Read Online The Hell Screen by I. J. Parker - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: I. J. Parker
Tags: Fiction, Historical fiction, General, Historical, Mystery & Detective, Mystery Fiction, Japan, Government investigators, Nobility, Kyoto (Japan), Japan - History - Heian period; 794-1185
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head spin at the colors and patterns of silk and brocade which were offered for his inspection. His own needs were fairly easily met, but he lingered over the silks for Yoshiko.
The assistant was a graceful middle-aged woman of great patience. Akitada pleasurably pictured Yoshiko in a new wardrobe. A lovely deep rose silk which changed to paler pinks depending on how the light struck it seemed to him particularly elegant and youthful, but it was after all winter, and he eventually settled on a deep copper red. Then, on an impulse, he added the rose silk after all. Matching thinner silks for undergowns, five each, their colors complementary yet distinct, had to be selected next. The assistant brought the lengths of silk tirelessly, combining and recombining their shades in layers until he was happy with the results. The copper red fabric would cover layers of pale gold, lilac, sand, and moss green, while the rose silk would be lined in leaf green, deep red, light red, and white. Immensely pleased with his choices, Akitada paid another astronomical sum and had everything sent to his residence.
Poorer but happy, he stepped out into the street to the sound of bells. It was already time for the midday rice, and he decided to postpone visits to the other antiquarians, except for Nagaoka, whose house was on his way home.
The thought of home, reminding him of his mother, ruined his good mood. In addition it began to look more and more as though someone in Toshikage’s office was hiding the treasures for his own purposes. The thought raised unpleasant possibilities. Was it merely an attempt to get Toshikage dismissed and so win a promotion? Or was the thief bent on vengeance and planning to have the treasures discovered on Toshikage’s person or in his house? The offense of stealing from the emperor was serious enough to warrant public humiliation, confiscation of property, and banishment to a distant province. Toshikage’s family would suffer the same fate as he. While Akitada, by virtue of bearing a different surname, would not be involved, his sister Akiko and their unborn child certainly would share her husband’s fate.
Nagaoka lived in a quiet residential quarter, not quite for the “good people,” nor for mere tradesmen, either. His house was a typical wealthy merchant’s home on a double plot, hidden from the street by tall wood screening. A simple sign above the decorative doorway read, “Nagaoka, Antiquarian.”
Akitada raised his fist to pound on the fretwork gate, when it was suddenly flung open and he found himself face-to-face with an old acquaintance.
The expression on the other man’s face changed rapidly from surprised pleasure to acute suspicion.
“Kobe!” cried Akitada heartily. “What a coincidence! I intended to pay my respects eventually, but family matters have kept me occupied.”
“What are you doing here?” growled the other man, as usual bypassing politeness to get to the heart of the matter.
Akitada raised his brows. “Now, that is hardly a friendly greeting after all these years,” he said lightly. He realized belatedly that there was something quite different about the police captain: Kobe did not wear his customary uniform of red coat and white trousers. Instead he was attired rather formally in dark silk. “I was calling on the antiquarian for some information. But are you no longer with the police?”
Kobe’s face relaxed momentarily and a smile twitched his lips. “Promoted,” he said. “To superintendent.”
“You don’t say!” Akitada chuckled and bowed. “My sincerest congratulations. You deserved it.”
“Thanks. You did not do so badly yourself. Provisional governor. And you crushed a rebellion or two, I hear. The New Year should bring a generous promotion.”
“Not with my luck.” Akitada paused and glanced at a servant who had cracked open the gate and was listening with an expression of avid curiosity.
The assistant was a graceful middle-aged woman of great patience. Akitada pleasurably pictured Yoshiko in a new wardrobe. A lovely deep rose silk which changed to paler pinks depending on how the light struck it seemed to him particularly elegant and youthful, but it was after all winter, and he eventually settled on a deep copper red. Then, on an impulse, he added the rose silk after all. Matching thinner silks for undergowns, five each, their colors complementary yet distinct, had to be selected next. The assistant brought the lengths of silk tirelessly, combining and recombining their shades in layers until he was happy with the results. The copper red fabric would cover layers of pale gold, lilac, sand, and moss green, while the rose silk would be lined in leaf green, deep red, light red, and white. Immensely pleased with his choices, Akitada paid another astronomical sum and had everything sent to his residence.
Poorer but happy, he stepped out into the street to the sound of bells. It was already time for the midday rice, and he decided to postpone visits to the other antiquarians, except for Nagaoka, whose house was on his way home.
The thought of home, reminding him of his mother, ruined his good mood. In addition it began to look more and more as though someone in Toshikage’s office was hiding the treasures for his own purposes. The thought raised unpleasant possibilities. Was it merely an attempt to get Toshikage dismissed and so win a promotion? Or was the thief bent on vengeance and planning to have the treasures discovered on Toshikage’s person or in his house? The offense of stealing from the emperor was serious enough to warrant public humiliation, confiscation of property, and banishment to a distant province. Toshikage’s family would suffer the same fate as he. While Akitada, by virtue of bearing a different surname, would not be involved, his sister Akiko and their unborn child certainly would share her husband’s fate.
Nagaoka lived in a quiet residential quarter, not quite for the “good people,” nor for mere tradesmen, either. His house was a typical wealthy merchant’s home on a double plot, hidden from the street by tall wood screening. A simple sign above the decorative doorway read, “Nagaoka, Antiquarian.”
Akitada raised his fist to pound on the fretwork gate, when it was suddenly flung open and he found himself face-to-face with an old acquaintance.
The expression on the other man’s face changed rapidly from surprised pleasure to acute suspicion.
“Kobe!” cried Akitada heartily. “What a coincidence! I intended to pay my respects eventually, but family matters have kept me occupied.”
“What are you doing here?” growled the other man, as usual bypassing politeness to get to the heart of the matter.
Akitada raised his brows. “Now, that is hardly a friendly greeting after all these years,” he said lightly. He realized belatedly that there was something quite different about the police captain: Kobe did not wear his customary uniform of red coat and white trousers. Instead he was attired rather formally in dark silk. “I was calling on the antiquarian for some information. But are you no longer with the police?”
Kobe’s face relaxed momentarily and a smile twitched his lips. “Promoted,” he said. “To superintendent.”
“You don’t say!” Akitada chuckled and bowed. “My sincerest congratulations. You deserved it.”
“Thanks. You did not do so badly yourself. Provisional governor. And you crushed a rebellion or two, I hear. The New Year should bring a generous promotion.”
“Not with my luck.” Akitada paused and glanced at a servant who had cracked open the gate and was listening with an expression of avid curiosity.
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