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visitors left.
    *
    Outside again, Tora said eagerly, “What a weird fellow! If the rest are like him, we’ll find all sorts of mysteries here. What do you suppose would bring a learned man to live like beggar? The food he bought was rotten. I bet he begged for it.”
    Akitada winced. “This is not a happy place. Far from having found a peaceful hermitage, the professor suffers hunger and spends his time contemplating his misfortune.”
    “I think a man should keep active and go among other people. Sitting around in one small room, brooding over his misfortune, isn’t healthy. Maybe that’s what made the lady end her life.” He shot Akitada a sidelong glance.
    “I thought you were convinced a crime had been committed. If you’ve changed your mind, perhaps we should return home now. I wouldn’t mind some peace and quiet in my room.”
    Tora looked guilty. “Well, now that we’re here, let’s see what the others have to say first. Better get the job done properly or Secretary Nakatoshi will be disappointed.”
    Akitada sighed, but he turned to look across the gardens. Seeing part of a tiled roof beyond the dense mass of trees, he said, “If I’m not mistaken that’s the lake pavilion over there. Let’s have a look at Lady Ogata’s quarters.”

5

The Student
    The pavilion, for all its distance from the main house and its location in an untamed jungle of plants and vines, was a far more elegant abode than the professor’s room off one of the galleries. Akitada wondered what this might suggest for Lady Ogata’s importance or her closeness to the abbot. Tasuku was his own age, and the lady had been in her twenties. It was an age well past the time when women were courted, but she was younger than Tasuku. She could well have been his lover, for apparently she had been beautiful.
    And what better place to stash away a lover than this hidden pavilion on his own estate? The abbot could visit any time he wished without exciting comment, yet hardly anyone would know about the woman waiting for him here.
    Tora voiced the same thought. “Nice place for an occasional cuddle,” he said, grinning.
    They climbed the steps to the door. Perhaps the interior would offer more clues to the lady’s character and her relationship to the saintly abbot.
    When Akitada pushed open the door, he thought he heard a sound inside, but the room was empty when he stepped inside, Tora at his heels.
    “She didn’t have much,” Tora commented, looking around at the bare floor and the two clothes chests pushed against one wall. There was also an empty clothes rack and a small bare writing desk.
    Akitada said nothing. Tamako had owned four trunks for her clothing, one for each season of the year, and her pavilion had contained many more things for her comfort. Thick tatami mats had covered her floor, and there were cushions to sit on. For her enjoyment, she had had several finely painted screens, book cases filled with books, writing desks and utensils, scrolls of paintings and all the more useful items such as candle sticks, braziers both for heating the room and for heating water for tea, water containers, mirrors and cosmetics boxes and so forth. All of these comforts were lacking here. He wondered how Lady Ogata had eaten and where her meals had come from. Had she gone out like the professor to buy a small prepared meal from a stand or a peddler? Who had supported her? The abbot? Where were her servants? Had there been at least a maid?
    Tora went to fling open the shutters and let in more light. The dark floor was badly scuffed and dusty. Both Akitada and Tora raised their eyes to the beams overhead.
    “The police report said she’d climbed on one of the trunks to reach the rafter,” Tora said. “I guess someone put it back.”
    The floor was scratched and showed where the trunk on the left had been dragged to the center of the room and then back again. Akitada eyed the scratches, then walked across to inspect the trunk. He started