The Crane Pavilion by I. J. Parker Page A

right?”
    “Don’t call him an evil abbot, and I don’t think anything of the sort. Really, Akiko, you jump to conclusions much too fast to make a good investigator.”
    Her eyes shone. “Then you’ll let me help?”
    He sighed. “Very well, but you must promise to be discreet. We can’t afford to offend the abbot. He seems to be a favorite with the court.”
    “I promise. Not a whisper of his secret shall pass my lips.”
    Akitada’s lip twitched. “That shouldn’t be hard, since you don’t know what it is.”
    She smiled. “I don’t know it yet. Well, what can I do? I mean besides finding out what I can about this Ogata person?”
    “That will be quite enough for the moment. She was known as Lady Ogata, so is most likely a member of one of the good families. She was in her mid-twenties, and is said to have been very beautiful.”
    “At that age? Who said so?”
    His sister was a shrewd observer of female looks.
    “My information comes from a middle-aged caretaker, a young student, and an elderly professor. Perhaps they overlooked her age.”
    He had joked, but she took him seriously.
    “Yes. And all are male. Women have sharper eyes. Who’s the professor?”
    “His name is Suketada. He is retired. But there is also a painter. Surely he knows beauty when he sees it.”
    “They all sound dreary. And the student, I take it, is at that awkward age when his face is covered with spots?”
    It was true, but Akitada said, “You women are very hard on men. He’s just an ordinary-looking youngster.”
    “Very well.” She got to her feet. “I’ll see what I can do. Send for me if there’s any new information.” She eyed him a moment. “You look better. Good. I’m glad I took you out of that dreadful state of melancholy. Mind you take care of business.”
    She swept to his side to give him a quick hug, and was gone.
    Akitada sighed. He would hardly have any peace from now on. He looked about the dim room and at the dust on his desk. On an impulse he opened a lacquer box that held writing paper. Inside, hidden under blank pages, lay his letter of resignation from his position at the ministry. His post as governor of Chikuzen province he had resigned before leaving Kyushu. Presumably, the news had been transmitted to the government here. But he felt very ill at ease about this. The act of resigning and leaving his post without permission should long since have brought him his due punishment in the form of being called in to account, but nothing whatsoever had happened. The resignation from the ministry was presumably pointless, because he would be dismissed anyway. Only his friendship with the minister, Fujiwara Kaneie, had made him write out the formal letter. He had not sent it. Their friendship really required that he hand-deliver it.
    Here he was, ignoring his responsibilities in every conceivable fashion. Dabbling in the peculiar activities of someone from his past was hardly what was required. He sighed again. He would go to see Kaneie and apologize.
    He had barely come to this decision when there was a scratching at the door, and Saburo put his head in. “Do I disturb you, sir?” he asked, looking at him anxiously.
    “No.” Akitada added ungraciously, “It seems everyone else has been to see me today.”
    Saburo came in hesitantly and bowed. “It’s a private matter, sir. I can go away again.”
    More responsibilities. Come to think of it, Tora had mentioned that Saburo had found a girlfriend. Perhaps he, too, had decided to start a family. Akitada glanced despairingly at his resignation letter and closed the box.
    “Sit down.”
    Saburo sat. “This morning,” he started, “I went to visit a young woman in the city.”
    Her it comes, thought Akitada, but managed to nod encouragingly.
    “Her name is Shokichi. She earns a living by doing the make-up and hair of entertainers. Her good friend is blind and works as a shampoo girl at a bathhouse. Her name is Sachi. I didn’t know of this