She looked at him with an expression that was part irritation and part curiosity. He wondered if she would turn away a nobleman simply because he was wet and his visit was inconvenient. Before he could speak, she said, “What gives me the pleasure, sir?” and made him a slight bow.
Well, she had some manners in any case. Still, if Saburo’s tale had been accurate, she was the mistress of a notorious gangster, had witnessed a murder, and had used her knowledge to extort this house and payment of her debts from the murderer. The little girl’s readiness to admit him also suggested that she was not faithful to Kanemoto.
He said, “You are the courtesan Chiyo, known as the Phoenix?”
She smiled. “I am a private person now.”
“I believe you know a man called Kanemoto. Is he here?”
The smile disappeared. “Nobody is here but a few women.” She gestured at her scattered belongings. “We have just arrived. I think you must have come to the wrong house.”
Akitada realized he was too tired to think straight. “Do you mind if I rest for a moment?”
At her gesture, one of the maids brought him a silk cushion. She said, “Please rest, sir. Perhaps a cup of wine?” Without waiting for his answer, she clapped her hands. “Quick, Kimi and Keiko. Wine and snacks.” The maids left, and Akitada sank down on the cushion with a slight groan. She came to kneel across from him.
“You are exhausted, sir. You are not ill, I hope?” she said, eyeing him searchingly from rather fine eyes.
“No, not ill. Just tired. Thank you. I shall be all right in a moment. Perhaps water would be better than wine.” He had had too much wine already.
She rose smoothly and went to fetch it. He sat, and rested, emptying his mind. Somewhere a gate closed, and Akitada fell into a brief doze.
A moment later, he awoke. The Phoenix was back, pouring him a cup of water from a pitcher as one of the maids set out a tray with small rice cakes, nuts, and a flask of wine.
He drank thirstily and held out the cup for more water. She refilled it. Slowly, he came to his senses again. It was most pleasant, sitting here in a warm, dry house surrounded by young women. A delightful scent emanated from Phoenix, who had moved a little closer. The maids returned to their unpacking.
“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to focus on his hostess. “You are very kind.”
This was not what he should be saying to this woman.
She bowed a little. “Not at all, sir. It gives me great pleasure to do this. Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, I was just tired and thirsty,” Akitada said, pleased at such solicitude. It felt good to rest and now that he had found her there was no hurry. But it would not be easy to get this woman to come with him and tell her story to the police. He wished he had money to offer her.
No, he could not pay for her testimony. It would be tainted. For that matter, somebody might already suspect that she had been paid to accuse Kanemoto. He tried to ponder this difficulty while she made light conversation and he gave casual answers. To his surprise, he found he was sipping wine and enjoying the warmth suffusing his belly. With a great effort, he pulled himself together.
“I came to ask you for your help,” he said.
“But of course, sir. I’ll do my best.”
“It involves telling the police about Kanemoto.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. Who is this Kanemoto?”
Akitada was frustrated. She had decided to play the innocent. “There are witnesses who say you are Kanemoto’s mistress. One witness knows you were with Kanemoto in his house when Kanemoto strangled a man.”
She pretended to be shocked. “What a dreadful story! Please don’t frighten me like this.”
Akitada’s head felt fuzzy. He gestured at their surroundings. “Don’t lie. Kanemoto gave you this house and paid your debts to keep you quiet. I’m afraid it won’t do. I will not have a man who works for me saddled with a gangster’s crime.”
Outside a gate slammed again, and suddenly he was alert, recalling the sound from earlier. Someone had left then and was now returning. Who? And why?
The answer came immediately: she had sent one of her maids for Kanemoto. He must get out. Rising to his feet, he looked around. “Where’s the privy?”
She looked up at him. “Wait a moment and I’ll show you the way.”
He heard footsteps approaching, heavy ones. Not one of the maids, but a man, no, several men. Akitada turned, and Phoenix snatched at his robe to stop him. He tore himself free and ran to the green shades. Pushing them aside, he flung back a shutter. Outside lay a dark garden, no more than black silhouettes of trees and shrubs beyond a veranda railing. Behind him he heard male shouts and the woman’s voice. He vaulted over the railing, surprising himself and landing in a small shrub of some kind. Without regard for his robe, he pulled free to the sound of tearing silk and ran to the far end of the garden. He hoped to find a gate to a back alley there.
By now he could hear his pursuers thrashing about the shrubbery, as he moved desperately along a tall fence looking for a way out.
When he found the gate, they found him, too. There were three of them, big black shadows against the stormy night sky and the light from the distant house. They grabbed him, and he felt a searing pain in his upper back and another a little lower, His knees buckled. They let him drop.
“Got him!” shouted a man’s voice.
From the distance another man asked, “Dead?”
Rough hands turned Akitada over. He was limp.
“Yup!” shouted the first voice.
“Fine.” The second voice was closer now. “Get rid of the body. Leave him behind one of the other houses. Be careful and come back quick.”
They grabbed Akitada’s feet and pulled him away, out through the gate and along a dirt road. He might have been glad that he was not face down, but by then he had trouble breathing and tasted blood on his tongue. They had stabbed him in the back. Twice. And now he would die in an alley somewhere behind a whore’s house.
27
Rising Mist
Tora woke when the guard unlocked the cell door and admitted Superintendent Kobe.
Kobe ducked in, nodded to Tora, and told the guard, “Get the chains off him.”
Tora stood, and when the chains fell off, he rubbed his wrists, and smiled. “So, what happened, sir?” he asked. “You’re letting us go? Did you arrest Kanemoto?”
Kobe, looking gray and tired, shook his head. “No such luck. Saburo stays, but you can go since you weren’t there when the murder happened and only came in the morning to look for Saburo. The neighbor saw you.”
Tora’s face fell. “Oh! You mean this wasn’t my master’s doing? What about the blind girl?”
“Nothing has changed. She’s still going to trial.”
Tora rubbed the sleep from his face and brushed his hair out of eyes. Kobe was headed away down the jail’s corridor. Hurrying to catch up, Tora asked, “How can you let this happen, sir? She’s an innocent woman who will die for this while the real killer gets away with it.”
Kobe turned an angry face to him. “That’s why I’m setting you free in the middle of the night. It gives you a few hours to find the killer or a witness who can clear the blind girl.”
Tora stopped in disbelief. It must be near morning. Was he to perform miracles? Kobe walked away. After a moment, Tora shook his head. He could not do this alone. He must speak to Akitada, see if he had found a clue. Then perhaps they could work together.
He walked home through the faint drizzle as fast as he could. It was not only pitch dark, but a slight fog hung in the night air. The Sugawara house was silent and remote when he reached it.
Genba, half asleep, admitted him, after he had pounded on the gate for a while.
“Tora? What happened?”