"I can't. She broke my back," whined Danjuro. "She finished me. I'll never act again. I want compensation."

"You what?" Kobe guffawed. "Don't worry! You'll be compensated. And if you don't sit up, I'll make certain you cannot lie down for weeks."

Danjuro bestirred himself weakly and with many moans and cries. His face was wet with sweat and tears when he finally faced them.

Kobe burst into another shout of laughter. "Behold the fierce demon king! You look more like an old woman without your mask. What a crybaby! How can someone like you play famous heroes and gods? You're an insult to men everywhere."

Danjuro shot him a malevolent glance and sniffled. "I'm an actor," he said with an attempt at dignity, "not a crude soldier or constable. Besides, I've been viciously attacked and injured. Imagine finding yourself pushed into an enclosure where some man starts hitting you! I was defending myself as best I could when that female monster joined in and tried to kill me. You'd do better to arrest that pair than to torture me. Tomorrow I shall lay charges before a judge against my attackers and all of you. Now I demand to be treated by a physician." He snapped his mouth shut and glared.

The guard jabbed Danjuro again with his jitte while his partner reached for his whip, but Kobe shook his head. "It is late, and I am tired," he said, "so we'll dispense with your amusing pretense of innocence. You are charged with murdering three people, specifically the actress Ohisa, the antiquarian Nagaoka, and the retired professor Yasaburo."

"Ridiculous," said Danjuro, feeling his ribs.

"Not at all. The actress Ohisa was a member of your troupe and one of your women. You strangled her during a stay at the Eastern Mountain Temple because you had tired of her, and had a new lover. Her murder may have been instigated by your new lover, Nagaoka's wife. We know she helped you contrive an elaborate plot in which Ohisa's body would be disguised as hers so that the murder could be pinned on Nagaoka's brother."

"Lies," cried Danjuro. "Ohisa left to go home to her parents."

"That will be easy enough to disprove," Kobe said coldly. "Your next murder, that of your paramour's husband, happened at Kohata in the home of her father. After extracting a fortune in blood money from him, you poisoned him and dumped him by the side of the highway, hoping we would blame it on robbers."

Danjuro looked at the ceiling. "I know nothing of the man. Total stranger!"

"Then there is murder number three, also by poison. I suppose you found it worked very well the last time, or you had a supply left over. In any case, you entered the eastern jail disguised as a Buddhist monk and asked to see Yasaburo. When you were admitted to his cell, you passed him the poison in a gift of food and departed."

"What a fantastic tale!" scoffed Danjuro. "Just because I'm an actor and you've seen me play a priest, you accuse me of murder. Why would I do such a thing?"

"Because you were afraid that Yasaburo would identify his daughter and because he knew or suspected that you killed Nagaoka. Believe me, Danjuro, your game is up. You can save yourself some pain by confessing now."

"You can't scare me. I'm innocent," Danjuro blustered.

"Don't forget," said Kobe, smiling ferociously, "we have your lover in custody. She will talk soon enough once the guards take the bamboo whips to her pretty backside. And she'll blame it all on you."

Danjuro sagged. Like a cornered animal's, his eyes moved frantically this way and that, "Then she'll be lying," he muttered.

He was taken away to the doctor, and Nobuko was brought in. She was in tears, but had washed the makeup off her face and managed to rearrange her hair and fairy princess gown. She knelt without urging and bowed deeply to Kobe and Akitada.

"This insignificant person is the actress Yugao, daughter of Yasaburo Seijiro and wife of the actor Danjuro. I humbly ask your honors' explanation of the charges brought against me."

Kobe regarded her bowed figure with contempt. "You can stop acting now, Mrs. Nagaoka. We know who you are and what you and your current husband have done. It is in your interest to confess quickly and completely to your involvement in the triple murder of the girl Ohisa, your husband Nagaoka, and your father Yasaburo."

Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth, then raised a hand to it and bit her knuckles. "Oh," she wailed, "that you should think I could lay a hand on my own father for whom I grieve day and night. I have not always been a dutiful daughter to him and the guilt weighs heavily on me. May the gods of heaven and earth forgive me!"

Akitada thought it a fine performance, though perhaps just a little overdone. That last phrase especially sounded quaint, like some ancient Shinto prayer.

"Guards!" shouted Kobe. Two uniformed constables entered and stood to attention. "Bamboo whips!" Kobe ordered.

The prisoner dropped her pose, her beautiful face suddenly a mask of fear. "No, please not that," she cried. "Ask me anything! I shall answer."

Kobe dismissed the constables and glowered at the prisoner. "Did you join Uemon's troupe on the sixth day of the Frost Month on the occasion of a pilgrimage to the Eastern Mountain Temple?"

"Yes. I had always aspired to be an actress, and our father encouraged us to participate in private performances. Theater was his passion. When I heard some actresses in the temple's visitors' quarters talking about one of their troupe having deserted them, I acted on impulse and offered to take; her place. It was to be for only one performance, but I fell in love with Danjuro and stayed."

Regardless of what she called herself, this woman was not only beautiful and self-possessed but very clever. The story hung together. Both her father and Harada had spoken of performances with visiting actors, and Nagaoka and Kojiro had mentioned her talents in singing and dancing. A lonely middle-aged bachelor like Nagaoka would have been enchanted by her. Even now her manner was consciously flirtatious, the lips full and moist, every movement of her body provocative. Such a woman would hardly settle for the quiet devotion of a reserved, older husband, but would try to seduce the stolid Kojiro. Danjuro, a dashing ladies' man and part-time hero onstage, would have been irresistible to her. Akitada leaned toward Kobe and whispered.

Kobe nodded. He asked the woman, "Did Uemon's Players ever perform at your father's house while you lived there?"

The question made her pause. "I... I can't remember. They may have. It was such a long time ago."

Kobe leaned forward. "We have a witness who says you met Danjuro there and later had an affair with him."

She flushed. Kobe smiled triumphantly. Then she lowered her eyes. "Yes. It's quite true. I was ashamed to admit it. It is the reason my father and I quarreled. He was terribly angry when he found out. I wanted to leave with Danjuro, but he forbade it."

Kobe and Akitada looked at each other. What was this? A confession wrapped into the old story of the maiden seduced and ruined by the villain?

Kobe muttered to Akitada, "That old man may have dug his own grave when he raised his daughter to associate with such riffraff."

Akitada murmured back, "In this case, I suspect the woman corrupted the man."

Kobe snorted and turned back to the prisoner. "We are not getting anywhere," he snapped. "You lied earlier, claiming to be your sister Yugao. Are you now admitting the truth? That you are Nobuko, widow of the late Nagaoka?"

"The truth? Oh, no. The truth is that poor Nobuko was murdered. I'm Yugao. You must believe me. We look ... looked as much alike as twins."

Kobe frowned. "Do you claim that you and your sister spent the same night at the Eastern Mountain Temple? How could you not meet?"

She sighed. "It rained. Neither of us left her room, or I might have saved her life that night."

She was good, thought Akitada. He cleared his throat. "This is pointless, Mrs. Nagaoka. Your brother-in-law told us that your sister Yugao died shortly after your marriage, certainly long before the night at the temple. There has been only one of you for years."

She tossed her head. "You take the word of the drunken sot who murdered my poor sister?" Raising her chin, she glared at Kobe. "I ask you again, why is it that that murderer runs free, while I am accused of his crime?"

Kobe growled, "Do you want me to send for the whips again? You know very well that your sister's death can be proven easily."

She smiled sadly. "My death, you mean. I'm afraid you'll not prove it. You see, my father was so angry when I ran away that he announced my death. He even went so far as to have an empty coffin cremated and a marker erected with all due ceremony. Father enjoyed making fun of the Buddhists that way."

Akitada felt the first stab of unease. This sounded remarkably like Yasaburo. His unease changed into dismay when he realized how difficult it would be to prove the woman wrong. Who had seen both women together? Their father Yasaburo and Nobuko's husband, both dead. The retarded servant? Harada, a recluse?

Kobe gave a disgusted grunt. "So! You persist in your tale! Very well. We shall prove your identity in court. You would do well to remember that the punishment for lying to a judge is one hundred lashes. Some have been known to die from it."

She paled, but managed a smile. "Then I'm safe," she said.

"Take her away!" Kobe snapped to the guards.

She walked out gracefully, her hips swaying lightly. One of the guards watched her and swallowed visibly. Kobe cursed.

Akitada shared Kobe's frustration. If this was indeed Yugao, where was Nobuko? Dead? And what of the missing Ohisa? Worse! If this was not Nobuko, then the whole case against her and Danjuro fell apart and Kojiro would once again stand accused of Nobuko's murder. But Akitada was certain that they had been right. He thought furiously.

Kobe looked despondent. He muttered, "Bitch! They did it, all right! That actor gave himself away. He's the weak link, and we'll beat it out of him. You'd think the woman would fall apart first, but she is the real demon. I was hoping to tie the case up before the New Year."

Akitada nodded. He felt responsible. If he had checked the background of the people involved more carefully, this would not have happened. Yasaburo's confusing references to daughters should have warned him. It had never been quite clear if he referred to Nobuko or both sisters. Kojiro had cleared up the discrepancy, but his information should have been checked, particularly since he had never met Nobuko's sister. Harada had been vague also, probably because he never spent time with Yasaburo's family and saw the girls only from a distance. It explained also why he had not recognized Nobuko in her makeup and costume.

Kobe growled, "Curse that man for producing two such daughters! What now?"

Akitada rose with a sigh. "We will go out and ask more questions." He was still sore and tired easily, but he owed Kobe another effort and had made a promise to Kojiro. "I shall talk to Miss Plumblossom and the other actors again. Perhaps you could send someone to Kohata?"

Kobe nodded glumly. "I'll go myself. A fine New Year's Day, plodding through the mud for hours to talk to drunken farmers and locals. Not to mention that half-wit."

The night air was thick with the scent of pine torches and greenery as Akitada walked south toward the river. A faintly lit haze of smoke hovered over the dark rooftops and towering pines. People were still celebrating with muffled cries and laughter, and here and there groups of drunken revelers staggered home. Some of them would tumble into the frozen canals and sober up quickly. Some perhaps would not have the strength to save themselves and would die an icy death.

Akitada shivered and walked faster, hoping to find Miss Plumblossom and the others still awake. He was encouraged by the sounds of lute and zither coming from the houses in the pleasure quarter, and by the many people crowding the streets.

Lights shone from behind the high paper-covered windows of the training hall, and he heard laughter. The old doorkeeper let him in, pointing toward the end of the hall. Apparently all the oil lamps and lanterns had been gathered around Miss Plumblossom's dais. She held court on her chair, her maid on the dais beside her and a group of actors and acrobats clustered around. Tora and Genba sat on the floor at her feet.

They had been celebrating. Cups and pitchers of wine and trays of food littered the floor, and their faces were flushed. Tora and Genba jumped up guiltily when they saw Akitada.

"We were invited for a nightcap," Genba said.

Tora asked, "Is something wrong, sir?"

"No, but we have run into a problem. Mrs. Nagaoka claims to be her sister."

Something clattered and there was a gasp. Surprised, they looked at the maid, who had dropped her fan and raised a hand to her mouth, staring at Akitada with wide, horrified eyes.

"Yukiyo," said her mistress severely, "you've been acting very peculiar ever since we got back. What is the matter with you?"

The maid snatched up her fan and hid her face again. "Nothing, nothing."

"Nonsense, girl! You know something. I recall you asking a lot of questions about Danjuro and his wife. Out with it!"

The maid cried out and struggled to her feet, but Miss Plumblossom's pudgy hand clamped around her arm. "Sit, girl! I'll not have you cause more trouble after all I've done for you. You've made enough of a mess already. Look what you did to poor Tora! Is that any way to pay me back, you ungrateful girl? I took you off the streets when you were starving and gave you a home. I've been a mother to you."

Yukiyo collapsed like a straw doll and wrapped her arms around Miss Plumblossom's knees. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "By the gods of heaven and earth, I would do anything for you."

Akitada tensed. That strange phrase about the ancient gods again! The upper-class speech belied the maid's present status. And that peculiar gesture. She, too, had raised her knuckles to her mouth. His heart pounding, he asked, "Who are you really?"

Miss Plumblossom frowned. "Yukiyo? Is there something you haven't told me?"

Yukiyo mumbled something unintelligible.

"What?" she asked. "You gave your word about what?"

Akitada stepped closer. "Are you Yugao?"

More whispers. Miss Plumblossom's painted eyebrows rose.

Akitada urged, "Miss Plumblossom, if she is Yugao and protecting her sister Nobuko, she must testify. She is our only hope in bringing the murderers of three people to justice."

Miss Plumblossom reached down and touched the sobbing woman's head. "He is right, child," she said.

"Answer my question!" Akitada cried impatiently. "If you are Yugao, your sister plotted the murders of your own father and her husband. If we cannot prove her identity, the killers will go free and the dead will have no peace."

Yukiyo clutched Miss Plumblossom tightly and wailed. Miss Plumblossom looked old and sad, her rounded cheeks and double chin sagging. "Poor child," she murmured, patting the weeping girl's back, "poor child. Don't grieve! You'll always have a home with me, no matter what happens. You shall be the daughter I never had. Now sit up proper and wipe your face. You're among friends and you've nothing to be ashamed of. You've done your filial duty. Which is more than I can say for that evil creature."

They all held their breath. Yukiyo laid down her fan, and raised her disfigured face to Akitada. Struggling to speak through torn lips, she said tonelessly, "Yes, you found out the truth. I'm Yugao. I don't know how you guessed. My own sister did not recognize me."

Akitada smiled encouragingly. "You have a grace of gesture and an old-fashioned manner of speaking in common. Both of you called on the 'gods of heaven and earth,' for example, when most people would invoke the Buddha."

"Our father did not want us to refer to Buddhist gods. When Nobuko first came here with Uemon's people, I was so happy to see her. I thought we might live together, but she didn't want me-and she was married to Danjuro. Danjuro ... well, I was in love with Danjuro once, and the way I look now, I didn't want him to know who I was. I begged Nobuko to keep my secret, and she agreed if I would keep hers. I thought then it was because she had run away from her husband. We swore by our mother's soul." She stopped, hid her face in her sleeve, and wailed again. Miss Plumblossom put an arm around her.

Akitada released his breath slowly and sat down. So there had been more than one mystery. How had the temple scroll put it? A Twofold Truth. The case was solved, but at what human cost! He said gently, "I understand, Yugao. It is a difficult thing to testify against your own sister even under normal circumstances, but you must do so in this case. You see, quite apart from your duty to your dead father, there are the living to be considered. Nagaoka's brother Kojiro is a good man who was cruelly set up for the murder of the girl Ohisa. He would never be cleared of this suspicion except for your honesty. Think of it as a gift you make to the victims, dead and alive, a debt you pay to make good your sister's crimes."

Clutching Miss Plumblossom's hand, Yugao-Yukiyo nodded her head.

Akitada looked at the graceful way she sat, her pretty shape, slender neck, and glossy hair all in stark contrast to the ruined face. "Will you tell us your story?"

She nodded again.

"My father always invited actors to perform for him at the farm, and when we got older it pleased him if we dressed up and acted small parts with them. We thought it fun, and the actors liked us because we were both pretty." She flushed. "I was pretty then. Danjuro preferred my beauty to my sister's. He asked me, not my sister, to be his wife and to go away with him. Father was furious when I told him. He ordered Danjuro and the others to leave. I cried for days. Then Danjuro wrote to me, and I ran away to be with him." She shivered and pulled her robe more closely about her. "Only it wasn't what I had expected. Danjuro didn't marry me, and after a while he had other women. I was upset and acted poorly, and one day Uemon fired me. Danjuro told me to go home. But I couldn't because my father had declared me dead. So I roamed the city, looking for work, and found there was only prostitution. After that nothing much mattered except the next meal. Until I met the slasher."

A dismal silence fell. "Well," Miss Plumblossom finally said firmly, "I think your father treated you abominably for a little mistake, and then that bastard Danjuro did you wrong. Men! And your own sister, instead of opening her arms to you with love, tells you to leave her alone. Your whole family has a lot to answer for."

Akitada looked on helplessly. Hell had little to compare with the sufferings of the living. In the face of such misery-the loss of her family, her lover, her beauty, and the hope for future happiness-he felt humbled.

Tora, characteristically unsentimental, looked at the practical side of the situation. "You know," he pointed out, "your sister can't inherit your father's place, and that leaves only you. You'll have the farm, and if you're the girl I think you are, you'll make a go of it."

The thought surprised Yugao. She stared at him. "Kohata mine? Do you really think so? But who will believe me? How can they tell I'm Yugao when my own mother would not recognize me?"

Tora looked at his master in consternation.

"I think," said Akitada, "considering your great service to the capital in identifying Noami as the slasher, and your testimony in the present case, the authorities will help you prove your identity by the details you remember of your home and past. I see no great difficulties in your claiming your inheritance."

Yugao rose. Looking down at Miss Plumblossom, she reached for her hand. "Will you come with me?"

"Of course," said the other woman gruffly, getting up. "You're a brave girl. Let's go and get it over with."

Yugao suddenly smiled. It was startling, a horrible grimace, but it touched their hearts and they all smiled back at her. Miss Plumblossom nodded and dabbed her eyes, When they arrived, Kobe stared in surprise at the ill-assorted group of men and women who crowded into the prison director's office.

"What's this?" he demanded of Akitada. "I'm dead tired and have a hard day ahead of me. As you well know."

"You don't have to go to Kohata. I brought Kohata to you." Akitada pulled Yugao forward.

Kobe flinched when he saw her face. "Miss Plumblossom's maid? The one who identified the painter?"

"Yes," the maid said, her voice trembling a little. "But I am also Yugao, Yasaburo's younger daughter. I have come to identify my sister Nobuko so she can atone for what she has done."

Kobe stared at her. Slowly a broad grin replaced his scowl. He shouted for a guard and ordered both prisoners brought back.

Danjuro tottered in first. A doctor had tended to his broken rib, but he looked ill and hopeless. Nobuko entered with her head held high. She saw her sister immediately and looked away. Except for small beads of perspiration on her face and a slight trembling of her hands, she gave no sign of recognition. Glancing at the others, she sneered, "I see you've brought this has-been of an acrobat and a parcel of untalented actors to speak against me. It won't do you any good."