Nakahara gulped.

Akitada thought his shock was genuine. “Let’s sit down,” he suggested. “We are going back but wondered if you could tell us anything. You left after us.”

“I know nothing,” gasped Nakahara, gesturing to some cushions. “Nothing at all. He was alive and quite well this morning. I left very early. What could have happened?