The Fires of the Gods (15 page)

Lady Aoi looked at Akitada with her large, glittering eyes. Then she pulled her shawl back over her hair and got to her feet. Akitada noticed that she had come barefoot, and that ropes of beads also decorated her ankles.

‘Foolish man,’ she murmured.

Akitada clapped his hands. Tora appeared so quickly that he had probably been listening at the door. ‘Sir?’

‘Lady Aoi is ready to leave. Please see her to the gate.’

Lady Aoi walked out, beads clicking and robes rustling, without a bow.

Tora gave Akitada a look and shuddered, then followed her, leaving his master to wonder when Tora would finally lose his fear of magic.

When Tora returned, he looked pale. ‘Sir, she speaks to the gods and knows what will happen. She told me to be prepared, that there is very great danger. And then she said it was probably too late already. Let’s call her back and ask her to perform a service.’

Akitada was irritated. ‘Nonsense, people cannot see the future. She is either mad or hopes to fool us into paying her in golden coin for her tricks of the trade. More likely she’s merely mad. I’m sorry she frightened you.’

Tora looked stubborn. ‘I just thought… if she’s a proper
miko
, she could do an exorcism for when your lady gives birth.’

‘Did you tell her that my wife is about to give birth?’

‘She asked.’

‘If she can see the future, she should have known,’ Akitada pointed out.

Tora held his ground. ‘It’s hard to know everything. I know nothing. You know a lot more. Isn’t it possible that some people know things you and I don’t?’

‘Certainly. In her case, I was hoping that she could tell me about the Kiyowara murder. She’s the wife’s cousin. But she had absolutely no idea.’ He saw that Tora wanted to argue the point and said, ‘Never mind. I’ve decided to postpone your trip into the country. I have a job for you.’

‘A job? What about getting Genba and Trouble?’

‘That can wait. I want you to find a young monk who’s gone missing. His name is Kansei. The abbot says he was seen with some hoodlums in the western quarter. Frankly, it seems farfetched for an acolyte. I would have thought he’d spend his time
in the brothel quarter.’ He mentioned Abbot Shokan’s worries that his protégé was getting in trouble with the law.

Tora smirked. ‘Lost his pretty boy, has he?’

‘Perhaps, and perhaps not. The abbot is an imperial prince. He may simply have taken a fatherly interest.’

Tora guffawed.

‘Look, it won’t be helpful if you approach this task with preconceived ideas. Boys get into trouble all the time. Whatever the situation, we need to find him.’

‘It won’t be easy. Those hooligans are everywhere. No more begging or sweeping the street for a bite of food. As for mischief, we know some of them are setting fires, even if the police don’t believe it.’ He thought a moment. ‘I wish I’d known sooner. That fellow Tojiro might know him.’

‘Perhaps, but even if you find him, what makes you think he’ll talk to you after you tried to have him arrested?’

Tora grinned. ‘I know where his girlfriend works.’

Akitada decided to leave matters to him. ‘Very well, but no violence and be careful. If you’re right about the fires, you could find yourself in some real trouble.’

Tora thought of the knife attack in the dark alley. ‘I’ll watch myself.’

RAT TRAP

H
is heart beating madly, Jirokichi practically vaulted over the outside wall of the merchant’s property and came down on the other side so carelessly that he twisted his ankle on the uneven ground. Muttering a curse, he hobbled away, down the alley between property walls and out into the side street. His mind on his painful leg and on getting as far away from the house as he could, he did not notice his danger until it was too late.

No more than fifty feet away from the mouth of the alley stood the two louts, engaged in an altercation. They saw Jirokichi the moment he saw them.

‘Hey! What’s he been doing back there?’

Jirokichi gasped, turned, and started running.

Almost immediately a sharp pain shot up his leg and he stumbled. He heard their steps behind him. One of them shouted, ‘Grab him!’

They dragged him up by the collar and saw who he was.

‘It’s the Rat,’ cried the leader, astonished and pleased. ‘This time, shitface,’ he told Jirokichi, shaking him like rag, ‘you’re not getting away.’

Jirokichi believed him.

‘Been spying on us?’

Jirokichi shook his head.

‘Let me search him,’ said the other lout. ‘I bet he’s just robbed some rich bastard.’ He started feeling Jirokichi’s body.

‘Wait. Not here,’ said the tall one. ‘Someone may come. We can have some fun with him at our place.’

Jirokichi risked a loud yell for help. He got a fist in his mouth and nose and spit out a tooth in a gush of blood. The pain and the blood shut him up, but his tormentors were not satisfied. While the big lout held the limp Jirokichi, his companion tore strips off Jirokichi’s shirt and gagged him. Then they set off, dragging him between them like a bag of garbage.

They went quite a long way. Jirokichi choked on blood and convulsed a couple of times, but was shaken into proper compliance. It was late, and they kept to side streets until they reached the poorer part of the city and entered an abandoned warehouse. There they dropped Jirokichi while one of them struck a flint and lit an oil lantern. Jirokichi was again choking badly. The blood had closed his nose and the gag allowed very little air into his lungs. He twisted his head, trying to loosen the gag a little. They kicked him, then dragged him upright and ripped off the gag.

‘Go ahead and cry your head off, turd,’ said the leader, grinning. ‘Nobody’11 hear you.’

They searched him more carefully, but found no gold on him. Disappointed, they took turns pummeling him and laughing. Jirokichi accepted that he was about to die and passed out.

He woke to even greater misery, thereby proving that life was worthless, as the monks had taught him in his youth.

He was hanging from his arms. His feet barely touched the ground, and the pain in his arms and shoulders was so agonizing that he did not feel his other wounds. He had no idea how long he had been hanging like this, but his nose and mouth had bled
freely down the front of his torn shirt and made a puddle on the floor that had mixed with piss when he had lost control of his bladder.

In a corner nearby, his two tormentors sat together with some other louts. They perched on sake barrels, discussing the events of the night.

‘So,’ the leader’s skinny companion was asking, ‘do we kill the Rat and tell the fat slug that he’s been spying on him? Or will the slug get mad that we touched the saintly little bastard?’

‘Kill him,’ cried two of the newcomers. The third turned to look where Jirokichi was swaying in the semi-darkness.

‘Hey,’ he said, ‘His eyes are open. He’s been listening.’

Instantly, they were on their feet and around him. Jirokichi cursed himself. He closed his eyes and pretended to be unconscious, but they weren’t fooled. A hard slap across the face made Jirokichi’s eyes pop open again. Their eyes gleamed with anticipation.

One of them gave Jirokichi a push in the chest that sent him swinging and twisting like a pendulum. They laughed and spent some time pushing him back and forth on his rope, harder and harder. Jirokichi shrieked when his shoulder separated.

‘Stop that noise,’ snapped the leader, halting the human pendulum, ‘or I’ll do it again. Now talk. You were coming from that alley. What were you doing back there?’

Jirokichi blubbered, ‘N-nothing.’

Instantly, he got another push and shrieked again. This amused the others, who hopped around, laughing.

Their leader steadied Jirokichi’s body and brought his face closer. He was not laughing. ‘You were down that alley spying on us, right? I want to know what you saw and heard.’

But Jirokichi knew that the truth would mean certain death. A lie had to be good, and even then they would probably kill him eventually – after lots of torment. He pretended to faint again.

Immediately, blows rained down on him, into his belly, face, groin, and back. He shrieked again and again. Hot pain exploded everywhere in his body, and he passed out for good.

THE BLIND BEGGAR

B
efore Tora left on his new assignment, he lectured Hanae about watching the baby and not wandering about town alone. He was so firm about this that Hanae got frightened.

‘What have you done now?’ she demanded, her eyes flashing. ‘You and your master are getting to be more and more alike. You care for nothing but your work. I cannot imagine what makes foolish women agree to marry men like you.’

This caused a delay, as Tora had to reassure his wife he had done nothing and that she and Yuki were the treasures of his life. He was afraid to tell her what Lady Aoi had said. Hanae forgave him eventually, sealing his pardon with a kiss that he took such pleasure in returning that one thing led to another.

When Tora finally set out, it was nearly the hour of the midday rice. He walked quickly to the Western Market. He meant to visit the Fragrant Peach again. With luck, he would find Tojiro with his girlfriend; if not, the young waitress could be made to talk.

He skirted Hoshina’s place at the market corner and was about to pass through the market gate into Nishi-Horikawa Avenue when he heard a female voice shouting his name. He turned his head, and there was Hoshina herself, galloping after him. She cried, ‘Wait, Tora. Please!’

Please? Her eagerness astonished him. He waited. She came to a halt before him and caught her breath.

‘It’s Jirokichi,’ she gasped. ‘He didn’t come home last night.’

Tora raised his brows. ‘So?’ He was still resentful about the tricks she had played on him. ‘Is he your husband, then? And has he run off with another woman?’

She flushed. ‘Shut up. It’s serious.’ She glanced around, but they were alone for the moment. ‘He went out on a job last night,’ she said in a low voice, ‘and didn’t come back.’

Tora snorted. ‘In his business, that probably means he got caught. Check the jails.’

Hoshina burst into tears. ‘I did, and he isn’t there. I think
those bastards got hold of him again. I think he’s lying somewhere, bleeding to death. Oh please, Tora, help us. Find him. I’ll do anything. I can pay you.’

Tora’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t trying to seduce him this time. She looked really desperate. But the old anger at Jirokichi welled up again. ‘I don’t want your money,’ he said coldly and shook off her hand.

She grasped him again, this time with both hands. ‘What do you want?’

‘Information. And I bet he’s just late getting home. Maybe he’s been celebrating with whatever he stole.’

‘No, he always comes home directly. Always. He knows I wait up.’ Her voice got shrill, and a couple of women, passing with their shopping baskets, gave them sharp looks. Hoshina pulled Tora back towards her place. ‘We can’t talk here. If you’ll come with me, I’ll tell you about the fires.’

Tora stopped resisting. He did not trust her, but could not pass up this chance. It would be a fine thing, if Superintendent Kobe could be made to eat his words.

In Hoshina’s wine shop, a couple of men were waiting to be served, but Hoshina snapped, ‘Go away! I’m closed,’ and pushed them out the door, locking up behind them.

‘What about your business?’ Tora asked, astonished.

‘Never mind the business. This is more important. Are you going to find Jirokichi?’

Tora shook his head. ‘If I recall, I asked you where he was hiding last time we talked, and you wouldn’t tell me. If you don’t know where he is, how am I going to look for him?’

She ignored that. ‘You want to know about the fires. He didn’t want to tell you about that because he liked you.’ She snorted. ‘He’s a fool, but I want him back.’

Tora tried to puzzle that out and failed. ‘What about the fires?’

‘Someone’s been setting them.’

‘I know that already.’ Tora made for the door.

‘Wait. Jirokichi’s really frightened about those fires. I think he may have found out something and…’ She wailed, ‘Maybe they killed him because he knows who’s behind it.’

‘Oh, stop crying,’ Tora said. ‘You don’t know that. It could be something else altogether. Where did he go last night?’

She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. ‘He never says exactly, but he thought there’d be a lot of gold
at this place. He needed the gold because of what he gave you.’ She shot him an accusing look. ‘And he got no thanks for it.’

‘I don’t want his damned gold. He’ll get it back. I got angry because he snuck into my house at night and…’ Tora tried to explain and failed. ‘Well… it’s the way he did it. Besides, I can’t take gold for helping some poor bastard who’s getting beaten up by hoodlums. It wouldn’t be right.’

She was astonished. ‘What do you mean, “It’s the way he did it”?’

Tora blushed. ‘He was in my place at night while me and my wife… I mean, anyone would be furious if strangers wandered around their house at any hour of the night.’

She stared at him, then burst into hysterical laughter. ‘You thought he was spying on you and your wife making love?’ she gasped. ‘Wait till he hears! Oh.’ She stopped laughing and put her hand over her mouth. Her face crumpled again.

Tora said, ‘Maybe he got caught and someone decided to teach him a lesson for snooping.’

She wailed, ‘That’s what I’m afraid of. Only, it must’ve been about the fires.’

‘Oh, I didn’t mean anything serious. He could be dragging home with a black eye any moment. Aw, for the gods’ sake, Hoshina. Tell me where he went, and I’ll go take a look.’

She stopped wailing. ‘Some rich man’s house in the Fifth Ward. I don’t know his name.’

‘A merchant? What sort of business?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘He must’ve said something. What about the house? Did he describe it?’

‘No. But he was afraid of rain because steep roofs get slippery then. It didn’t rain last night. Do you think he’s gone and broken his neck?’

‘My guess would be that he’s good at his job, so don’t worry. I’ll see if I can find him. Now, maybe you can tell me something else. I’m looking for a young monk. His name’s Kansei. He may be with the same crowd that got hold of Jirokichi the first time. Did Jirokichi mention a monk?’

She shook her head. ‘What would a monk be doing with those bastards?’

Tora sighed. Maybe Tojiro’s girlfriend would know something.
‘You ever hear of three deaf mutes? Middle-aged and mean-looking?’

She nodded. ‘They’re collectors.’

Tora was pleased. Collectors worked for armed men who sold protection against thieves and robbers to merchants, but such a business was often run by the criminals themselves. The dying Kaneharu had talked of his father paying, but his neighbor had blamed the fire on the old man being a miser.

‘You mean someone’s running a protection racket?’

‘They collect anything owed: rent, loans, and service. It’s a way to make a living.’

‘But they also collect for protection? Who’s behind that?’

‘An ex-soldier and his men. They keep watch over the market and some businesses that had trouble with vandals and thieves.’

‘Would they be setting the fires?’

She shook her head. ‘No. Jirokichi isn’t afraid of them. He’s afraid of someone else. Now please go. Maybe Jirokichi can tell you more when you find him.’

What Tora had learned was interesting, if not very helpful, but he retraced his steps, returning to the eastern city and the Fifth Ward.

Each ward in the more densely populated areas consisted of sixteen blocks arranged in a square and had a gateway on its southern periphery. The Fifth Ward contained mostly the homes of lower-ranking government officials and a few wealthy merchants. The first fire Tora had encountered had been in the adjoining Sixth Ward, a commercial area, but even here, there was fear. He saw a small altar erected and fresh flowers and fruit before it, and a holy man with bells around his neck danced around it, singing songs as people watched.

Stopping at the warden’s office, Tora asked if any trouble had been reported the night before.

The warden was eating his midday rice and was not inclined to be interrupted by someone wearing threadbare clothing. He shook his head and continued chewing.

‘Did you see or hear of any gangs of rowdy boys hanging about?’

Another shake of the head.

‘I know they were busy in the Sixth the other night. They knocked me down as they ran from the fire there.’

The warden frowned, swallowed, and said, ‘You the one tried to save the Kaneharus?’

News clearly traveled between wardens. Tora said, ‘That would be me. My name’s Tora. You keep yourself well informed.’

‘My business,’ said the warden, taking another bite and chewing thoughtfully as he studied Tora.

‘So? About those gangs?’

‘No gangs in
my
ward.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘I’m sure. No gangs here. No trouble.’ The warden was becoming angry at the imputation that he did not keep good order.

Tora sighed. ‘Thanks. Enjoy your meal.’

He wandered about for a while. Most of the houses were substantial, and quite a few had steep roofs. He asked people on the streets if they had heard any fighting or strange noises during the night. Mostly, the answer was no. People slept at night, and their sleeping quarters were in the backs of houses. One maid, who was airing out the family quilts, claimed she had heard screams, but her mistress shouted from the door that the girl was given to nightmares.

Tora left after that, feeling that he had done more than enough for Jirokichi and his troublesome girlfriend. What was he doing anyway, helping a common burglar? Jirokichi would turn up safe and sound, and Tora would give him back his gold.

End of story.

He left by the covered gateway that led out on to Rokujo Avenue, a broad street that passed between the Fifth and Sixth Wards. On the steps of the gateway sat an old beggar on a pile of rags. He held out an empty wooden bowl to Tora. The man was blind, his eyeballs bluish white below thin lids. Tora dropped a couple of coppers in the bowl.

‘Thank you, thank you,’ muttered the beggar, bowing from the waist in the general direction of the passer-by. ‘May the Buddha bless you, sir.’

‘You’re welcome, uncle.’ Looking at the beggar’s emaciated figure, Tora asked, ‘Have you eaten today?’

The old man thought this over, pushing his lips in and out in concentration. ‘Not today,’ he finally decided. ‘But I’ll eat now.’ He grinned, revealing a few yellowed teeth, and shook the bowl, making the coins rattle around inside.

Tora felt a little ashamed of his small gift. ‘Do you live nearby?’

The beggar nodded and pointed over his shoulder.

‘You live in the Fifth Ward?’ Tora thought that extremely unlikely. Wealthy people tended to keep beggars out of their neighborhoods.

‘There’s a hole in the wall of the gate. I sleep in there. Not bad in the summer, but I near froze to death last winter.’

Tora walked back under the roofed gateway and looked. Sure enough: there were a few loose boards in the wooden wall on one side. Perhaps a cart had backed into it and loosened them, and the beggar had helped matters along. Inside, he glimpsed more rags and an earthenware water pitcher. A thought occurred to him, and he returned to the beggar.

‘By any chance, did you see… I mean, did you hear anyone passing last night? Anyone who might have been in trouble? Or some young hoodlums?’

To his surprise, the beggar nodded. ‘Right. On both counts. Two boys going in. Recognized their voices from my hole. Talking about the Rat.’

‘The Rat? You mean an animal, or someone called the Rat?’

‘The Rat’s no animal. He’s a saint. He left me something when he passed by.’

Tora crouched beside the beggar, holding his breath against the stench that met his nose. ‘That was last night? The Rat passed you last night, and then the boys came?’

The beggar nodded.

‘Those boys, they’re the ones I mean,’ Tora said. ‘Did they come back out? Were they alone?’

‘Came back dragging someone. He was moaning. Don’t think they caught the Rat, though. He can make himself invisible.’

Tora’s heart beat faster. ‘Thanks, old man,’ he said, jumping up. ‘I’ll be back.’

He loped off looking for a food vendor. Near a bridge, he found a couple selling hot fish wrapped in cabbage leaves and rice cakes filled with vegetables. Spending nearly all his money, he bought one of each and ran back to the beggar.

‘Here,’ he said, placing the food in the beggar’s hands. ‘Eat. And then, if you can tell me where I can find those two boys, I’ll come back tomorrow with a gold coin.’

The blind man took the food with trembling fingers. For a moment he just sat there, then he muttered a choked, ‘May you live in paradise in the next life, young man. I don’t know where
they came from. They just came. I could smell them, and then I heard them talking.’ He extended the food. ‘Do you want it back?’

‘No, of course not. Eat.’ Tora crouched beside the beggar and watched him eat fish and cabbage leaf in large gulps, then take huge bites from the rice cake. ‘Slow down,’ he said, ‘or you’ll choke.’

The beggar promptly choked and turned nearly blue coughing. He gestured frantically behind him. Tora slapped his bony back, then recalled the pitcher and dashed to get it. It was half full of water. The beggar drank, caught a deep breath and wiped the tears from his face.

‘I’m blessed,’ he said. ‘If you’d left me, I’d be dead now.’

Tora saw nothing blessed about the beggar’s life, but did not say so. Instead he pursued the question of the hoodlums. ‘You said they just came. Have they ever come before?’

‘Maybe. I seem to remember the smell.’

Tora sighed. Putting his hand on the old man’s shoulder, he said, ‘Thanks, old man. Keep out of their way. They’d just as soon kill a man than walk around him.’

‘You’re right about that.’

Tora got up to walk away, then stopped and turned. ‘You recognized them by their smell, you said?’

‘Yes. People smell. You smell of baby spit. They smelled of malt.’

Tora grinned. The old man had a very good nose. Yuki had, in fact, spit up on his shoulder that morning. Malt, he thought. Malt is used by sake brewers. It was something. He thanked the old beggar again and went off whistling.