Auntie burst into a loud cackle and slapped at him. "Liar! I saw her face today. If she got any sleep, I'll be a monkey's mother."
Tora made a grab for her and pinched her buttocks. She squealed, "What did you do that for?"
"Just feeling for your tail, Auntie dear."
They burst into laughter as the waitress walked in with the wine. She looked at Tora with new respect. When they were alone again, Tora sipped, smacked his lips appreciatively, and said, "The chicken told me you fired the pretty lute player because she was breeding. I've been wondering who's been playing her 'lute'?"
Auntie's smile disappeared. She narrowed her eyes. "That girl's been found murdered," she said. "What is it to you?"
Tora decided that lies were inadvisable with this shrewd woman. "It happens," he said, "that my master takes a great interest in crimes, and he's promised to help the young fellow the police have arrested. He doesn't think the boy did it. I'm in a bit of trouble at the moment and thought the master might forget the matter if I could find out something useful about the girl's friends."
"So you're trying to pin the murder on one of my customers, eh?"
"Auntie, I swear the student couldn't have done it. He's pathetic. As ugly as sin and twice as naïve as a baby. The fool met her here, and she made him think she liked him. Then she dumped him. He's been going crazy ever since."
"Him? Yes, I saw him. No money there! Dry as last week's rice cakes and less appealing, I told her, but she said she wouldn't mind being a scholar's lady some day."
"Well, she turned him down," said Tora. "I figure she found a better prospect."
The auntie looked thoughtful and pursed her lips. "That girl was always secretive. And she never carried on with the customers while she was working, I'll give her that. She could have done a good business, that one, but she wanted to be a famous entertainer."
Tora got impatient. "Come on! There had to be a man."
"Well, she took lute lessons from one of the music masters at the university. The man spends most of his nights in the Willow. Maybe the kid was his. I expect that's the way he got paid for his lessons."
There was a loud gasp from the door. "That's a horrible lie!" cried Madame Sakaki, white-faced with anger. She pushed the door wider and came in. "How can you say such things? Why must you ruin a man who has never hurt you? For all you know this person will tell the police what you said, and they'll arrest Sato. And once they have him in their jail, they'll torture him till he confesses, and then…" She slumped on the floor and burst into tears.
The auntie tsked, got up and went to kneel beside the weeping woman. "Now, now." She put an arm around Madame Sakaki's shoulders. "Do not fret. You've been working too hard, dear, playing every night, and then going home to take care of your parents and husband, and the little ones. This is only Tora, a good friend of mine. He won't get your precious teacher in trouble."
Oh, won't he? thought Tora, when his eye fell on the open door. Michiko was hovering outside. His face broke into a broad smile, but she put a finger to her lips. Tora rose, nodding to the auntie, and went out, closing the door behind him.
"I've missed you, sweet," said Tora to Michiko, nuzzling her neck. "See? I couldn't stay away even one night."
"Not here," she hissed. "I'm working. Come to my place later."
She ran past him into the well-lit front room, where she bowed deeply before an arriving guest in an expensive brown silk robe, and cried, "Kurata-san! Welcome! The Big Willow lost all its fine leaves when Kurata-san stopped coming, and the songbirds were about to fly away from the winter of your absence."
Tora stared, anger rising inside him. He recognized the haughty silk merchant even in these luxurious clothes and the formal hat. The man patted Michiko's cheek and then put his arm around her shoulders. Tora was about to intercede with a well-placed fist when the auntie pushed past him and made a great outcry over the new guest. A bevy of pretty women materialized, and they all walked down the hallway. Tora followed, scowling.
"But Kurata-san," purred Auntie, "what happened? We have been so worried about you. Priceless Pearl wept because she thought you were ill, and Precious Jade has refused all her customers. I hope you weren't angry with us?"
"No, no." The man's voice was high and sharp, and his small eyes undressed the women. "I was merely preoccupied with private affairs."
"Private affairs?" wailed Auntie. "What a faithless fellow! And to think that my beauties suffered sleepless nights over you!"
The merchant laughed and reached out to run a thin, yellow finger along Michiko's slender neck. "I see," he said, eyeing Michiko speculatively, "that I must try to make up for it. Fortunately I have taken a special tonic tonight and feel strong enough for all your nieces, Auntie." Without taking his eyes from Michiko, he asked, "Is my usual room available?"
At that moment, the auntie turned and caught sight of Tora's murderous expression. Leaving Kurata to Michiko and the other girls, she barred Tora's way. "Private party," she snapped.
Consumed with fury, Tora retreated to the front room. He hung around the restaurant for another hour without seeing either Michiko or the auntie again. Finally he left in disgust and walked to the market, where he ate his supper and bought a cheap lantern. Then he returned to the alley behind the umbrella maker's house.
All was dark and quiet. Tora eyed the house. No doubt Mrs. Hishiya had long since dismissed her "cousin," fed her unsuspecting husband his supper, and retired with him. Poor craftsmen and their families were fast asleep at this hour. And so were starving little maids, Tora hoped. He was not, in any case, worried about real, flesh-and-bone people. It was Omaki's restless spirit which he was afraid to meet. Then he thought of the revelers at the Willow on the other side of town and got angry enough to suppress his fears.
There was a quarter moon out, which shed just enough light for Tora to find a thin sliver of bamboo among the debris, creep across the small yard, and climb up the barrel and stacked wood to the ledge. He accomplished this with a minimum of noise and walked carefully along the ledge to the shuttered window. This he found latched so carelessly that the bamboo strip inserted between the panels opened them at the first try. He listened, muttered a brief prayer, and stepped over the sill into darkness.
When he straightened up, his head crashed into an overhead beam. The noise reverberated and fiery flashes exploded inside his skull. He froze and whispered, "Omaki, do not be angry! I am trying to help! I will find your killer, if you don't hurt me."
Somewhere down below a window opened. Tora opened his eyes and sucked in his breath. He had woken someone. There were the sounds of a muttered conversation, then Mrs. Hishiya's sleepy voice cried, "Shoo! Damned cat!" and Tora heard the sound of something heavy being thrown. Then the window slammed shut and silence fell.
Tora breathed a sigh of relief and softly closed the shutters. He struck a flint with trembling fingers, and lit his lantern.
He was in a small space, right under the eaves, no more than three mats in size. Four stacked clothes boxes, a roll of bedding, and a lute hanging from a nail proved that he had found the dead girl's room. It was blessedly empty of both the living and the dead. He checked the door and found it locked.
It did not take long to search the room. There was little in it beyond the contents of the four boxes and a few small knickknacks on a cross beam. The boxes contained the girl's clothing, separated by season of the year. Tora was surprised when he discovered that two of the chests, those for spring and summer, contained not only some plain, serviceable cotton robes but also silks. In the summer chest especially, he found silk under-robes, two bolts of glossy pale blue and peach-colored silk, and a gown in a bright shade of plum blossom red. He put everything back the way he had found it, and turned to the knickknacks. Omaki's everyday comb of plain wood, with a few teeth missing, lay next to a small lacquered one with a design of golden chrysanthemums. There were several fans, most serviceable paper and bamboo, but one was silk, painted with a pair of ducks under a spray of cherry blossoms. A small brocade envelope next to the fans contained visiting cards, black brush strokes on red paper covered with gold dust. Tora looked at these, raised his eyebrows whistling softly, and pushed the envelope inside his robe. He glanced around the room, bowed deeply to the unseen presence of the dead girl, then blew out his light and quietly climbed out and down again.