capital and a niece or two in Nara, daughters of a sister he lost touch with. I assume one or the other will claim the property.”
“What will become of us?” she asked again, holding the child more closely.
Takechi patted her shoulder. “I’ll keep you in mind and will try to get you your pay, but I think your husband had better look for other work. And a place to stay.”
She nodded and started to cry.
Chapter Eight
Dead Men Don’t Speak
They returned to police headquarters and the adjoining jail. This jail was very different from the one Akitada remembered, where he had occupied the single cell in the old office. Now he found a separate building with an astonishing ten cells and assorted other rooms. Eight of the cells were occupied.
“Do you have this much crime in Otsu now?” he asked Takechi.
“This time of year we have more transients than at other times, and outlying districts send us their most serious criminals. Three judges reside in Otsu now, and our provincial headquarters can handle crimes much more efficiently than in the past. It’s a good thing, but it means more work for me.”
He headed for a door at the very back and opened it. Within lay a simple room, well lit by several open shutters to the outside. The floor was scrubbed wood, and rolls of bamboo mats were stacked against a wall.
But Akitada’s eyes fell on two men crouching over a body that rested on one of the mats near the opened shutters. One was young with a slender body and an intent expression on his face. He looked up with a frown at the interruption. Then his face cleared. “Ah, it’s you, Chief.”
The other was elderly and apparently an assistant or servant of the younger.
Takechi made the introduction. “This is Doctor Kimura, our coroner. Kimura, I brought Lord Sugawara along in hopes of clearing up this case quickly.”
Kimura stood and bowed. “An unexpected pleasure, my Lord. And an honor to meet the famous solver of crimes.”
Akitada said drily, “Thank you, but my interest isn’t personal. I’m here on behalf of the governor who could not come himself. I’m merely to report. Have you finished your examination?”
“All but the study of the dead man’s organs, sir.”
Akitada eyed him with considerable respect. Few coroners bothered to cut bodies open. “Does that mean you cannot tell how he died?”
The young coroner smiled. “Not with certainty. Though I should warn you that his organs may not offer much information either. Still, one must be thorough, right?”
“Right.” Akitada approached the corpse to peer more closely. The judge was not a pleasant sight. Naked and considerably aged since they had met ten years before, he was no longer merely well-nourished; he was fat, and the fat hung off his bones in ugly rolls. His skin was mottled, though Akitada saw no wounds of any sort. His face, marred by jowls and deep lines running from below his eyes to his chin, resembled that of a demon. The white hair was thin and showed the scalp underneath. His topknot, tight though it was, failed at keeping his features in place. Akitada straightened and asked, “What can you tell us so far?”
“As you can see, there are no obvious wounds to the front of his body. The back is similarly unmarked. Except for this.” He bent to raise the dead man’s head by the topknot and gestured to its back. “Feel just here.”
Both Akitada and Takechi felt. Akitada detected a slight swelling.
Takechi said, “It isn’t much. Did it bleed?”
“No. The skin isn’t broken.”
“Hardly a fatal wound then?” Akitada asked.
“No. But there is something else.” The coroner lowered the head and raised an eyelid. Takechi and Akitada bent to look.
“His eye appears to be bloodshot.” Akitada shook his head. “That can happen to a living man and is fairly common among the old, I think.”
“It isn’t just bloodshot,” Kimura said. “If you look closely, sir, you may see that the white part of the
“What will become of us?” she asked again, holding the child more closely.
Takechi patted her shoulder. “I’ll keep you in mind and will try to get you your pay, but I think your husband had better look for other work. And a place to stay.”
She nodded and started to cry.
Chapter Eight
Dead Men Don’t Speak
They returned to police headquarters and the adjoining jail. This jail was very different from the one Akitada remembered, where he had occupied the single cell in the old office. Now he found a separate building with an astonishing ten cells and assorted other rooms. Eight of the cells were occupied.
“Do you have this much crime in Otsu now?” he asked Takechi.
“This time of year we have more transients than at other times, and outlying districts send us their most serious criminals. Three judges reside in Otsu now, and our provincial headquarters can handle crimes much more efficiently than in the past. It’s a good thing, but it means more work for me.”
He headed for a door at the very back and opened it. Within lay a simple room, well lit by several open shutters to the outside. The floor was scrubbed wood, and rolls of bamboo mats were stacked against a wall.
But Akitada’s eyes fell on two men crouching over a body that rested on one of the mats near the opened shutters. One was young with a slender body and an intent expression on his face. He looked up with a frown at the interruption. Then his face cleared. “Ah, it’s you, Chief.”
The other was elderly and apparently an assistant or servant of the younger.
Takechi made the introduction. “This is Doctor Kimura, our coroner. Kimura, I brought Lord Sugawara along in hopes of clearing up this case quickly.”
Kimura stood and bowed. “An unexpected pleasure, my Lord. And an honor to meet the famous solver of crimes.”
Akitada said drily, “Thank you, but my interest isn’t personal. I’m here on behalf of the governor who could not come himself. I’m merely to report. Have you finished your examination?”
“All but the study of the dead man’s organs, sir.”
Akitada eyed him with considerable respect. Few coroners bothered to cut bodies open. “Does that mean you cannot tell how he died?”
The young coroner smiled. “Not with certainty. Though I should warn you that his organs may not offer much information either. Still, one must be thorough, right?”
“Right.” Akitada approached the corpse to peer more closely. The judge was not a pleasant sight. Naked and considerably aged since they had met ten years before, he was no longer merely well-nourished; he was fat, and the fat hung off his bones in ugly rolls. His skin was mottled, though Akitada saw no wounds of any sort. His face, marred by jowls and deep lines running from below his eyes to his chin, resembled that of a demon. The white hair was thin and showed the scalp underneath. His topknot, tight though it was, failed at keeping his features in place. Akitada straightened and asked, “What can you tell us so far?”
“As you can see, there are no obvious wounds to the front of his body. The back is similarly unmarked. Except for this.” He bent to raise the dead man’s head by the topknot and gestured to its back. “Feel just here.”
Both Akitada and Takechi felt. Akitada detected a slight swelling.
Takechi said, “It isn’t much. Did it bleed?”
“No. The skin isn’t broken.”
“Hardly a fatal wound then?” Akitada asked.
“No. But there is something else.” The coroner lowered the head and raised an eyelid. Takechi and Akitada bent to look.
“His eye appears to be bloodshot.” Akitada shook his head. “That can happen to a living man and is fairly common among the old, I think.”
“It isn’t just bloodshot,” Kimura said. “If you look closely, sir, you may see that the white part of the
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