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look?”
    “The captain made us search the house.”
    “But not outside?” They shook their heads in unison. “Well, get started. First the garden and then up and down the street. Look over fences and into weeds. Pretend you’re a killer and need to get rid of a bloody knife where it can’t be found.”
    They looked rebellious. The silent one said, “The captain didn’t say to do that.” The other tried to get clever. “If nobody can find it, Sarge, there’s no point looking.”
    Maeda just looked at them, and they left.
    They entered the house and walked down a dirt-floored corridor past a kitchen and a work room. The house smelled of stale food and dirt. The light was dim because the shutters had not been opened, but Tora stopped to stare at rows upon rows of wooden shelves filled with tiny people, some fully dressed, and others as naked as they were born. “What the hell?” he started, then he realized he was looking at dolls, at least a hundred of them in different stages of completeness. The house belonged to a doll maker.
    In the living quarters in back were four people.
    An elderly man knelt, his hands tied behind his back. His clothes were stained with blood, and he looked frightened. Two burly constables stood on either side of him. Captain Okata, the fourth man, faced them. He turned and scowled at Maeda. “About time you got here. You can take over now. We made a search of the house and haven’t found the knife yet. He has nothing to say about it. Knows nothing and has done nothing.” He grimaced. “It’s a disgusting mess up there.” He jerked his head toward the steps leading to the second floor. Then he stared at Tora.
    Maeda said, “We’ll take a look, sir. This is Lieutenant Sashima, the new governor’s inspector. He’s offered to help. He’s got experience with murder cases. And he requested assistance with some thieves who cleaned out the governor’s place.”
    Okata eyed Tora coldly. “The murder is solved. And since you have experience, you and your master will surely make short work of the thieves.”
    Tora controlled his anger. “Normally, we would, Captain, but we don’t have any staff. I’ve always been told we’ve been given two hands so they can wash each other. Maybe a little cooperation is in order?”
    “Coming from the capital, you people may not realize that here we’re used to taking care of our own problems. Thieves at the governor’s residence are the governor’s business, and investigating murders in Hakata is my business. Besides, I just told you we’ve got our killer.” He turned on his heel and walked out.
    “That’s it?” Tora looked after him. “Where is he going?”
    One of the constables snorted. “Home. Case solved. The old guy did it. We’re taking him in. Once he’s in jail, we’ll have the confession out of him in no time, don’t you worry.”
    The prisoner shivered uncontrollably.
    Tora asked, “Does that mean he denies killing his wife?”
    Sergeant Maeda sighed. “I suppose so. I guess it’s my case.”
    The doll maker looked to be about sixty and in bad health. Thin and stringy, he trembled and stared at the ground. He had large dried blood stains on his clothes and hands. The gray hair of his topknot had come undone and one side of his face was beginning to swell. Apparently the constables had beaten him already without getting a confession.
    Tora bent down to the man. “What’s your name?”
    No answer. The man’s teeth chattered. Since it was not particularly cold, he must be in shock.
    “Speak up, Mitsui!” The constable kicked him. “The bastard doesn’t want to talk, but we’ll see if we can change his mind.”
    Tora gestured to the man’s face. “Maybe he won’t talk because you punched him. I’ve always found that the best way to shut up a suspect.”
    The doll maker came out of his stupor. “I told them! I wasn’t here,” he wailed. “People can tell you I wasn’t. I was in Hakozaki, making a delivery. I