After a little, the music ended and there was some subdued talk. Embarrassed, Akitada rose, cleared his throat and went to greet the music teacher.
Sato was again with a woman, this one older and more elegant than the murdered girl. They had not heard him, and this time surely there was no doubt that the teacher and his visitor were lovers. Both were seated cross-legged, their lutes resting in their laps, and their heads inclined towards each other. But it was more than their physical proximity to each other. They exchanged soft glances and the woman reached out to caress Sato's cheek.
Taken aback, Akitada retreated, but he had already been seen. The couple jerked apart, staring at him. Making a bow, Akitada apologized for his intrusion. The woman blushed and assumed a more decorous kneeling posture. Her beauty, though mature, was poignant. Akitada explained lamely, "I heard the music and could not resist it."
"It's a holiday," snapped Sato angrily. "Don't you have a private life?"
The woman got up with her lute and slipped out without a word or gesture to either of them.
"I am sorry," Akitada said again, looking after her. "Believe me, if you are worried about my complaining about your private lessons, your secret is safe with me. But this lady played so well that she can hardly be your pupil." He flushed, thinking how this must sound to Sato.
Sato looked at him without expression. "She is a fellow musician and acquaintance who dropped by for a chat," he said. When Akitada made a move to leave also, Sato became hospitable. "Will you take some wine?"
Somewhat surprised, Akitada accepted readily. Sato was an interesting enigma. Akitada sipped his wine and said, "I assume the police captain has talked to you about the girl who was murdered in the park. Could you provide him with a name?"
"Yes. Her name's Omaki. I had to go and identify her body. Poor little wench!" Sato took a big gulp of his wine. "I suppose I've got you to thank for the police interest?"
Akitada met his eyes calmly. "I am afraid it was unavoidable. My servant and I found her, and I remembered meeting her with you."
Sato looked away. "Yes, I see. I suppose it couldn't be helped. She was a silly girl, but she didn't deserve to die so young." He grimaced. "It was a bit embarrassing, though. I met her in the Willow Quarter."
"She was a prostitute?"
"Not everybody in the Willow Quarter is a prostitute," snapped Sato angrily. But he calmed down quickly and sighed. "Poor Omaki. She was training to become an entertainer. If you ask me, she was on her way to becoming a prostitute when she died. It was her karma. Her father's a poor man, an umbrella maker called Hishiya. They live in the sixth ward. The mother had died and he remarried. It's the usual story: the second wife did not get along with the grown daughter. The girl threatened to sell herself to a brothel rather than stay home as a servant to the new wife. The father, who's a decent man, came to me one evening. Told me the girl played the lute and asked if I could get her a job. I listened to her play. She was untrained but not bad. The long and the short of it was that we made an arrangement by which I got her a job in a place I know, and she paid me for a few lessons. She learned quickly. Anyone else would have succeeded. But for her? All wasted! Poor silly chit!"
He filled his cup again, drank deeply, and stared out the door. Akitada sipped his wine slowly. He did not believe either the sentiments or explanations. Sato had become positively chatty. The man's behavior, his reputation, the fleshy, sensuous lips and soulful eyes- all were at odds with the detachment he pretended. No, Sato was a womanizer, perhaps a murderer, not a humanitarian.
"Did you know of anything that might help the police find her killer?" Akitada asked.
Sato shook his head. "I doubt it. I knew she was with child, foolish girl. That meant the end of her career just as it was starting. But she didn't seem to care. When I asked her about the child's father and her plans, she closed up. Actually, if anything, she seemed more cheerful, or excited, than before." He paused and thought. "There was one thing I told that captain. I saw her with one of the students here. Maybe that young rascal was the father of her child. He used to moon about the place where she worked. Damned youngsters ought to keep their heads in their books! Though this particular one was hardly a dashing figure. Can't imagine what she saw in him!"
There was a sharp twanging sound, and Akitada's eyes went to the music teacher's hands. They were clenched tightly around the neck of the lute. Sato followed his glance and immediately relaxed his long fingers. They looked powerful from twisting tight lute strings, and agile from many hours of practice. Powerful and agile enough to twist a piece of silk around a woman's neck and strangle her to death?
"Oh, I can see what's going through your mind," Sato said angrily. "It wasn't my brat and I had nothing to do with her death. And having said that much, I have no intention of pursuing the subject."
Akitada reddened, disclaimed such suspicions, and changed the subject to the previous evening. But his comments about Oe's argument with Fujiwara seemed to irritate Sato more. He growled, "I wasn't there, and I don't care a monkey's fart what that bastard Oe does. Serves him right, if he made a mess of himself." Grasping his lute, he got to his feet.
It was a signal that the conversation was over. Akitada rose also and left to return to his room, where he found a bleary-eyed Tora waiting for him.
"You look terrible," Akitada said sourly, eyeing Tora's unshaven chin, his dishevelled hair and the bloodshot eyes. "Where have you been? Have you had any sleep?"
"None at all!" Tora grinned. "Sleep isn't everything. As you'd find out if you tried it. You know, you should sleep with a woman more often. It may not be restful, but it's a great deal better than sleeping alone. Not having a woman saps a man's vital essence after a while. I may look worse than you, but my vital essence is in top shape, thanks to the prettiest and most talented female you ever saw. Oh, what a body that girl has… and the things she does with it! There's a position she calls 'monkeys swinging from a branch' where she-"
"Enough!" Akitada roared in a sudden fury. "Watch your tongue when you speak to me! And spare me the details of your sordid affairs! Seimei is quite right. I have spoiled you. Your excessive familiarity is beginning to grate. And now you are becoming insolent. Not only do you lack all respect for your betters, but you don't seem to do much work. Why did you not return to the house last night and report to your mistress for your duties this morning?"
Tora gaped at his master speechlessly.
"My mother complained about you," blustered Akitada, "and I did not know what to say. Be careful! If you try my patience too much, I shall abandon you to the streets."
Looking pale, Tora scrambled to his feet. "I'll go right now, sir," he mumbled, eyes averted and his voice tight with shock.
Immediately ashamed of his outburst, Akitada bit his lip. "Well, er, maybe you'd better wait a little before showing up at home. Er… do you know anything about building kites?"
"Making kites? Of course! And flying them! When I was a kid, I was champion in my village two years running. Why?"
"Some of the younger students are making kites in the dormitory courtyard. I think they must plan to fly them today. There is a good breeze for it. I want you to go over and talk to the Minamoto boy. He is probably still on the veranda pretending to read a book. You might see if you can get him interested in kites."
"A boy who's not interested in kites? You must be joking!" Tora paused abruptly and said, "I beg your pardon, sir. I'll take care of that right away." He rushed out, then stuck his head back in. "Oh, I forgot. I've solved your other case for you. The dead girl's name is Omaki. She played the lute in one of the wine houses in the Willow Quarter until she was fired."