The Convict's Sword (12 page)

For a moment, the room lost its stability. The floor under Akitada’s feet behaved as in an earthquake, and the walls faded in and out before his eyes. There was a ringing in his ears, and when he tried to speak, he had lost his voice. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and tried to fix his eyes on Soga. “Under the circumstance,” he said in a shaking voice, “I shall, of course, resign.”

Soga rose. Something like triumph flashed in his eyes. “You may prepare a letter of resignation and leave it on my desk. I shall sign it upon my return. For the time being you will remain in your position and carry out your duties as ordered. If all goes well I shall not count the latest demerits against you. As you know, the annual fitness reports are due in another month, and yours is already sadly deficient. A charge of flagrant dereliction of duty would cost you the chance at another position.”

“When will you return?”

“You will be kept informed.” Soga glanced at his desk. “Take care of the correspondence, but pass on all private letters. And remember what I said.” With that final threat, he walked past Akitada and out the door.

Akitada stood lost in a tumult of emotions until Nakatoshi’s touch on his arm brought him back to reality.

“Can I bring you some wine, sir?” Nakatoshi asked anxiously.

“No.” Akitada ran a hand over his face as if brushing away cobwebs and took a deep breath. “Yes, perhaps. Thank you.” A cup of wine would put some warmth into his body, would thaw out the icy fury that seemed to paralyze his muscles and his brain. He walked stiffly around Soga’s desk and sat down. Outside, thunder growled again, and the pines in the courtyard tossed in the wind. A gust of air stirred the papers on the desk. He got up to close the shutters and lit the tall candlesticks.

The correspondence. He looked through it. Apparently Soga had already removed anything he considered too important for Akitada’s eyes. The rest was routine. When Nakatoshi returned with the warm wine, Akitada gulped it thirstily, then told him to take dictation. For the next hour, Akitada dealt with the business of the ministry.

“Is anyone waiting outside?” he asked, when the paperwork was done.

“Nobody important. It’s time for the midday rice.”

Akitada glanced at the closed shutters. He was not hungry. The sound of rain had been with them for a while now without his having noticed. And he had forgotten Tora. “One more letter,” he said. “It must be delivered immediately. Then I shall see the petitioners.”

The letter was addressed to Kobe, superintendent of the capital police. He hated to ask the man for this favor, but his concern for Tora was too great. Besides, a request to transfer Tora from the Western to the Eastern Prison was not unreasonable since Tora resided in the eastern half of the capital. The problem was that Kobe would assume other concessions would be expected later.

Then he had Nakatoshi show in the people who had waited patiently outside (some of them, as it turned out, for many months) to lay a problem before the minister of justice. He discovered that several had come bearing gifts, which he refused. The ones who had waited for months appeared too poor to curry the minister’s favor in this way. This was not surprising. Akitada had always known that Soga enriched himself in his office. Indeed, most officials considered it a perquisite of their posts. Also, not surprisingly, the ones with gifts rarely deserved consideration, while the poor fellows who had lingered for months in the waiting area seemed to have legitimate cause for review. With a sigh, Akitada took down their information and sent them away until their cases could be studied. The others he dismissed brusquely. Still, hours passed in this manner until it became difficult to read the documents, because darkness was creeping from the corners of the room.

Impatiently, Akitada called for more lights. Nakatoshi came and threw open the shutters. The rain had stopped and it was clear again, but the sun had set and left behind a steamy dusk. Only now did Akitada become aware of the stiffness in his back and neck. He also realized that it was late and that he had done nothing about Tora.

“How many more?” he asked Nakatoshi.

“None, sir. And Sakae asks if he can leave.”

“Dear heaven, I forgot all about him.” Akitada rose, stretching his painful legs and back. “Don’t tell me there is always this much business,” he said with a grimace.

Nakatoshi grinned. “No, sir. A lot of stuff accumulated in His Excellency’s absence. Besides, he doesn’t see very many of the petitioners.”

“I gathered that. There was one old man who had been here every day for the past three months.”

“That would be Mr. Chikamura? The one who claims that his property has been taken by his nephew?”

“His home actually. I cannot imagine where he lays his head. He seems afraid for his life if he sets foot in his own house. I told him we would look into the matter. Have one of the scribes check the property deeds and then send someone from the police to his home to see what is going on.”

Akitada walked across to his own office, where he found Sakae pacing the floor impatiently. He said, “Sorry, Sakae, but there was a great deal of work. How did you manage?”

Sakae pointed to a stack of documents. “All finished, sir. And here’s the report for the minister. We’ve already signed.”

This was so unlike the Sakae he knew that Akitada looked quickly through the papers. Not only did they seem in order, but Sakae’s handwriting had improved materially. Light dawned belatedly. “I see you called on one of the scribes to assist you.”

Sakae drew himself up. “Under the circumstances I thought it proper, sir.”

“Yes. Quite. Very good.” Akitada signed the report. “I shall see you tomorrow then?”

Sakae bowed and departed. Akitada was still looking after him, wondering what had come over his clerk, when Nakatoshi joined him.

“Sakae is a changed man,” Nakatoshi said, making a face.

“I wonder why.”

“Isn’t it obvious, sir? Sakae wants your place when you’re gone.”

Akitada turned, aghast. “My place?” Then he remembered that he had offered Soga his resignation and that it had been accepted. He felt the crushing weight of worry about the future. Then shame returned. How had the clerks found out?

Nakatoshi looked embarrassed. “Before you came, the minister was speaking rather rashly about changes he intended to make. He also complimented Sakae on his fine work reorganizing the filing system. I’m afraid Sakae took this to mean . . .”

“I see.”

So that was why everyone had been all ears when he had arrived this morning. The humiliation of having been dismissed in such a public, and no doubt insulting, fashion made his face burn. He turned away abruptly, saying, “Until tomorrow then,” and walked out.

CHAPTER SIX

KOBE

 

 

 

At the door, Akitada met a familiar figure just coming in: a tall, middle-aged official who had a neatly trimmed beard and wore a formal silk robe and court hat.

“Sugawara,” he cried, his face breaking into a big smile. “Here I am. Don’t look so glum! All will be well.”

“Kobe,” said Akitada weakly, coming to a stop. Little did the man know that nothing was well, or would be in the end. Still, he was touched that Kobe had come in person and seemed in a friendly mood. Becoming aware that his greeting was lacking in welcome, he bowed quickly and returned the smile. “I was coming to see you. I hope you didn’t take my request amiss?”

“Of course not! What are friends for?”

Akitada regarded him uncertainly. “That is very good of you. I didn’t want to trouble you, but since you know both Tora and me, I thought you might be willing to help. It’s a cursed affair, and Tora was flogged before I could get to him. I was afraid using my influence would do nothing but make matters worse.”

Kobe laughed—a nice, relaxed laughter. “Come, come! Why act the stranger when I expected to see an old friend? Of course I know Tora couldn’t have done such a thing. It’s all a mistake, though I expect Tora was meddling again. Sorry to hear about the flogging, but he was cheerful enough when I talked to him.”

“You have been to see him? That was very kind of you.”

“Not at all. Prisoners come to me, not I to them. I ordered his transfer. It took a while. Confounded paperwork. But you know how it is.”

“Yes. I’ve been tied up all day myself. Thank you.”

“If you’re free now, shall we pay him a visit?”

Akitada hesitated. Kobe’s open support might give his enemies an opportunity to charge him with favoritism. He said, “I don’t like to impose further on your goodness.”

“You’re not. I like Tora. Come, you can tell me what you think about the case on the way.”

Akitada still hung back. “What if . . . certain people use this kindness to make trouble for you?”

Kobe raised a brow. “Ah, so you’ve heard the rumors. Never mind that. And you, of all people, warning me about getting into trouble?”

That made Akitada smile. “Who better?”

“Nonsense. If you can break a few rules, so can I. We’ve been in the business of catching villains long enough to know that one has to use one’s own judgment sometimes. I’m just doing my job. Besides, I’m interested.”

Akitada gave up. They crossed the Greater Palace grounds together. The rain had cooled the air a little after the oppressive heat of the previous week, and there was still enough light to see by. The moist air intensified the scent of honeysuckle drifting over the wall of one of the ministries, and at the Shingon Temple, young monks laughed as they swept the water with brooms from the steps of the gate.

Suddenly Tora’s situation did not seem so bleak anymore. Akitada thought of what Kobe had said and snorted.

Kobe threw him a glance. “Something funny?”

“In a way. It seems that I’ve finally broken the rules once too often. Today Soga forced me to resign and then had the gall to announce that he expected me to cover for him for an unspecified period of time. I’m to run the ministry until his return. I’ve been promoted and dismissed in the same breath.”

“You’re joking!”

“Not at all. And I’ve never worked as hard or as cheerfully. Of course, my situation is not really amusing, but sometimes it’s easier to laugh at your troubles.”

“But what will you do?”

“I don’t know. At the moment Tora’s problem is more important.” He told Kobe what he had learned, and they became involved in the discussion of Tora’s case. Akitada barely noticed the archivist Kunyoshi waving from the other side of street. He waved back.

Clouds of small gnats hovered in their path. Officials and clerks, on their way home from ministries or the imperial residence, tottered along on tall wooden
geta,
skirting puddles and holding up their fine silk trousers.

As they passed the main gate of the imperial residence, its thatched roofs sodden black from the rain, Kobe nodded to one of the guards, the son of a powerful family. Kobe had truly risen in the world, and Akitada felt a little less guilty about accepting his assistance.

After leaving the Greater Palace, they turned northeast. In this part of the city were public buildings and the palaces and mansions of court nobles. The Sugawaras, though sadly come down in the world, had lived here since the capital had been built.

When they saw the bleak walls and gate of the Eastern Prison ahead, Kobe said, “A fascinating case. I shall look forward to your solution.”

“It’s difficult to think of it as a mental exercise when it may mean a friend’s life.”

“Come, come,” said Kobe bracingly. “We’ve worked ourselves out of muddles before, you and I. Don’t be so downcast. We’ll have Tora free in no time.”

Kobe’s kindness was touching, but Akitada remained uneasy. They had never quite seen eye to eye in the past, and while he knew Kobe to be scrupulously honest and in his own way as dedicated to justice as he was, the superintendent could become very stubborn when they disagreed. Besides, there was the threat to Kobe’s career. Few enough officials were both able and incorruptible. He hoped that Tora could be cleared quickly before someone took notice.

The conditions of Tora’s imprisonment had improved dramatically. They found him sitting cross-legged on a clean straw mat, gobbling food from a heaping bowl and looking a great deal more cheerful than that morning. On a gesture from Kobe, the guard left.

Tora greeted Akitada with a wide grin, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and put aside the bowl. He bowed to both of his visitors, then said to Akitada, “Thank you, sir. This is a great deal better, and the food isn’t half bad either. But, as I told the superintendent, I need to get busy solving the murder. Have you had any news?”

Tora’s meal reminded Akitada that he had not eaten since the night before. No wonder he felt light-headed. He said, “No news at all, I’m afraid. Soga has taken it into his head to leave the city for a while and I was trying to catch up on the work he left behind. I’m on my way home now for my evening rice. After that I’ll think about what is to be done next.”