Finally he suggested to His Majesty that here was an opportunity to be remembered forever as the sovereign who had brought lasting peace and prosperity to his capital and nation by ending a legacy that had made his officials the mockery of every low criminal roaming the streets. How long, he asked, would it be before foreigners saw the nation’s weakness and invaded the country?
When he was done, Nakatoshi laid down his brush and rubbed his hand. He stared at Akitada with shining eyes. “That was magnificent,” he said. “Will you really send it?”
Akitada found he had a fierce headache and massaged his neck. “Of course. Tomorrow. As soon as I fill in a few missing dates and polish it a little. I’m too tired now.” He rubbed his eyes and winced.
“Will that be entirely wise, sir?”
Akitada looked at the young clerk in surprise. “Wise? I don’t know if it is wise. I only know it must be done and you and I must pray that His Majesty will listen.”
“But, sir, you cannot have thought how this will sound to His Majesty and his present administration. You as much as tell him that he and his ministers are responsible for the present unrest.”
Akitada frowned. “Hmm. Mistakes have been made by previous administrations but, yes, I suppose I do suggest that. The worst abuses have been going on for fifty years or more. They could have done something, anything. Of course, the emperor is still very young, but I’m counting on the fact that this memorial will pass through the chancellor’s hands first.”
“I’m afraid it will.”
Akitada suddenly grinned. “Why are you so worried, Nakatoshi? I’m nobody. If it were not for the fact that I shall be sending this under Soga’s authority, nobody would bother to read it.”
Nakatoshi’s eyes widened. “Surely you won’t sign the minister’s name to it?”
“Of course not. It will bear my name and my seal, but be transmitted through channels under Soga’s cover.”
Now Nakatoshi grinned also. “The minister won’t like that at all.”
“You mean he will demand my resignation?”
They both laughed. Akitada was tired and in pain, but he was also filled with great excitement, suddenly seeing a thousand things he could do, must do, looked forward to doing. He glanced at the stack of papers on his desk-Soga’s desk-almost longingly. But he was too tired tonight and could not concentrate as he should. And revising the memorial would require a clear head. Then there was Tora’s case to look forward to. Or Tomoe’s murder, rather. He thought of the nun. He would find her, but not tonight.
Akitada left the ministry happier than he had felt for a long time and walked into a cheerful gathering at home, where his family was celebrating Tora’s release with a special feast. His swollen eye caused a brief outcry. He had to submit to the application of herbal packs prepared by Seimei and to a scolding from the old man because he had ruined his best robe.
He told them about the mysterious nun and the three thugs and his memorial to the emperor. Then he ate and drank some wine, listening drowsily to Tora’s plans, Yori’s chatter, Seimei’s discussion of herbs to reduce swelling, and wondered only once why Tamako was so quiet.
That night he slept very well.
CHAPTER NINE
When Seimei quietly entered the next morning, he found his master already awake and sitting at his desk, surrounded by books and documents, and making rapid notes by the light of a candle.
“Good morning, Seimei,” Akitada said absently, dipping brush into ink and writing some more. “Is Tora up? I must see him before I leave for the office.”
Seimei set down his oil lamp and came over to peer at Akitada’s face. “Umhum,” he muttered. “That still looks very bad, sir. Is it painful? Can you open the eye at all?”
Akitada paused in his writing. “It hurts and I cannot open it. So what? Life does not come to a halt because of a black eye. There is a great deal of work to be done the next few weeks.”
Seimei frowned. “Perhaps the eye itself is damaged. We should call a physician.”
“Nonsense.” Akitada bent to his task again.
“At least go in a little later this morning and let me apply more compresses.”
“No. Now go get Tora and my morning rice.”
Seimei left, shaking his head.
Akitada was at last filled with excitement and hope. In the past hour or so he had gathered data and quotations from the library of chronicles, law books, and Chinese classics that he and his ancestors before him had collected. The memorial was the most momentous work he had ever been engaged in. In addition, there were several other exciting and important projects in hand and, for once, he had the freedom to engage in them. He hoped fervently that Soga would stay away for a long, long time.
Tora came in, wearing the clothes of a poor day laborer. His shirt and short pants were of cheap cotton, he had tied up his hair in an old rag, and he was barefoot. He was followed by Seimei carrying a tray with a steaming teapot and a bowl of gruel. Seimei cast disapproving glances at Tora’s attire.
Akitada washed out his brush and said briskly, “Sit down, Tora. Seimei, please pour tea for both of us and then you may leave us for a little while.”
Tora grinned. “No tea for me, sir. I had some wine with my morning rice. Wine warms the blood and encourages proper digestion.” He cast a sly look toward Seimei.
“What complete nonsense,” Seimei cried. “As I have told you before, wine overheats the blood and sours the stomach. It is for that very reason that it should be avoided in the morning. Tea has the opposite effect. You will be sorry in another hour when you start belching and getting drowsy.”
“Stop the wrangling,” Akitada interrupted. “There’s work to be done. Tora, I have to be at the ministry this morning, and possibly into the afternoon. You must begin the investigation alone. I suggest you seek out Lieutenant Ihara and discuss what progress he has made. Perhaps you can work together on checking known gangs and their activities.” He saw that Tora looked mulish and asked, “What is wrong?”
“I don’t like Ihara. Besides, I work better alone.”
“Don’t be silly. He may have learned something important in the meantime. And a police officer has certain prerogatives that you don’t have.”
“Not with crooks.”
“You have a point. But at least make sure that you speak to him first. And be pleasant. He could have made your release much more difficult. Why are you wearing those clothes?”
“I thought it might be better if I blended in with the crowd this time.”
“Ah. Quite right. You do look more like those toughs yesterday. But Ihara first.”
Tora sighed. “All right. Anything else?”
“The vendors in the market may know about Tomoe’s regular visitors.”
Tora nodded. “I was going to start there.”
Akitada drummed his fingers on the desk and thought. Should he send Tora back to the street where the nun was attacked? No, better not. Tora had improved past all recognition during his years of service with Akitada, but his manners were not quite up to dealing with the people who lived there. Of course, Professor Takahashi might welcome the very handsome Tora. Foolish thought. Tora definitely could not handle a proposition from Takahashi with diplomacy.
“What’s so funny?”
“After my run-in with the thugs yesterday, I spoke with one of the neighbors-a retired professor who offers private tutoring to handsome boys. I was wondering if you might have better luck with him than I.”
Tora chuckled. “I doubt it, sir. I bet it was only your bruised face that turned him off. In a couple of days, you’ll be as handsome as ever and have him eating out of your hand.” He gave a snort and added in an undertone, “Or whatever.”
Akitada ignored the coarse suggestion and said, “It’s too bad that I’m so busy at the moment. That nun knows something…” He broke off, his mouth open with surprise. “Great heaven! She wasn’t a nun at all.”