Yasaburo cried, "The dissembling cheat has stolen my horse and run. No doubt with my money. Quick, after him!"

Kobe snapped, "Fetch my sergeant!"

The sergeant was sent in pursuit of the flighty Harada, and Kobe began pacing, muttering under his breath. The boy stood staring at Yasaburo and picking his nose. Akitada got up to wander about the room.

"You!" Kobe snapped suddenly at the boy. "Look at me! Who was here the day Nagaoka visited?"

The boy said, "She was here. With him. He gives me coppers."

Yasaburo cried, "I told you the boy is slow. He is confused and remembers an earlier visit by my daughter and her husband."

Akitada paused in his examination of the musical instruments to cast a surprised glance at Yasaburo. So the man had another daughter. Come to think of it, he had referred to daughters earlier. There was no reason why he should not, but neither Nagaoka nor his brother had mentioned this.

Kobe asked the boy, "Did they come the same day as Mr. Nagaoka?"

The boy thought. "It was before. He gave me five coppers."

"A boat without oars," Kobe muttered under his breath. He tried again, "Your master's daughter and her husband, did they meet Mr. Nagaoka? Talk to him?"

But he had run out of luck. The boy shook his head. "Maybe they did, maybe they didn't."

"What about Mr. Nagaoka's horse? Did he leave his horse behind?"

The boy grinned. "I was tending his horse."

With a sigh, Kobe let him go. Yasaburo started up again about Harada's duplicity. Kobe snapped, "Shut up! You're in enough trouble," and started pacing and muttering again.

After a while, Yasaburo tried again. "I confess I'm as surprised as you at Harada's flight, Superintendent," he said. "It must mean he is involved in this murder. Frankly, I never did like the man. With all his crazy talk, I always thought he was half-mad, but I never dreamed he would kill anyone. He knew about the eighteen bars of silver. No doubt he thought Nagaoka carried more. Harada drinks like a fish, and nobody knows what he does in the capital. Maybe he gambles." Yasaburo glanced nervously at the dais, where Akitada was still looking at the instruments.

"I am curious, Professor Yasaburo," Akitada asked him, "what made you employ a man as untrustworthy as Harada?"

Yasaburo fidgeted. "Oh. He was a colleague. Lost his university position because of his drinking after his family died. Smallpox. But he was good with numbers. His fingers play tunes on that abacus of his, and his bookkeeping is immaculate. He got no wine from me while he was working, but once a month I let him off for a few days in the capital." Seeing disbelief in their faces, he added grudgingly, "And he worked cheap."

Akitada drifted on. In a niche hung a calligraphy scroll above a vase filled with dead branches. Both the scroll and the ledge for the vase were covered with thick dust, but a large trunk next to it looked clean. Idly Akitada opened it. It was filled with brilliant robes and gowns. On top lay a carved mask of some magic creature. He opened his mouth to ask if Yasaburo's daughters had taken part in theatrical performances, but thought better of it.

It was becoming obvious that Harada had made good his escape. Kobe stopped in front of Yasaburo. "We will take you back to the capital for further questioning. You may pack some clothes and enough money to purchase food from the prison guards."

"Why?" wailed Yasaburo. "I've done nothing. You cannot do this!"

While Kobe had Yasaburo readied for the return journey, Akitada made a quick tour of the house.

At one time, the dwelling and an adjoining smaller building must have accommodated comfortably a family and several servants, but now Yasaburo seemed to be living in one room, for the other rooms were not only shuttered and empty, but thick layers of dust lay on everything. Managing with only Harada and the boy, Yasaburo would not expect much in terms of service. However, in the other wing, one room was the exception to the general state of dereliction. Here a few grass mats covered the floorboards and trunks held clean bedding. Several braziers and oil lamps stood around and the room had been cleaned recently. No doubt this was where Nagaoka's other daughter stayed with her husband on their visits.

He walked back to the courtyard. The sergeant and his men were getting off their horses with glum faces. No Harada. Since the man knew the area better than the constables, he could have hidden anywhere and nobody the wiser. Harada was the biggest puzzle of all.

Kobe came out with Yasaburo and two constables. Yasaburo's hands were tied behind his back. Kobe said, "One of the horses in the stable bears the marks of a post station in the capital, and my men found poison. Arsenic. He says it's for the birds, but I charged him. Dr. Masayoshi will be able to tell what Nagaoka took. Ready? It's a long ride back."

They rode ahead of the others. Akitada felt vaguely uneasy. He asked Kobe what he thought about the visit of the other daughter and her husband.

"That half-wit of a boy! I doubt they are involved, but we'll get the truth out of Yasaburo." After that they fell silent, each caught up in his own thoughts.

Akitada found the recent revelations confusing rather than enlightening. Until now they had not been aware that the dead woman had had a married sister. And the costumes in Yasaburo's trunk were even more intriguing. Yasaburo had claimed his interest had ended when his daughters had moved away, but as dusty as the rest of the room had been, Yasaburo seemed to have cared lovingly for the reminders of a happier past. Most troubling were the ubiquitous ties to the acting profession. Everyone connected with the case so far had some interest in or involvement with actors.

The snowy landscape was mostly empty. Few people took to the road this time of year, and those were walking, mainly local peasants or itinerant monks. But when they topped the final rise, they saw a lone horseman ahead of them.

The rider, covered in some large colorful garment, slouched and drooped, leaning alarmingly first to one side, then to the other, and was alternately kicking the beast into bursts of speed and reining it in again.

"Heavens," cried Kobe, "that's Harada, isn't it?" and kicked his own horse into a gallop.

It was. When Harada heard the pursuit, he glanced over his shoulder and whipped up his mount. The animal reared and took off madly across a barren, snow-covered field, with Harada clinging on for dear life, the strange robe fluttering behind like a huge pair of multicolored wings. At first they gained only slightly on him. Then, abruptly, his horse became airborne, and Harada flew off.

When they reached him, he was sitting on the edge of a frozen irrigation ditch, shaking his fist after the escaping horse. He was surrounded by the colorful folds of a quilt, one of those which had covered his shivering body in the unheated pavilion. He seemed to have fashioned it into a cloak by cutting a hole in it for his head.

Kobe swung himself out of the saddle and said happily, "Not a bad haul. Two prisoners on a single murder charge. Trouble is, I don't have chains or rope to tie him up with. Do you?"

Akitada shook his head and dismounted. "It's just as well," he said. "I have a feeling this man is a witness rather than an accomplice. Let's go easy with him."

Harada made no effort to get up. Instead he greeted them with the words, "I hate horses and they hate me. It's a measure of the misery to which I have been reduced since I entered the service of that man that I should choose his horse to escape it."

Kobe looked baffled. "Better than facing a murder charge, surely,"

"Is it murder, then?" Harada shook his head. "It wasn't me."

"Then why did you steal the horse and run away?" Kobe growled.

"From the purest of motives, Superintendent, I assure you. Even Confucius would approve. A man should not add to his employer's troubles if he can avoid it."

Akitada asked, "Are you hurt?"

Harada felt various parts of his body and shook his head. "Good thing I brought the quilt against the cold. It cushioned the impact." He eyed his surroundings. A little distance from them one of the many little groves of trees hid a small farmhouse. "I suppose I must impose on the good farmer's hospitality tonight."

"Nonsense. You're under arrest," snapped Kobe. "Who do you think you're dealing with? A couple of yokels? This is a murder case."

Harada heaved a shuddering sigh. "I knew it wouldn't work, but it was worth a try. I'm not getting on a horse, though."

Kobe raised his brows. "You want to walk?"

"Perhaps a palanquin?"

Kobe roared with laughter. "You think you're the emperor himself, do you? You either ride or walk. And seeing that we are in a hurry to get your master locked up, you may have to run."

"You've arrested Yasaburo for the murder of his son-in-law?" Harada finally made a move to disentangle himself from the quilt, and get to his feet.

"I did. What do you know about it?"

"Not much. I was drunk at the time."

"I thought you were supposed to have no wine except on your visits to the capital," said Akitada.

"Yes, yes. Part of the contract, A roof over my head and a bit of food, plus a monthly binge. Except that day. He sent me a pitcher of wine-very superior stuff, by the way, which is astonishing in itself-with the message that I was to take it for my cold. I did. All of it before the sun went down. And forgot my cold and slept. When I woke up it was the middle of the next day, I was feeling a lot worse, and Nagaoka was gone."

Kobe said, "What about Yasaburo's daughter and husband?"

"Them? A more disreputable pair you'll never meet. I stay out of their way when they show up. They cavort about, dressed up like lions with masks and long manes of hair, the daughter in man's pants, lifting her legs up in the air, screeching like a demon possessed. And the old man is beating a drum and shouting encouragement. And he complains about my drinking! I ask you, would you let your daughter act that way?"

Kobe looked baffled by the question. "Let's go," he said gruffly. "We can't spend the rest of the afternoon chatting in a field."

Since Kobe climbed back on his horse and seemed to expect the shivering Harada to trot behind, Akitada said, "You can ride with me. If you sit in front, I'll hold you and make sure you don't fall again."

Harada thought about it and nodded. The ascent was accomplished with difficulty, observed by a smirking Kobe, but eventually they were on their way to the highway, where the others awaited them.

Yasaburo greeted Harada with abuse and demands for his horse. He was ignored.

Slowed down by Harada, Akitada fell in behind the cortege. Harada gradually relaxed, and talked a little about his life. The loss of his family had shaken him to the point that he cared for little but periodic wine-induced bouts of forgetfulness.

"How long have you worked for Yasaburo?" Akitada asked.

"Almost a year."

"Then you don't know much about the performances they used to give?"

"Not much. I watched once, then stayed away when they played the fools."

"So you did not take your meals with the family?"

Harada looked back at him over his shoulder. "What, me? Never. I would not have accepted had they asked. I stay in the garden pavilion and sleep in the stable."

Akitada had suspected as much from close contact with Harada's quilt.

By the time they reached the capital, Harada had unburdened himself about his work: Yasaburo rented out plots to poor farmers in exchange for rice, which he traded for silver or invested in more land purchases. Harada's function had been to collect rents, and to keep the books in such a way that the annual tax collector's visit might pass with minimal losses. He glossed over illegalities, but his tone implied them. He had disapproved, but, unattractive as working for Yasaburo was, he had little choice in the matter. Besides, he pointed out, it left him time to read and write, and to make periodic trips to the capital.

He shivered a little and sighed. "I suppose I could have saved myself that terrifying ride out of loyalty to a man I have no respect for."

Long before they reached the eastern jail, Harada began to sag more heavily against Akitada, and when they arrived, he had fallen into a fitful sleep.

"We'll put him in one of the cells," said Kobe when he saw them trudging into the prison courtyard, Harada slumped forward across the horse's neck and Akitada grimacing as he tried to keep him from falling off.

"He feels feverish," Akitada said. "I think he is too ill to stay here. It is not just that Harada should now die in prison because of Yasaburo's misdeeds. If you agree, I will take him home, where Seimei can look after him. Besides, I have a feeling he knows something about the murders without being aware of it."

NINETEEN.

The Temple of Boundless Mercy Saburo opened the gate and helped Akitada with the semiconscious Harada. When they had him standing on wobbly legs, Harada mumbled, "Sorry, must've had a drop too much. Head hurts," and pitched forward. Akitada caught him and picked him up bodily. Harada weighed little, even with his assorted blankets.

"Get Seimei and send him to my room," Akitada told Saburo, and carried Harada into the house.

In his study, he laid him down. Harada opened his eyes and blinked at him. "What... where ... ?"

"Don't worry! My secretary is quite good with herbal remedies, and so is my wife. They will have you feeling better in no time."

"Tha's very good of you," mumbled Harada. He looked at Akitada uneasily. "Er, who are you? I seem to have forgotten."

"Sugawara. You are in my house. I brought you here because you seem a bit feverish."

"Hmm," said Harada, and fell into a dry coughing fit which left him shaking and gasping.

The door opened and Seimei came in.

"Another patient for you," said Akitada. "This is Professor Harada. He was manager for Nagaoka's father-in-law, Yasaburo, who was arrested for Nagaoka's murder. Our guest is a witness in the case. I brought him here because he is too sick to go anyplace else."

Seimei was immediately all interest and attention. He knelt, greeting Harada with a bow, before peering at his face intently. Harada peered back. Seimei bowed again and touched Harada's forehead. "A fever is burning your life force and you must be put to bed immediately, sir," he informed the sick man. Then he turned to Akitada. "Shall I put Professor Harada in Miss Akiko's room?"

"Yes. And see what you can do for him." Harada had closed his eyes and was either asleep or unconscious. Akitada took Seimei aside and gave him a sketchy outline of Harada's misfortunes, adding, "He has suffered more misery than one man deserves."

Seimei shook his head with pity, but remarked, "As to what he deserves, sir, we do not know what he may have been guilty of in his previous life." Seimei was a strong believer in karma as the ultimate leveler of human lives, punishing transgressions and rewarding virtues in subsequent lives.

"How is Tora?" Akitada asked.

Seimei smiled. "Much improved, though he won't say so in front of the ladies."

"The ladies?"

"Oh, yes. He has visitors every day."

Akitada scooped the sick man up again, and carried him to another wing of the house where his sister Akiko's room had stood empty since her marriage to Toshikage. There, Seimei spread bedding from a trunk. Together they divested Harada of an odd assortment of patched blankets and robes and tucked him under the quilts.

The small room Tora shared with Genba was crammed full of people. Tora, covered by a quilt and leaning on an armrest, reclined on a mat in its center. Next to him sat Miss Plumblossom, enthroned on an upturned water barrel on which someone had placed one of the silk cushions from Akitada's room. Apparently she refused to sit on the floor like everyone else. Slightly behind her was her maid, her scarred face hidden behind a fan, and on Tora's other side knelt a very pretty young girl with sparkling eyes. Genba's bulk filled the rest of the room. All of them looked up at Akitada's entrance, smiled, and bowed.

"Well!" Akitada looked around. "I hope I see you all well. Especially you, Tora."

"Pretty well, pretty well," Tora said with an expression of patient suffering. "The company helps, but the nights are bad, and I can't seem to move without much pain." The pretty girl by his side took his hand and stroked it, murmuring, "My poor tiger."

The rascal, thought Akitada, and sat down. He kept a straight face and told Miss Plumblossom, "I am happy to see that you have made your peace." Sitting down had put him at a distinct disadvantage, because the formidable Miss Plumblossom now towered over him.

She was untroubled by the impropriety. "The four of us have come to an understanding," she informed Akitada, and smiled with fashionably blackened teeth. "Yukiyo, the foolish girl, will make up for falsely accusing poor Tora by helping him find the slasher. Between us we'll get the bastard, if it's the last thing we do." She nodded emphatically and her red hair ribbons bounced.

Akitada looked at Tora, who looked back uneasily. "It's what I'd planned to do all along, sir," he pleaded. "In fact, that's one reason I went to Miss Plumblossom's. I've finally got a case of my own to solve."

Akitada opened his mouth to point out some small problems-such as the fact that Tora needed rest, or that, once he was well, he had certain duties to perform, or that the slasher had so far escaped the superior manpower of the police as well as the watchful eyes of people. Something about Tora's face made him keep his thoughts to himself. "Excellent!" he said heartily. "I wish you the greatest success. Given your experience and special talents and Yukiyo's description of the man, you will triumph where Superintendent Kobe has failed."

Tora flushed with pleasure, but Miss Plumblossom said, "The silly girl says she couldn't see in the dark. All she's sure of is that he was smallish and thinnish but very strong. Humph!"