Yūrei is wardering through the busy market the ground under his feet is mud that has been covered with hay and sawdust. It is clear they have had a lot of rain. Then he hears a lady call his name, he stops and walks backwards to her store. “Yes, you called.”
The lady comes around to him and points her hand towards his head. “That pin you are wearing belongs to the Fukuda family. That must mean someone survived.” The woman notices his eyes have narrowed and he is leaning more towards her. This prompts her to give him a bit more information, “Their house was sadly burnt down two nearly three days ago. Mr and Mrs Fukuda along with Master Shimizu, who their daughter was supposed to marry, were tragically killed. The police are treating it as murder. It is very strange why such a quiet family were killed. Excuse me.” She bows to him and returns to her store to serve a costumer. “You will find the house that way.”
The Great Warrior sees she is gesturing her hand towards the main road out of town. He bows to her and continues on his way, hopping over the occasional puddle. It is not long before he is seeing the burnt remains of what was once a grand house. When the wind blows across it seems to carry with it a sent of a fragrant oil. The Masked Warrior decides to follow it and he discovers around the back of the house are the remains of small barrels. Then he hears the sound of a horse and someone dismounting. He rises to see through the burnt rafters it is a police offer.
“It really is you, Yūrei Samurai,” he says with a slight shake to his voice. “I-I mean, your highness.” He performs a deep bow.
The legend laughs and shakes his head. “Please call me Yūrei, officer?”
“Detective Saitō,” answers the man, performing another bow.
The Great Warrior walks over to him and begins to tell him about the lady he found in the fields near his town and expresses, “I cannot believe she survived her injury. Something drove that girl to find me even if it killed her. That is why I am here to discover what happened.”
The Detective is shocked and also a little baffled why the woman chose to find the king rather than turning to the police. “What about the horse, were able to find it?”
“To be honest I did not even see one for the files were covered in mist. I only spotted the girl because of these glowing vials. I doubt I will get anything from it other then the obvious a blood socked saddle and the fact that it has been traveling for two days. Why seek me?”
“Perhaps she feels her life is in danger and you are the only man she could turn to, to keep her safe.”
Yūrei nods in agreement. “That is a possibility. I should ask what have you been able to find out so far?”
Detective Saitō places his hands upon his waist and shakes his head. “I have never had a case like it,” he expresses with a slight sigh. “There is nothing to explain why someone wanted to kill the Fukuda family or Master Shimizu. His family are of course devastated with the loss of their son and want answers… Answers I just do not have.”
The Great Warrior crouches down and picks up a piece of wood despite being wet the sent of the oil is still very strong. “Well, all we have here is someone used oils that you would find at a bathhouse. Anyone reported some of their barrels have gone missing.” When the Detective shakes his head the king continues, “Not surprising giving how many they must get through in a day. I guess all we will have to check each one.”
“Yūrei, there are twenty bathhouses…” the mortal sniffs the air, “I cannot believe even after the rain we have had over the past two days, how potent it still is. I would say that is more for a ladies, rather than a man's oil.”
The Masked Warrior rises, he places his right index finger under the man’s stubble chin to lift his head. “Ooh, come now I can see you enjoying a lady rubbing you down with something a little more fragrant.”
Detective Saitō’s cheeks turn pink and he emits an awkward cough. “Well, I guess so.”
The legend pats the side of the man’s face. “So, we need to find a bathhouse who caters for both gender in one building.”
“Ah, that takes our number down to around half,” informs the Detective with a bit of a relieved smile.
The Great Warrior turns his attention to the shadows that are being cast by a group of trees. “Death, I wondered when you were going to turn up.”
Detective Saitō is shocked when a youth dressed in a black Kimono comes stepping out. “Do not worry, I have not come for you Saitō Akito. I came to inform, darling, the mortals who died here are hanging around in limbo. And you know that is not normal.”
“No, it goes to show they cannot move on until I solve this case. I take it neither of them can tell you anything?”
Death shakes his head. “As far as they know no one had a grudge against them. I even asked the boy if there was perhaps another admirer who was not pleased about him choosing Kayoko. He is sure there is no one else.”
“Ah, that’s the girl’s name,” says the Masked Warrior, going on to tell him about the lady reaching the fields. “I know she is going to fine otherwise I think you would have turned up before now.”
“You are correct. I wonder why she was so desperate to find you? Hopefully she might explain that when she recovers. I promise you, darling, if they do remember anything, even if it seems insignificant I will inform you.”
“Thanks, old friend.”
Death performs a slight bow and sinks back in to the shadows.
Detective Saitō points his hand at the trees and questions with fear in his voice, “Th-that was really… really Death? And you a-re friends with him?”
“Indeed I am,” answers Yūrei, crouching down. “If we are to work together you are going to have to get used to him just appearing.”
The Detective swallows hard at the idea of working along side with the angel of death.
The Great Warrior starts to survey the broken barrels. “Akito, come on focus, lad. Has anyone been here over the last two days?”
This helps snap the mortal out of his fear and shakes his head. “No, no, we are the first to return since this happened.”
The Masked Warrior rises, he runs his boot through the thick ash and mutters, “Echoes.”
Detective Saitō is a little baffled and questions, “I’m sorry, what do you mean echoes?”
“Sorry, I should explain, then I’m thinking that’s just going to make you more confused. I will be right back.” Then the legend is gone only to return a moment later with Zhìhuì.
“I might not be able to pick up on anything, Son, fire and echos do not mix.”
“I understand, Mother.”
The Detective cannot believe his eyes and mutters, “Dreamer.”
Zhìhuì giggles and nods. “Yes I am. Now I need you both to remain still for just a moment.” He goes on to place his hands together and closes his eyes. “I am seeing the fire and people trying to help. It is proving difficult giving it is dark and the soft wind is not helping matters. The people know it is hopeless… The building should not have gone up that quickly… it is really intense.”
“The oil could have been poured all along the covered walkways.”
“Ah, you forget, Son, no one heard anything. Surely someone would have heard splashing.”
“Wait, they could have thought it was one of the staff cleaning in time for the engagement celebration,” suggests the Detective, seeing them nod in agreement makes him pleased they also consider the idea.
The Dreamer points his hand towards an outbuilding. “I see someone entering that… bathroom, I take it?” He watches the mortal nod and smile. “Well, that same person is running over to the other outbuilding, and leaves on a horse. It is hard to tell in the dark… I would guess it might be the girl. I take it you have followed those other footprints in the mud, that are leading around the back of the stable?”
“Yes, my men did and they lead in to the hills where they were lost because it began to rain,” answers Detective Saitō. “It was clear in the daylight from the broken ivy on the wall and leaves on the ground, some of which had been ripped, that someone was hiding down the side of the building, using it as cover. I was thinking they must have some means of getting the barrels to the house, for the attacker could not have carried them all that way.”
Yūrei shakes his head. “No, I think we will find they were already here, most likely under the house, and that is why it went up so quickly. No one would question a house this size ordering enough lamp oil to last them for months, even a year. The fragments we are finding here at the back, could be what is left over from storage and once lit it became a nice match. Some of it could be bath oil, we cannot rule it out, the ladies might have felt more comfortable having a bath at home, especially when they have a young daughter to think out. That is another thing, a large house like this, I was expecting to hear Kayoko had siblings.”
“Now we are thinking alike,” remarks the Detective. “I was expecting over the past two days to have brothers or sisters coming into the station to find out what happened. Come to think of it, the elder staff seemed to hesitate before they answered. Could this be revenge for someone being removed from the family?”
“Interesting thought. I think I will have a chat with the older male staff.”
Akito walks over to his waiting horse and takes hold of the reins. “Allow me to take you to Mr Tanaka, he is the one in charge of the boys.”
The gods nod and walk with him back to town and through the market to a small building where he goes on to knock on the door. A few minutes later it slides back and an elderly lady is surprised to see who is standing on her doorstep. “Your highness,” she says with a bow.
The Masked Warrior gently takes her arm and shakes his head. “Please there is no need for that. I am here to speak to your husband.”
Mrs Tanaka gives a few nods and steps back to allow them to enter. Once they have removed their boots she continues to show them through to a sitting room where an old man is seated sipping tea. Mr Tanaka quickly rises and performs a deep bow, “Your highness.”
“Yūrei,” says the legend, taking hold of the man’s shoulders making him rise. “You have been with the Fukuda family a long time?”
“Yes, your grace, almost fifty years. I cannot hide it any longer. I am sorry Detective I kept it from you.”
“It is all right, when you have all had a shock.”
Yūrei helps the elderly couple to sit down by the fire and Mr Tanaka continues, “There is a son and it is such a shame I have no idea where he is. Ayumu was twelve years old by the time his little sister was born. She was only three when he was banished.” The elderly man rises and begins to pace. “I personally think the father over reacted… he refused to hear the boy’s side of the story, like I did. Ayumu had been caught in a storm and a kind man gave him shelter. When Hirohito, that’s the father, heard the name Nakagawa Katsuhito he got angry and grabbed his son. It took quite a few staff to get Hirohito off the boy and that is when he ordered him to get out, that he was no longer a member of the Fukuda family. Poor Kumiko, that’s the mother, was beside herself and could not understand why her husband reacted the way he did. She got the head maid Moriko to discover from Mr Nakagawa how he knew Hirohito. The trouble is Mr Nakagawa was already gone and he has not been seen since.”
“You are right that was a tad extreme. Were you able to find out more about this Mr Nakagawa?”
Mr Tanaka sits down, he folds his arms and his scowl deepens. He starts to stroke his beard and answers, “He seems to be a kind man who is happy to help any one. I would say the young women quite like him because he is a fit man and some describe him as handsome.”
The Great Warrior emits a soft laugh. “So, he is young?”
“No far from it. Forgive me, I should have said the women say for an older man he certainly very fit and quite attractive.”
“Ah, I see. Can you give us more of a description?”
“Yes, he is tall, with a strong physique with a neat top bun. The woman told me he has very tidy facial hair and his eyebrows had been neatly plucked. This is one of the reasons I ask ladies for they take a lot more notice than us men in someones appearance. I informed them if it was a pretty girl then us men would take time study her,” implies the elderly man with a chuckle to his voice.
“You are not wrong there,” answers Detective Saitō. “Were they able to tell you anything else?”
Mrs Tanaka points her right index finger to her left cheek. “I remember you telling me, one of the girls noticed he had a scar upon his cheek?”
Mr Tanaka nods. “Thank you, my dear. Yes, he has a deep scar upon his cheek bone and another that is running into his beard on the right side of his jaw. What was the last thing?… Oh, yes, I remember now earrings, beautiful pale blue pearls that matched his Kimono. He wore a light grey topcoat and Hakama that were tucked in to a pair of white boots.”
The lady starts to shake hear head and points out, “My husband is forgetting the other key feature about Mr Nakagawa is, he is left handed, for he not only wears his Tanto on his right hip, he also holds his chopsticks in his left hand. Now this could be natural or it could be down to the injury he has sustained on his right hand. The poor man is missing his little finger and the section down to his wrist is badly scared. He must have had it a long time as it does not bother him people staring at it, he just carries on.”
“Well, that makes him easy to spot,” implies the Great Warrior. “Thank you for your information.”
Zhìhuì rises, he places his hands behind his back and theorises, “Mr Fukuda knows Mr Nakagawa’s secret… Now I am not saying he is, I am just throwing the card on the table. I think we will discover Nakagawa is not into women and Fukuda thought that he had deflowered his son. Why else would he over react like that? Then again Mr Nakagawa could be into women and he just happens to like earrings and looking perfect. Also he does not sound like a man who would take advantage of either sex and is a very respectable man.”
“Come to think of it that is what the boy said about him,” informs Mr Tanaka, “that Mr Nakagawa was a perfect gentleman. He gave him a hot bath, a warm Yukata and a hearty meal. He told me that Mr Nakagawa was worried about him catching a chill, sitting with wet hair, so he helped him to dry it. He told me the whole time he was with him it felt like Mr Nakagawa was treating him like a son.”
“So, neither of you have seen the boy since he was banished?” The Dreamer questions, watching the elderly couple shake their heads and he can sense they are worried about him.
Mrs Tanaka takes hold of the king’s hand. “The boy would not kill his family despite what happened. He just left. I think Mr Sakai who runs Endless Rāmen might be able to tell you more about Mr Nakagawa for he liked to eat there.”
Yūrei softly pats the back of her hand. “In that case we will pay him a visit and grab a bite to eat. What do you say, Mother?” When Zhìhuì does not reply the Masked Warrior goes to him. “Mother, what is it?”
The Dreamer frowns and places the side of his right index finger to his lips. A moment later he folds his arms and responds, “I am not sure. I am seeing a cloaked person, for it is hard to tell their sex with them being wrapped up against the cold and wet. Going on the colours, I would say it is our man Mr Nakagawa who is entering your hometown, Son. However, I cannot be sure.”
“I understand, Mother, thank you for the warning.”
“You’re welcome, Son. Come, let’s go and grab some noodles. Detective, care to join us?”
Akito nods and smiles. “I could go for some Udon.”
They make sure the elderly couple remain where they are by the warm fire and see themselves out, where Detective Saitō leads the gods over to a large building that is half full with people and a young lady shows them to a table that lies in front of a window which overlooks a garden that has low lying hedgers, some of which are partly covered in winter honeysuckle.
“It is no good I am going to have to get out of this armour,” moans the Masked Warrior. “I will be right back.” He disappears through a portal to Tower Island to return a a little time later dressed in a thick light blue Kimono, deep red topcoat and dark grey Hakama. He has also changed his mask the other one which exposes his mouth.
Zhìhuì pats the Zaisu, a chair without legs, next to him. “Feeling better?”
“Much better, that armour is a nightmare to sit in. This is more comfortable.”
“Good. By the way I ordered your favourite Rāmen.”
“Thank you, Mother. Has the owner been over yet?”
The Detective leans slightly forward in his seat and whispers, “He does keep looking our way… Ah, here he comes. I think he was waiting for you to return.”
The owner is a late middle aged man who is dressed in a simple Kimono with a white headband to keep his long fringe back and the sweat from going in to his eyes. He performs a deep bow. “Welcome, your highness, to Endless Rāmen.”
“Thank you. This is my mother, Zhìhuì, we are here investigating what happened to the Fukuda family.”
“I am afraid I cannot help you for the family never came here. Well, the son did once to thank Mr Nakagawa before he left. That night Mr Nakagawa never came for his usual. My wife and I miss him, he was a great entertainer and he really enjoyed playing the Biwa, correction Pipa. When he played it made this place fall silent and the place has not been the same since. I am not kidding some of his songs made people cry. He was often asked to play, 'Hopeless Love'. It was a song about forced marriage and not being allowed to be with the one he truly loved. It was clear from some of his songs he had lived through quite an ordeal. Yet not a single one mentioned what had happened to his hand. For it had all the appearance of a nasty battle. I will get my wife to tell you what he said to her,” informs Mr Sakai as he rises and trots off.
“That explains his neat appearance,” expresses the Dreamer in a soft voice. “He could have worked in the theatre.”
“This is turning out to be very interesting,” whispers Detective Saitō, he notices a lady is on her way over.
“Your highness,” she says, performing a slight bow.
“Please sit, my dear, and tell us about Mr Nakagawa.”
Mrs Sakai takes a seat on a cushion and replies, “He was lovely and was not shy to tell you about his hand.” She starts to laugh and quickly calms herself. “Recalling it always makes me laugh, for it is quite a funny story. He held his right hand up near his face and pointed at it. Then he smiled and said, 'This is my own stupid, foolish fault. I had just had a bit too much to drink and decided to walk along the rocks near the shore. He raised his eyebrows and remarked, 'You can see where this is going? It was the middle of the night, pitch black and there I am skipping and hopping over rocks humming a tune as I go. He sighed before he continued with a slight shake of his head, 'The next minute I slipped and down I went. Crack! I hit the left side of my head badly on a rock and it was pouring with blood. Also my cheek was cut and I could feel I had done something to my ribs. It was not until I tried to get up when I realised something terrible had happened to my right hand. It was shooting blood all over the damn place. It was that which got me to my feet and somehow I made it to a Healer and gave him quite a shock'. He went on tell me it was a week later when he awakened in a lovely room, with the sun streaming through an open window. His right hand was completely healed and it stands as a reminder that he could have died that night and it was purely his own fault. Then he looked at his hand and went, 'Ahh, the joys of youth', and laughed. I really do miss him and I hope one day he does return.”
“Thank you for telling us that story. I hope to discover what happened to both of them and the family,” says Yūrei with a smile.
“You are welcome. Ah, here comes your meals,” she answer as she rises.
A young lady places each bowl down on the table a long with a pot tea and three cups. Then she bows and walks away with Mrs Sakai.
“My, I was not expecting it to be an accident which left him with only three fingers,” expresses Detective Saitō in a soft voice.
“Me neither. I was hoping to hear an epic battle,” implies the Great Warrior, picking up his bowl of Rāmen. “Or a battle with Mr Fukuda which could have opened up another possibility.”
Zhìhuì laughs and remarks, “There are already too many of them as it is. All you can do, Son, is hope either the lady or the clocked man can tell you more.”
“I agree with you, Mother,” answers the Great Warrior and begins to slurp his noodles. “Ooh, this is good.”
They all go on to eat their meals and the Detective pours them a cup of tea. He is so pleased to have such a man on the case which has given him so many different leads. Yet there is still nothing to help solve one of the strangest murders he has ever experienced. Then he realises the place has fallen silent and the strings of a Pípá being picked in a wave fills the air.
ns 15.158.61.17da2
