The Dragon Scroll (9 page)

“Very well,” said Akitada. “Call Akinobu.”

When the governor’s secretary came in and bowed, Akitada told him brusquely, “We have finished with the provincial documents and are ready to begin work on the governor’s personal accounts. Please bring them to us here.”

Akinobu paled. He stared at Akitada, then at Seimei, gulped, and said in a choking voice, “I shall relay your wishes to the governor, Excellency.”

Akitada looked after Akinobu and said to Seimei, “That was probably the most embarrassing thing I have ever had to do. Did you see the man’s face? He was shocked to the core.”

Seimei looked unhappy. “Akinobu is a very loyal servant and a learned man. I cannot believe that he would willingly serve a dishonest master.”

Akitada said nothing.

The secretary returned quickly. Placing two large document boxes before Akitada with a bow, he said, “My master wishes to express his gratitude for your trouble.” He paused, then continued without looking at Akitada, “I also am deeply obliged that you take such care to protect the governor, and myself as his servant, from suspicion. Please tell me how I may be of assistance.”

“Thank you,” said Akitada. “We will call if we have questions.”

When Akinobu was gone, Seimei and his master looked at each other.

“That was very generous of the governor,” said Seimei.

Akitada sighed. “I am afraid that it means there is nothing to be found, Seimei.”

He was right. In spite of a most thorough analysis of the holdings, incomes, and expenditures of Motosuke and his immediate family, they found nothing. The accounts were blameless and in perfect order. Not only had Motosuke not spent provincial funds for private use, he had drawn heavily on his private purse to improve the provincial headquarters and the governor’s residence.

“Well,” said Seimei, “at least you can return to the capital without having arrested your friend Kosehira’s cousin for fraud and treason.”

Akitada clenched his fists. “I have the feeling Motosuke is laughing at us. He knew all along we would not find anything. Any other man in his position would have been outraged when I demanded his private papers. I think the goods and the gold are hidden somewhere, and there is an accomplice. I’m convinced of it. Motosuke is too good to be true.”

“Let it go, sir,” Seimei pleaded. “It is hopeless. You can only hurt yourself and you may hurt an innocent man.”

“Remember the bribe!”

“If a man is truly guilty, his actions will return to him.”

Akitada shook his head and gave Seimei a crooked smile.

“You have a saying for everything, but I still have to find the missing taxes.”

“What about the local gentry? Owners of large estates keep small private armies to protect their holdings. Sometimes they turn to highway robbery or piracy.”

Akitada nodded and sent the servant for Akinobu.

“We have finished with these also,” he informed the secretary, pointing to the document boxes. “Perhaps you may know of landowners with large estates. Are they at all likely to keep armed retainers?”

Akinobu did not have to think at all. “We have only five families of the sort you mean, Excellency,” he said. “They are all absolutely loyal. The governor visited them personally after the first tax convoy disappeared to assure himself of their innocence. Four of them had sent their retainers to Hitachi province to quell a rebellion, and on the fifth estate, smallpox had broken out. Many people died, and so did the lord and his only son. His widow became a nun, and the estate went to a cousin.”

Apparently everyone had a blameless reputation in Kazusa province. “Tell me,” Akitada demanded, “what
you
think. Someone here is hiding an enormous amount of gold and valuable goods. Or do you also blame it on anonymous robbers in another province?”

Akinobu flushed. “No, Excellency,” he said miserably. “I think we overlooked something. The governor is really very distraught and hopes that you will succeed where we have failed.” Seeing Akitada’s disbelief, he knelt and said in a choking voice, “It has been a great shame to me that anyone should distrust my master, for it is I who bear the blame for not getting to the bottom of this. I am aware of my worthlessness and culpability, and shall so inform the authorities. Of course, my poor property will not make up the great sum, but I have begun to sell off my land, and by the time Your Excellency formally closes the case, I shall place all I own into your hands.” Before the surprised Akitada could find his tongue, he bowed, rose, and left the room.

“After him, Seimei,” cried Akitada. “Tell him to stop selling his land. Tell him we’ll try to find the culprit. Tell him ... Well, you’ll think of something.”

♦

The week after he finished inspecting the provincial accounts, Akitada paid visits to the lesser officials in the city. He went first to Captain Yukinari, the new commandant of the garrison. The young officer impressed him favorably. Yukinari quickly produced pertinent military records proving that all three shipments had left the province at the usual time of year and under guard. Yukinari’s predecessor had committed suicide after the second incident, and Yukinari had been sent as his replacement during the past summer. This fact and his subsequent efforts to clear up the mystery eliminated him as a suspect.

Akitada’s next quarry was the county prefect Ikeda, an appointed official who reported directly to Motosuke but who controlled his own staff and the constabulary of the provincial capital. Ikeda was a middle-aged man of nervous disposition with a habit of quoting statutes and regulations to support his every action. He denied any knowledge of the tax matter vehemently: it was not within his sphere of authority. He also protested against any suggestion of criminal elements at work within the city or in the surrounding prefecture. When pressed for suggestions on how the shipments might have disappeared, he mentioned highway robbers in the neighboring province of Shimosa. Akitada formed an image of the typical bureaucrat, lacking both the courage and the imagination to plan and carry out a crime of such magnitude.

By week’s end, Akitada and Seimei glumly reviewed the facts.

“The convoys could have been attacked in Shimosa, sir,” Seimei offered when told of Ikeda’s views. “That would explain why there was no news of them all the way from the capital to Sagami province. It also would solve all our problems and clear the governor.”

“Which is what everyone wants,” growled Akitada. “The garrison commander, who is no fool, went himself to search the route through Shimosa without finding a trace of goods or robbers. Yukinari is young but efficient and thorough and, of all the local officials, the only one who could not have been involved. He has no motive to cover up anything and is stumped. Goods, horses, grooms, bearers, and military guard all disappeared from the face of the earth without leaving so much as a boot or horseshoe behind.” He shook his head. “Since this is patently unbelievable, we must assume there is a conspiracy, and here in this very city. Whoever is behind it is very clever, well informed about dates and details, and has a large organization at his disposal.”

“The governor,” muttered Seimei.

There was a polite cough at the door and Akinobu bowed his way in. He presented some letters to Akitada, explaining that another government courier had arrived from Heian Kyo, then bowed again and left.

Akitada scanned the two letters from home quickly but exclaimed in surprise at the third.

“What is it?” asked Seimei.

“A supper invitation from the governor for tonight. The abbot of that large Buddhist temple stopped in for a visit, and Motosuke wants to introduce me. He is also inviting the former governor.” Akitada checked the letter. “A Lord Tachibana. Nobody mentioned him to us. He seems to have stayed on here after his retirement. Curious, that. Yukinari and Prefect Ikeda will also attend.” Akitada jumped up. He waved the governor’s letter about excitedly. “This is fortuitous, indeed. Just think, Seimei, each of these men is in a unique position of control in local affairs. One of them may be our man, and I shall observe them all together. I am a good judge of people, I think.”

“I hope you won’t be disappointed,” Seimei remarked sourly. “It is said that he who hunts two hares leaves one and loses the other.”

“Thank you for your confidence,” snapped Akitada. “Now get my court robe out. Whatever your opinion may be, I shall eventually discover who is behind the crimes. Once we have an idea of the guilty person, all we have to do is find witnesses.”

Seimei looked dubious but helped Akitada dress. As he handed him his court hat, he asked, “Was there any news from home, sir?”

Akitada said, “Oh! Not much. Kosehira writes, hoping that I am making good progress. And there is also a letter from my younger sister. Everyone is well. The girls are full of the news that the emperor’s favorite consort has eloped with a lover. I remember there was gossip that Lady Asagao had disappeared. It seems Lord Nakamura left Heian Kyo at just about that time to return to his home province, and so suspicion has fallen on him.”

Seimei sighed and said, “You see? Even His August Majesty is not exempt from misfortune. Truly, when the moon is full, it begins to wane. Anything more from your lady mother?”

“No. Just more of the same: she expects me to remember my duty to the family.”

♦

The supper party took place in the governor’s private residence, in a small room decorated with elegant landscape paintings. Under carved and painted rafters a dais had been covered with thick mats trimmed in black and white silk and screened off from drafts by brocaded reed blinds on lacquered stands. Five men sat there in the light of tall candelabra, talking animatedly and sipping wine.

An abrupt silence fell when Akitada approached.

Motosuke, in a pale red brocade robe over underrobes in many shades from copper to peach, rose with a broad smile. He led Akitada to the seat of honor on his right and introduced his guests.

“This is His Excellency, the previous governor, Tachibana Masaie,” he said, indicating a gaunt old man. Tachibana, who was seated across from Akitada, had a thin white beard and tired eyes.

Akitada bowed and said, “I am deeply sorry that I was not aware of Your Excellency’s presence here or I would have paid my respects before now.”

The old gentleman returned the bow, smiled vaguely, but did not speak.

“This province is honored by His Excellency’s decision to remain after his term expired,” Motosuke said nervously. “He is a great scholar and engaged in writing the local history.”

“I shall look forward to being instructed by Your Excellency,” Akitada murmured, thinking what a fine cover such an existence would be for a remunerative criminal organization.

Tachibana smiled again without replying. His gnarled fingers absently traced the shell design on his deep blue robe.

“And this is His Reverence, Master Joto, the abbot of our great Temple of Fourfold Wisdom,” Motosuke continued, clearly uncomfortable at the ex-governor’s apparent lack of interest in the imperial inspector in their midst.

The abbot had been given the other seat of honor, to his host’s left. Joto was young for such an eminent position—somewhere in his late thirties. The idea that he might be a younger son of one of the great families crossed Akitada’s mind. Another Fujiwara, perhaps? More possibilities of conspiracies. Since the religious life required cutting family ties and bestowed new names on its members, it would be difficult to find out. Akitada did not like the Buddhist clergy at the best of times and noted cynically that this man, like his rowdy disciples in town, looked strong and well fed. No ascetic life for him! The shaven head and smooth face showed the purple shadow of heavy hair growth, and the full, almost feminine lips were red and moist. His clerical garb also was of the finest materials, a richly embroidered stole draped over a white silk robe with broad black borders. On one wrist he wore prayer beads of pink crystal.

Raising his eyes from the abbot’s finery to his face, Akitada met large, hooded eyes that regarded him fixedly. To cover his embarrassment, he said quickly, “Your Reverence’s learning has attracted an impressive following in Kazusa. I am indeed fortunate to make the acquaintance of such an inspired teacher of the Buddha’s word.”