“Ouch!” The little old man fell on his behind, then bounced up and retaliated with a well-placed kick to Tora’s groin.
Tora doubled over. “Why, you little bastard,” he said when he came up for breath.
The dwarf hopped around like an excited bird and laughed with an unpleasant cackle. “I have other tricks, if you want to try me, big bastard,” he crowed.
Tora saw the humor in the situation and chuckled. “Sorry, uncle,” he said. “It was dark after the street outside. I meant no harm.”
The ugly little man narrowed his eyes, then nodded. “All right,” he said grudgingly. “I’m the manager. What do you want?”
“One of Uemon’s girls. The one called Gold. I was told she stayed here.”
The dwarf and the grinning boy looked at each other. When the small man turned to Tora, his expression was grim. “Gone!” he said.
“Gone? All of them? So suddenly? Where?”
“How should I know? The handsome one paid and they all walked out. I don’t ask people for their travel plans.”
Tora looked from one to the other. There was a certain wariness in their eyes, as if they were waiting to see how he would take this information. He sighed and pulled out his meager string of coppers, weighing it in his hand. “How much?” he asked the dwarf.
The beady eyes guessed at the number of coins in Tora’s hand. “Twenty,” the dwarf ventured.
It was all Tora had for his midday meal. He counted out twenty coppers and stacked them on the platform. “I need to know when they left, where they went, and if the girl was with them,” he said without removing his hand from the stack.
The dwarf’s eyes lit up. “Sometime yesterday, don’t know, and yes.”
Tora did not take his hand off the money. “What about your young friend there? Does he know anything?”
The boy was still grinning. Shaking his head violently, he made a snorting sound which might have been suppressed laughter or an idiot’s speech defect. After a moment, Tora released the money. The dwarf scooped it up so quickly that his fingers touched Tora’s hand as it withdrew.
Well, at least the girl was fine. Tora nodded to the gamblers and stepped back out into the street. It was well past noon, and his stomach grumbled. He looked unhappily about him. His master would want him to find the actors. Maybe they left for an engagement in the country, but with the end of the year approaching they had to be rehearsing. Probably they had just changed accommodations. Tora did not relish the thought of trudging up and down streets to check every inn or rooming house. He decided to stop by Miss Plumblossom’s. Surely she would know what their plans were. Besides, he needed to talk to that maid if he was going to find the slasher.
As he walked, he thought of a third reason. His hungry imagination conjured up the memory of Miss Plumblossom eating. A woman with such an appetite might offer a leftover morsel to a starving man.
Miss Plumblossom was indeed just finishing her meal. Seated on her thronelike chair, she eyed the tray held by the scarred maid regretfully and dabbed her lips. “Take the rest away, my dear. That was quite delicious, but Mr. Oishi is waiting for his wrestling lesson and too much food makes me sluggish.”
The doorkeeper being absent, Tora had slipped in unnoticed. Mr. Oishi, a very large, blubbery figure already stripped to his loincloth, was waiting anxiously for his lesson, and the maid walked away with the tray.
Seeing his meal disappearing, Tora shouted, “Wait!” Six astonished eyes turned toward him. Then disaster struck. The maid shrieked and dropped the food. Tora cursed, rushed up, and was met by Miss Plumblossom’s heel placed squarely and violently in his groin, which was still sore from the kick by the dwarf. Miss Plumblossom packed quite a different force from the tiny old man. Tora shrieked and fell backward, writhing with pain. Almost instantly a crushing weight landed on his body, choking off his second scream. He mercifully lost consciousness.
Akitada was in Kobe’s office reporting Nagaoka’s disappearance when a sergeant walked in to announce that the “slasher” had been captured.
Kobe rose excitedly. “Well, I hope it’s good news this time!” he cried. “We’ve tried to catch that monster for months now.”
Akitada was not pleased by the interruption but asked politely, “A dangerous criminal?”
“So far he’s only preyed on prostitutes and loose women in the quarter of the untouchables, but you never know. Six dead that we know of.” He turned to the sergeant, who stood waiting. “How did you catch him? In the act, I hope?”
The sergeant looked embarrassed. “Er, sort of,” he mumbled. “Actually…”
“What? Speak up, man! It could mean special recognition for one of our guys.”
“Er,” stammered the sergeant, “it wasn’t one of our men that caught him, sir. It was a female.”
Kobe stared. “A female? You mean one of the whores fought back? Good for her!”
“Not really, sir. It was Miss Plumblossom.”
“The idiot attacked Miss Plumblossom?”
Akitada chuckled. Kobe looked at him suspiciously. “You know her?”
“Only from what my men told me. If it is the same woman, she is a character, a former acrobat who runs a training hall.”
Kobe nodded glumly. “The same. Not the easiest person in the world to deal with. She’s forever complaining about us. Well, I suppose I had better face the dragon. Do you want to come?”
Akitada hesitated. “Can we discuss the Nagaoka case on the way?”
“Nothing to discuss, but if you must.”
Akitada bit his lip. “In that case, I will come. If Kojiro does not know where his brother has gone, there may be trouble.”
“The man’s not accountable to his brother. Besides, I warned him away.”
They walked out of the administrative hall of the prison and crossed the courtyard, where a contingent of constables was practicing with weighted steel chains and jitte, iron prongs designed to deflect swords.
“Nagaoka has been gone too long,” Akitada urged. “And he carried money.”
Kobe considered it. “I suppose Nagaoka could be behind the murder. If so, he has by now disappeared into the mountains.”
“Will you let me help you find him?”
Kobe stopped and looked at Akitada. “Where would you go? What do you know?”
“Nothing I have not told you. But there are obvious places to ask questions. The servant said he was dressed for a journey. Boots, quilted robe, a bag, and possibly a short sword.”
“Let me think about it.”
They resumed their rapid pace and were approaching the eastern market. In spite of the cold weather, crowds of shoppers were coming and going, casting curious or nervous glances at the red-coated police constables who were preceding the two officials.
“A sword, eh?” Kobe pondered. “He didn’t strike me as the type.”
“If he carried all the money he got from selling his possessions, he would take a weapon. The roads are not safe.”
“No. But where would you look?”
“His brother’s farm is an hour’s ride from the capital. So is the home of his late wife.”
“Hmm. I don’t see the point of going there.” Kobe turned to his sergeant to discuss the case of the slasher and ignored Akitada until they arrived at Miss Plumblossom’s establishment.
Inside, Akitada looked around curiously. The place reminded him of another training hall, in faraway Kazusa province, though this one was far larger and better equipped. But the memory brought sadness and he put it from his mind. The proprietress awaited them seated in a chair on the dais at the end of the hall, in the company of a very fat young man and a young woman who hid behind a fan.