Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [330]
“Yes, Mother.”
“Good-bye, Matahachi. See you again.” Looking dejected and ill at ease, Akemi hurried away.
Presently a lamp was lit, and the maid appeared with dinner trays and sake. Mother and son exchanged cups without looking at the bill, which lay on the tray between them. The servants, who came one by one to pay their respects, were followed by the innkeeper himself.
“So you’re leaving tonight?” he said. “It’s been good having you with us for so long. I’m sorry we haven’t been able to give you the special treatment you deserve. We hope to see you again when you’re next in Kyoto.”
“Thank you,” replied Osugi. “I may very well come again. Let’s see, it’s been three months, hasn’t it—since the end of the year?”
“Yes, about that. We’ll miss you.”
“Won’t you have a little sake with us?”
“That’s very kind of you. It’s quite unusual to be leaving at night. What made you decide to do that?”
“To tell the truth, some important business came up very suddenly. By the way, do you happen to have a map of Ichijōji Village?”
“Let’s see, that’s a little place on the other side of Shirakawa, near the top of Mount Hiei. I don’t think you’d better be going there in the middle of the night. It’s quite deserted and—”
“That doesn’t matter,” interrupted Matahachi. “Would you please just draw us a map?”
“I’ll be glad to. One of my servants comes from there. He can furnish me with the information I need. Ichijōji, you know, doesn’t have many people, but it’s spread out over quite a large area.”
Matahachi, a little drunk, said curtly, “Don’t worry about where we’re going. We just want to know how to get there.”
“Oh, forgive me. Take your time with your preparations.” Rubbing his hands together obsequiously, he bowed his way out onto the veranda.
As he was about to step down into the garden, three or four of his employees came running up, the chief clerk saying excitedly, “Didn’t she come this way?”
“Who?”
“That girl, the one who was staying in the back room.”
“Well, what about her?”
“I’m sure I saw her earlier in the evening, but then I looked in her room, and—”
“Get to the point!”
“We can’t find her.”
“You idiot!” shouted the innkeeper, his outraged face devoid of the oily servility he had shown a few moments ago. “What’s the use of running around like this after she’s gone? You should have known from her looks there was something wrong. You let a week go by without making sure she had money? How can I stay in business with you doing stupid things like that?”
“I’m sorry, sir. She seemed decent.”
“Well, it’s too late now. You’d better see whether anything’s missing from the other guest rooms. Oh, what a pack of dunces!” He stormed off toward the front of the inn.
Osugi and Matahachi drank a little more sake, then the old woman switched to tea and advised her son to do likewise.
“I’ll just finish what’s here,” he said, pouring himself another cup. “I don’t want anything to eat.”
“It’s not good for you not to eat. Have a little rice and some pickles at least.” Clerks and servants were running about in the garden and passageways, waving their lanterns.
“They don’t seem to have caught her,” said Osugi. “I don’t want to get involved, so I kept quiet in front of the innkeeper, but don’t you think the girl they’re looking for is the one you were talking to earlier?
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Well, you couldn’t expect much from somebody with a mother like hers. Why on earth were you so friendly with her?”
“I feel kind of sorry for her. She’s had a hard life.”
“Well, be careful and don’t let on that you know her. If the innkeeper thinks she has some connection with us, he’ll demand that we pay her bill.”
Matahachi had other things on his mind. Clutching the back of his head, he lay back and grumbled, “I could kill that whore! I can see her face now. Musashi’s not the one who led me astray. It was Okō!”
Osugi rebuked him sharply. “Don’t be stupid! Supposing you killed Okō—what good would it do our reputation? Nobody in the village knows or cares about her.”
At two o’clock the