Read The Crane Pavilion Online
Authors: I. J. Parker
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Historical Fiction, #Japanese, #Ancient Japan, #Historical Detective
The Crane Pavilion
An Akitada Novel
I. J. Parker
2014
I · J · P
Copyright 2014 by I. J. Parker
This book is a work of fiction. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission of the author or publisher.
Published by Ingrid J. Parker Inc. 2014; First Edition.
Cover design by I. J. Parker; Cover image by Ito Yakuchu.
Formatting: Polgarus Studio
Praise for I. J. Parker and the Akitada series
“Elegant and entertaining … Parker has created a wonderful protagonist in Akitada… . She puts us at ease in a Japan of one thousand years ago.”
The Boston Globe
“You couldn’t ask for a more gracious introduction to the exotic world of Imperial Japan than the stately historical novels of I. J. Parker.”
The New York Times
“Akitada is as rich a character as Robert Van Gulik’s intriguing detective, Judge Dee”
The Dallas Morning News
“Readers will be enchanted by Akitada.”
Publishers Weekly
Starred Review
“Terrifically imaginative”
The Wall Street Journal
“A brisk and well-plotted mystery with a cast of regulars who become more fully developed with every episode”
Kirkus
“More than just a mystery novel, (
THE CONVICT’S SWORD
) is a superb piece of literature set against the backdrop of 11
th
-cntury Kyoto.”
The Japan Times
“Parker’s research is extensive and she makes great use of the complex manners and relationships of feudal Japan.”
Globe and Mail
“The fast-moving, surprising plot and colorful writing will enthrall even those unfamiliar with the exotic setting.”
Publishers Weekly,
Starred Review
“…the author possesses both intimate knowledge of the time period and a fertile imagination as well. Combine that with an intriguing mystery and a fast-moving plot, and you’ve got a historical crime novel that anyone can love.”
Chicago Sun-Times
“Parker’s series deserves a wide readership.”
Historical Novel Society
“The historical research is impressive, the prose crisp, and Parker’s ability to universalize the human condition makes for a satisfying tale.”
Booklist
“Parker masterfully blends action and detection while making the attitudes and customs of the period accessible.”
Publishers Weekly
(starred review)
“Readers looking for historical mystery with a twist will find what they’re after in Parker’s latest Sugawara Akitada mystery … An intriguing glimpse into an ancient culture.”
Booklist
Pronunciation of Japanese Words
Unlike English, Japanese is pronounced phonetically. Therefore vowel sounds are approximately as follows:
“a” as in “father”
“e” as in “let”
“i” as in “kin”
“o” as in “more”
“u” as in “would”
Double consonants (“ai” or “ei”) are pronounced separately, and ō or ū are doubled or lengthened.
As for the consonants:
“g” as in “game”
“j” as in “join”
“ch” as in “chat”
Contents
“The Caretaker and the Artist”
“The Quiet Sadness of Autumn Rain”
“The Lady of the Crane Pavilion”
Characters
Sugawara Akitada
- government official between assignments
Yasuko, Yoshitada
- his daughter & son
Akiko
- his sister
Tora & Hanae
- his senior retainer & wife
Genba & Ohiro
- another retainer & wife
Saburo
- a third retainer, a former spy
Kobe
- Superintendent of the Metropolitan Police
Nakatoshi
- one of Akitada’s friends
Fujiwara Kaneie
- Akitada’s former superior, Minister of Justice
Persons involved in the case of Lady Ogata’s suicide:
Abbot Genshin
- a former friend of Akitada
Professor Suketada
- a retired university professor
Yoshizane
- a poor painter
Takechi Akushiro
- a poor student
Koshiro
- a caretaker
Seikan
- a nun
Soga Ietada
- Senior Secretary to the Prime Minister
Minamoto Masakane
- an exiled nobleman
Maeko & Shiro
- two children, sister and brother
Persons connected with the murder in the bathhouse:
Jinzaemon
- owner of the bathhouse Daikoku-yu
Sachi
- a blind shampoo girl
Nakamura Minobe
- a moneylender
Nakamura Manjiro
- his son
Yasohachi Saito
- his adopted brother and partner
Kanemoto
- a gangster
Hankei
- a gambler
Chiyo
, aka
Phoenix
- a courtesan
Kajiwara
- a poor schoolmaster.
1
Koshiro
Koshiro finished his bowl of rice gruel and set it down beside him. With a sigh of satisfaction, he looked across his garden where the cabbage, radish, and melon plants grew daily larger. The morning sun was quite warm already. It was autumn already, a time of clear skies and chills bringing the promise of winter. Then maybe he would hate his lonely life again, but just now, in this glorious morning sun, surrounded by birdsong and the scent of the rose bush, living in this small wooden house felt like a gift from the gods.
Peace.
Refuge.
And a new life.
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the sun-warmed boards. In a moment he would get up, wash his bowl, and start his chores. They were light, though the grounds were large. The owner hired workers for repairs and heavy work. Yes, Koshiro was blessed to have found this place.
And so were the others. He smiled. The student, the most recent arrival, still shied like a rabbit whenever they met. And he still feared every new arrival. But he was the only one. The professor was deaf, and the nun never paid attention. And the lady? Sometimes when there was a knocking, she got that look of longing on her face—as if she expected a lover to come and carry her away.
Koshiro hated that look. She was very beautiful, and it was to be expected that she should have known love and still wished for it. But she was here, as they all were. None of them would ever leave.
They would find consolation.
In time. Because time was all they had.
And each other.
He imagined himself and the lady becoming reconciled to their lives and to each other and smiled. There was hope. There always was hope.
And then he heard the children’s cries.
His eyes popped open. He looked in the direction of the sound but saw nothing beyond the lush green trees and shrubs where late shrubs still bloomed in shades of red. Getting to his feet, he shaded his eyes. It was quiet again. He decided the children had been at some silly game and relaxed again. They made a nuisance of themselves, but the lady loved children. He gave a low growl of irritation.
Picking up his bowl, he decided that today he must put his foot down and tell them to stop coming into the garden. When he straightened up, he saw them. Two small figures had burst from the trees, waving their arms and shouting.
Now what? They knew better than to bother him. He had let them know they weren’t welcome. He set the bowl back down, put on his most ferocious scowl, and started toward them.
The boy and girl were nine and ten respectively, the children of a woman who lived in the poor quarter across from the Takashina mansion. She was a widow who cleaned other people’s houses all day long. Ragged, thin, and left to their own resources, the children had climbed the wall and come into the garden to play. They reminded him of his own childhood, and he had been too permissive in the beginning. But his duties here meant that he was to guard the property against undesirable visitors, and it was only a matter of time before the professor or the nun would object to the noise of children and complain to the owner.
They were shouting “Come quick!” and “The poor lady!” Koshiro began to feel queasy and started to run
When they met, the children were babbling, their eyes wide with panic, and their arms flailing, pointing, gesturing. Something was wrong, though he could not make out what it was.
Lady Ogata occupied the Lake Pavilion, a graceful building overlooking a small artificial pond with
koi
and water lilies. Though she was noble and in her mid-twenties, Koshiro never thought of her without feeling desire. He himself was fifty years old and already had gray hairs among the black ones. But lust did not die with age, and a man had little control over his willful thoughts.
So Koshiro ran through the trees and bounded up the veranda steps of the Lake Pavilion. All was still. The shutters were closed except for one that stood partially open. He called out, “My lady? Are you all right? It’s Koshiro.”
There was no answer.
He pushed the shutter a little wider and looked inside.
The large, elegant room lay in deep shadow after the brightness outside. At first, he thought it was empty, its bare floor gleaming softly.
Puzzled, he blinked his eyes to adjust them. The little girl had caught up and was shaking his arm. “Look!” she cried. “Please take her down! Quick!”
He raised his eyes from the floor.
Something floated in the dim space, a dusky shape. A bundle of robes hung up to air? The silk gowns almost touched the floorboards and moved softly in the breeze from the open doorway. As he stared, the shape seemed to turn slightly toward him, and he saw a pair white-stockinged feet. They did not touch the floor.
In wonder, he stepped inside and went closer. That was when he realized that a woman was inside the robes. She was weightless, floating above the ground like one of the fairies in the western paradise.
He looked up, saw her face, and recoiled. It was Lady Ogata, but all of her beauty was gone. She looked shocking, her tongue protruding from her mouth like some huge slug, and her eyes rolled back so only the whites showed. Purple silk was looped around her neck and passed behind her head. It was tied around one of the rafters above. He muttered a prayer and reached for his amulet.
Lady Ogata hung, swaying and turning gently, while the little girl cried something and pulled at him. Swallowing down his nausea, Koshiro went to touch the limp hand. It was cold as ice.
“Too late,” he croaked, then turned away to run outside and vomit up his rice gruel.