Rashomon Gate (11 page)

"Not long ago," he said, straightening up, and scanning the surroundings. The reeds around the body were only trampled where he and Tora had walked. "I wonder what she was doing in the park when it is closed."

"That killer may still be around," said Tora. "Shall I go have a look?"

"Yes, but don't go far."

Frowning, Akitada looked at the girl's body, then bent down to turn her fully on her back. As she rolled, her blue gown parted, revealing a dingy white cotton under-robe. He stood up again and began searching the ground between the body and the foot path, but found nothing. Returning to her, he squatted down again and gently lifted her chin. Deep red and purple streaks marked the white skin of her neck.

"Not a soul in sight," said Tora behind him, pushing through the reeds. He saw the body with its disordered clothes and cursed. "So he raped her first."

"I don't think so," said Akitada. "Her clothes are clean enough and uncreased. If she had been raped, she would surely have struggled."

"But her sash is undone! No respectable female walks around with her gown hanging open like that. If she wasn't raped, she was cooperating. And why would the guy choke her to death if she was willing?"

"A puzzle. Take a look at her neck! When a man strangles someone with his bare hands, he leaves finger marks. I read once that these can be measured and compared to the suspect's hands. But this woman was not strangled by hand; she was choked to death with a piece of fabric, possibly her missing sash. Did you see anything like it on your search?"

Tora shook his head. "A sash? No. You want me to look again?"

"No. The light is getting poor and the place is too large. I must go report the murder to the local warden. You stay here!"

At the gate, Akitada found the guard stretched out across the path, dozing. "Get up," he snapped, bringing the man stuttering to his feet. "There's been a murder committed within the past hour. Who has entered or left the park during that time?"

The man gaped and protested volubly that nobody, apart from Akitada and Tora, had been admitted or departed while he was on duty. "All the gates were closed two hours ago. Only authorized personnel are admitted, and only through this gate, sir," he cried. "You saw yourself that I stopped you and your man."

Akitada raised his eyebrows. "You did not seem to be very alert just now," he pointed out. "Are you certain there were no other visitors?"

"Yes, sir! And I was just sitting down for a minute. You may be sure I keep my eyes open at all times. This time of year the park is full of all sorts of riffraff."

"Then you did not see a young woman in a blue cotton gown going in? Medium height, about eighteen or nineteen, and pretty?"

The guard's eyes grew round. "Was it her that's been killed? Amida! I know the one you mean. She's a regular almost. Comes here quite often. Always comes alone and leaves alone." He placed a dirty finger on his nose and winked. " 'Course that's not to say she spends her time alone once she gets here, eh? The young gentlemen from the university must have their fun! Hah, hah! Live and let live, I always say."

Akitada said coldly, "Not in this case. So you did admit her even though the park is supposed to be closed."

"Oh, no, sir! I didn't see her today. She must've gone in before I went on duty."

"Very well. Keep your eyes open and detain anyone who tries to leave. The murderer may still be inside. I am going to see the warden now."

The left division of the city administration,
Sakyo Shiki
, was in the block just south of the university. It also housed the office of the warden for this quarter. Akitada reported to a businesslike elderly man who immediately dispatched a runner to police headquarters, then sent a contingent of constables to the park before taking down Akitada's statement. This took some time, and when Akitada finally returned to the park gate, a group of red-coated police were just entering at a trot. He walked in after them with a nod to the gate guard, but suddenly there was a peremptory "Halt!" behind him.

He turned. A tall, middle-aged officer in the uniform of a police captain, red robe, bow and quiver of arrows, was striding purposefully towards him. The handsome bearded face was scowling. "What are you doing here?" he snapped. "This park is closed. Identify yourself and explain your business!"

Akitada obeyed meekly. The other man's glance sharpened, but he did not relent. "So!" he said curtly. "I'm Kobe. Captain of police. Show me the body!"

Akitada led the way. They found Tora and the policemen arguing. Kobe barked an order, and his men retreated. Tora joined Akitada as they watched Kobe making a preliminary examination of the site and the body. When the captain was done, he walked over to his men, gave some orders, and they dispersed. Then he came back to Akitada and said, "Strangled, and not long ago. Two hours, perhaps less." Again his sharp eyes studied Akitada, who nodded. "I am having the park combed for the killer. You must have found her shortly after it happened. Did you move the body?"

Akitada explained and, with Tora's assistance, demonstrated the girl's original position. "She looked as if she had been flung into the reeds," he said.

Kobe looked at the body, the trampled reeds and torn shrubbery and said sourly, "Too bad people feel the need to meddle. No telling how much evidence has been destroyed." After a moment's awkward silence, he added grudgingly, "But I suppose you didn't do too much harm. She's a commoner, but not a street girl, I think. About six or seven months pregnant."

"What?" Akitada flushed with embarrassment at his oversight. "I am afraid I do not have much experience in such matters," he mumbled, reddening even more at the admission. "She looked merely heavy to me."

The other man sighed. "Never mind," he said. "At your age I didn't know any better myself. You're not a married man, I take it?"

Akitada shook his head. "Not yet."

Kobe's lips twitched. Then he said, "Well, the coroner has to confirm it. Her sash is gone. I don't suppose you've seen it?"

"No. We looked in the immediate vicinity. It is probably red brocade, a particularly fine grade."

At this Kobe's eyebrows shot up, and Akitada elaborated. "I recognized her. She is a young woman I saw briefly about a week ago. At that time she was wearing the same sort of clothing, and I noticed the unusually expensive sash, because it did not match the rest of her clothes. I am afraid I do not know her name."

"Where did you see her? What was she doing?"

"She was leaving the music building of the university after a lute lesson."

"Lute lessons? From a music professor? A common girl like her?"

Not liking the captain's tone somehow, Akitada said stiffly, "Nevertheless, that is how I came to see her."

"What is this professor's name and where does he live?"

This would hardly endear him to Sato, Akitada thought. For a moment he was tempted to distract Kobe from the music professor by telling him what the gate guard had said about the girl, but he decided against it. A man as efficient as this one would naturally interrogate the guard. "His name is Sato," he said. "I do not know his address."

"Hmm." Kobe thought for a moment, looking at the body of the girl again. "It gives us a place to start. I don't suppose any of the faculty are still about at this hour?"

"I doubt it."

"Sir?" Tora was becoming restive. He pulled Akitada's sleeve, whispering, "It's getting very late. The Hiratas are waiting."

Akitada recalled himself to his own problems. "Yes, of course, Tora. I forgot." Turning to the captain, he said, "If you don't need us any further tonight, I am late for an important appointment."

Kobe looked Tora up and down and asked, "Tora? Are you the one your master picked up on the highway after someone tried to rob him?"

Tora grinned. "The very same, sir," he said proudly.

Akitada stared at Kobe in speechless surprise. "How could you know about that?" he asked.

Kobe's eyes twinkled suddenly. He clearly enjoyed the effect he had created. "Oh," he said, "in my business it's a good idea to keep my ears open. In fact, the only reason I didn't arrest you two on the spot was that I recognized your name. There was a lot of talk in this city about the way you handled those renegade monks." The corner of his mouth twitched again and he almost smiled. "But don't let me keep you. I shall know how to find you if I have further questions."

"Oh," stammered Akitada, "I see. Yes. Thank you."

They hurried away. Near the gate they ran into a group of constables who were dragging along an old ragged beggar. Worried about their lateness, Akitada rushed past them, but Tora hung back to ask a question.

When he caught up, he said, "They found that beggar hiding in some bushes near one of the gates and arrested him. Seems like he had a woman's sash in his sleeve."

Akitada stopped and looked back at the group. "That old man? Impossible! He looks too frail to lift a baby, let alone a full-grown pregnant woman."

He started towards the constables, but Tora grabbed his sleeve. "No, you can't! You have promised the Hiratas and your mother. Besides that captain looked smart enough to figure that out for himself."

Akitada nodded reluctantly.

When they had left the park and were rushing along Second Avenue, Tora said, "So she was pregnant! I thought so. I wonder what that means."

Akitada did not answer.

"That fellow Sato? Her teacher? You suppose it's his kid?" Tora persisted.

"Hmm."

"Maybe he killed her because she was blackmailing him."

"What? Will you please be quiet, Tora? I am thinking!"

Tora grinned, barely refraining from another quip about anxious suitors. They covered the rest of the distance without talking. Akitada's face wore a distracted, anxious look, and he had started to perspire, more from nerves than their rapid walk.

As it turned out, he need not have worried.

The minute he knocked on the Hiratas' gate, it flew open. Tamako herself stood before him, holding up a lantern and peering up at him anxiously. In the golden light, her slender figure looked like an apparition against the darkness of the garden behind. She wore a fine gown, but in the glow of the lantern, Akitada saw that her face was pale and tense.

"Thank heaven," she cried. "Here you are at last! I've been waiting forever. Where have you been?"

As her tone did not imply a flattering impatience to be with her future husband, Akitada was taken aback. "Has something happened?" he asked.

"No. I must talk to you."

Akitada sent Tora along to the kitchen quarters and explained the reason for their delay.

Tamako stood, her head lowered, swinging the lantern a little. "Oh," she said when they were alone. "Please forgive me! How terrible! The poor girl. I did not know."

"How could you have known? What is wrong?"

"Oh, Akitada!" It was a mere breath. She was standing close to him in the darkness, both of them enveloped by the fragrance of wisteria, peonies and a thousand nameless other blossoms. She was trembling, and he felt a powerful urge to touch her. But when he put his hand on her shoulder, she stepped away from him quickly.

"Please!" Her voice was tight and urgent. "I know that Father has spoken to you about marriage. But you must not do it. I beg you, if you care for me at all . . . like the sister you said I was to you . . . do not make an offer tonight, or ever! Oh, Akitada, I am so sorry, but I simply cannot marry you."

"But why not?" Aghast, he stepped closer but she flinched away again.

"Do not ask me why. I beg you to make this easy for me, and I shall always be grateful."

The rest of that evening would always hold a vaguely nightmarish quality for Akitada. He had informed Hirata that there would be no marriage, taking the blame upon himself by claiming the uncertainty of his future and his obligation to his family. Hirata had accepted his refusal without comment.

The subsequent dinner was a dismal affair. Tamako sat beside Akitada with downcast eyes, pushing her food around and eating very little, while her father looked sadly at them, sighing deeply from time to time.

At home another confrontation awaited him. His mother was still up and received the news as a personal insult.

"May I ask who broke off the engagement? And why?" she snapped.

Akitada's heart sank. He foresaw problems when his family met Tamako on the occasion of the Kamo procession. "I presumed on our friendship," he said. "It was completely my mistake."

"I see. Then
your
offer was rejected. What an affront! And to think that a Sugawara consented to marry a mere Hirata!" His mother's eyes flashed with anger.

"It was not like that," Akitada protested. Fear for Tamako caused him to add more sharply, "And I hope you and my sisters will remember tomorrow to treat Tamako with the respect due to a friend of the family."

His mother drew herself up stiffly. "Do not take it upon yourself to teach me manners! My grandfather was a direct descendant of Emperor Itoku, and I have served in the palace. I shall always know what is due our guests. You may leave! It is past my bedtime."