Death on an Autumn River Read Online Free PDF Page A

There was little left of former splendor.  Beyond the fishing boats tied up at the quay, gray-roofed wooden buildings on stilts stretched along the waterfront. The land was flat for half a mile or so, then began to rise slightly toward green hills.  There, among the trees, he saw a few blue-tiled, curved roofs of more substantial buildings — temples, mansions, and administrative offices probably.  A straight road led from the harbor.  
    He took a deep breath of the air filled with smells of saltwater and fish.  The gulls swooped for fish entrails dropped overboard by fishermen who were readying their catch for market.  On his left was a building flying the flags of an official post station.  He left his and Sadenari’s bags there and took the road into the city. 
    It took him past the housing of the poor and open fields and eventually brought him eventually to the tree-shaded compounds of the well-to-do.  He paused at a gate with flags and signs marking it as the district prefecture.  The complex was well-maintained and included a number of large buildings, probably the jail and guards barrack.  Across the street was the Foreign Trade Office.  It was smaller in size but the compound also included several buildings.
    The gatekeeper directed him to a hall that looked like a venerable building perhaps dating back to a time when Naniwa was an imperial capital.  It was now in rather poor repair with the lacquer peeling from its columns.  Akitada climbed the wide stone steps and walked through open double doors.  The building appeared to be empty.  He gave a shout, and after a moment, footsteps approached.  A pale and serious young man in a black robe approached with a deep bow. 
    “Welcome, sir,” he said, checking Akitada’s rank ribbon with a glance.  “His Lordship is in his office.  May I announce you?”
    “Secretary Sugawara from the Ministry of Justice.I left my baggage at the post station.”
    The young man looked momentarily startled, as well he might.  Ranking imperial officials did not arrive on foot and alone.  But he caught himself and bowed again. “You are expected, my Lord.  Someone will bring your things.  Please follow me.” 
    He showed Akitada into a large room, containing numerous boxes, crates, and piles of bundles.  The bundles were tied with ropes, and the wooden chests bound with metal and secured with enormous locks.  An amazing assortment of loose odds and ends — casks, lacquer ware, scrolls, porcelain, piles of silk fabrics, and leather goods— was piled so high and wide that, at first, he thought he was in a large and poorly organized treasure house.  He cleared his throat.  That raised a grumble from beyond the pile.
    A deep voice growled, “More interruptions!  How many times do I have to tell you fools that I’m busy.  What is it this time?  Who’s there?”
    “Sugawara.  From the Ministry of Justice,” Akitada snapped back, irritated by the tone.
    “What?” 
    A clatter, an “ouch,” then quick steps.  Given the voice, a surprisingly small man shot around the corner of the pile and peered at him.  “Amida,” he said, flapping his hands apologetically.  “I thought those rascals were playing another joke on me.  You really are Sugawara.  At least, I take it that you are, because you said so.  It must be so. Unless those rascals have hired one of those good-for-nothing actors.”  He laughed nervously.  “You aren’t an actor, are you?”
    It was hardly a proper reception, but Akitada was amused.  “No.  And who are you?” he asked, suppressing a smile.  This little man with the voice of a giant wore a green silk robe, somewhat stained across the chest.  His head was nearly bald except for a thin braid twisted on top and tied with a large amount of silk ribbon, perhaps to give the few gray hairs more substance.
    “Nakahara, at your service.”  The short man peered more closely at Akitada’s face and said, “Hmm.  Can’t be