Masahiro’s excitement soared. Still unaware of his presence, Okaru stepped into the sunken bathtub. Masahiro heard footsteps. Cousin Chiyo came walking around the corner. She saw him, smiled, and started to speak. He sprang away from the bath chamber. Guilty shame flushed his face. Chiyo stopped, puzzled. Her glance moved from him to the bath chamber. She saw Okaru and said sharply, “Okaru-san. When you take a bath, please close the door.”
Masahiro heard Okaru say “Oh, I’m sorry” and Chiyo slide the door shut. He ran like a burglar caught in the act.
21
WHEN REIKO ARRIVED home from her trip to the convent, Chiyo met her on the veranda and said, “May I speak to you?”
“Of course,” Reiko said. “You can come with me to take Okaru to see Oishi. We can talk on the way there.”
Chiyo seemed to search for words. “I must talk to you alone. Now, if you don’t mind.”
“Well, then, let’s go inside,” Reiko said, “so you don’t catch cold.”
“Out here is better.”
“All right, now I’m curious,” Reiko said. “What is it?”
Chiyo said haltingly, “It’s about Okaru.”
“Has she done something to upset you?” Reiko wasn’t pleased to think that her friend’s dislike of her guest had worsened. She shouldn’t have left them alone together.
“This isn’t in regard to me.” Chiyo sounded unusually formal, constrained. “I don’t think Okaru is good to have around the children.”
“Because of her station in life?” Reiko couldn’t help being offended by Chiyo’s prejudice.
“That’s not what I mean,” Chiyo hastened to say, then faltered. “It’s her manners.”
“Even if Okaru’s manners aren’t perfect, I don’t think they’ll rub off on Masahiro or Akiko.”
“I’m afraid she’ll be harmful to them … in other ways.”
Reiko began to lose her patience. “She wouldn’t hurt them. Why, I saw her playing with Akiko yesterday, and she was so gentle and kind.”
“It’s not Akiko that I’m most worried about.”
“You’re worried about Masahiro?” Reiko was confused. “He can take care of himself.”
“Perhaps not as well as you think,” Chiyo murmured.
Before Reiko could ask Chiyo to say exactly what she meant, Okaru came out the door. Her lovely young face was bright with eagerness. “Oh, good, you’re back!” she said to Reiko. “Can we go and see Oishi now?”
Hirata walked up to the house, followed by Sano. Sano greeted everyone, then said to Reiko and Hirata, “The supreme court convenes in a few moments, and I have to testify. If you’ve got any new information for me, tell me now.”
Reiko cast a mystified glance at Chiyo, who gazed helplessly back at her. Whatever Chiyo was trying to tell her would have to wait.
* * *
SANO ARRIVED IN the palace to find the supreme court already seated. Once again Inspector General Nakae headed the row of Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s seven cronies, who included Lord Nabeshima and Colonel Hitomi. Magistrate Ueda headed the row of seven men facing them, with old Minister Motoori and Finance Superintendent Ogiwara. They had already begun to discuss the case, and Sano could see that the acrimony had grown.
“Greetings, Sano-san,” Magistrate Ueda said. “Have you anything new to report?”
Sano knelt at the end of the rows and bowed. “Quite a bit.”
“May it help us settle our differences before something regrettable happens,” said Inspector General Nakae, the squattest, surliest pumpkin in his patch.
Chamberlain Yanagisawa sauntered into the room. Sano felt a quick, hot leap of anger. The judges looked surprised. Magistrate Ueda addressed Yanagisawa in a voice that cloaked displeasure and hostility in politeness. “My apologies, but I must ask you to leave, Honorable Chamberlain. The supreme court’s proceedings are private and no outsiders can be present unless asked to testify.”
Yanagisawa smiled. “You shall make an exception for me.” His tone said that he outranked the judges, and anyone who objected to his behavior would pay. He seated himself at the head of the two rows. Magistrate Ueda compressed his mouth in exasperation. Yanagisawa said with mocking courtesy, “Proceed with your report, Sano-san. I’m all ears.”
Sano thought that Yanagisawa couldn’t resist interfering with his work for the supreme court. Or perhaps Yanagisawa wanted to influence the verdict. But he might just be curious about how the court was progressing. At any rate, Sano couldn’t disobey an order from the shogun’s second-in-command.
Fortified with the information that he and Hirata and Reiko had collected and shared earlier, Sano began his testimony with the story that Kajikawa had told him about Lord Asano’s botched attempt to kill Kira.
“I’ll allow open discussion,” Magistrate Ueda said.
“So Kajikawa changed the statement he gave during the investigation into the attack,” Superintendent Ogiwara said in his theatrical voice. “Back then, he said Lord Asano gave no indication of why he attacked Kira. Now he says that Lord Asano called Kira corrupt.”
The inspector general grimaced as he scribbled notes. “But did he really? If so, Kajikawa should have said so back then.”
Sano could tell that Magistrate Ueda and Superintendent Ogiwara welcomed the news that Lord Asano’s attack might have been justified, but Inspector General Nakae and his side didn’t. Sano glanced at Yanagisawa. The chamberlain wore his smoothest countenance, but Sano knew he was displeased because Sano had unearthed new evidence.
Lord Nabeshima, seated beside the inspector general, scornfully discredited the castle keeper’s evidence. “There’s nothing to support the theory that Kira did anything wrong.”
“There is.” Sano relayed Lady Asano’s story, which Reiko had told him, of Kira’s campaign to destroy her husband.
“Deplorable,” said Minister Motoori from Magistrate Ueda’s side. He squinted, half blind but astute, his crippled limbs drawn up like gnarled twigs under his black robes. “Kira preyed on a weak, unstable man. He drove Lord Asano to a mental breakdown.”
“I say that constitutes a legitimate quarrel,” Superintendent Ogiwara boomed.
“One in which Kira was the aggressor,” Minister Motoori clarified. “He goaded Lord Asano into attacking him. If Lord Asano hadn’t kept his mouth shut, he would have been excused and Kira would have been the one sentenced to death, for provoking violence in Edo Castle. The forty-seven rōnin wouldn’t have needed to avenge Lord Asano, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“The only information you’ve brought us about the quarrel comes from Lord Asano, secondhand,” Inspector General Nakae said to Sano. “Consider this: What did the first witness hear? Only a snippet of conversation between Kira and Lord Asano. And who is the second witness? She’s Lord Asano’s wife. She’s probably looking for someone to blame for his death and her hard life. She’s throwing mud on Kira, now that he’s not around to contradict her story.”
“Even if her story is true, the quarrel sounds like a personal feud to me,” said Colonel Hitomi, the inspector general’s ally. The old soldier sat with his cane across his knees. “What Lady Asano described isn’t a crime, and I wouldn’t call it corruption.”
“I agree,” Lord Nabeshima said. “Corruption involves crimes against the government.”
“I’ve found evidence that Kira’s campaign against Lord Asano was part of a crime against the government.” Sano told the story Hirata had heard from Toda the spy, of the goods confiscated from Ako Castle, the missing gold, and Kira’s discharged debt.
The judges were shocked wordless. Yanagisawa met Sano’s gaze. He slowly brought his hands together, then moved them apart, together and apart, in silent, mocking applause.
Magistrate Ueda recovered his voice. “So it’s possible that Kira goaded Lord Asano into drawing a sword in Edo Castle, in order to have his estate confiscated and steal his gold.”
“That’s what I would call corruption,” General
Hitomi said reluctantly. “The gold rightfully belonged to the government. Kira cheated the shogun.”
Inspector General Nakae narrowed his eyes at his ally who’d switched sides on him. “You’re being premature. Has Sano-san offered any proof for his theory? No. It sounds to me as if he’s fabricated the whole thing out of a few unconnected circumstances.”
“These could be the extenuating circumstances we’ve been looking for.” Superintendent Ogiwara’s large, protuberant eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “They could justify the shogun voiding his original decision to exempt Kira from punishment for the incident between him and Lord Asano.”
Minister Motoori said, “This is the one thing that would allow the shogun to change his mind without losing face: Kira committed a crime against him. Kira deserved to be punished.”
“You’re building a case out of air and nonsense!” Inspector General Nakae protested. “The theory is incredibly far-fetched!”
“Far-fetched or not, this is the best explanation for Kira’s actions that I’ve heard,” Magistrate Ueda said.
Sano watched Chamberlain Yanagisawa, who listened with a calculating look in his eyes. The judges who hadn’t spoken yesterday seemed even more inhibited today, by Yanagisawa’s presence.
“What do you think?” Sano asked Yanagisawa.
The chamberlain smiled at Sano’s attempt to learn where he stood on the issue. “I think the judges should vote.”
His opinion had the force of an order from the shogun. Magistrate Ueda looked vexed and said, “We’ll take a blind vote.” He ordered Inspector General Nakae to tear a sheet of paper into strips, give one to each judge, and pass around his ink brush. Yanagisawa frowned in annoyance because the magistrate had circumvented his ploy to find out the judges’ positions. “Write ‘condemn’ or ‘pardon,’” Magistrate Ueda said. “Then pass your votes to me.”
Fourteen judges took turns writing while they screened their papers with their hands. They folded the papers into tight little packets. Magistrate Ueda collected the fourteen votes, unfolded them, and divided them face up into two piles. “Six in favor of condemning the forty-seven rōnin this time. Eight in favor of pardoning.”
Sano felt his spirits rise; yet he wasn’t sure he believed in the evidence he’d presented that had swayed the court. Satisfaction showed on Minister Motoori’s and Superintendent Ogiwara’s faces. Lord Nabeshima looked appalled. Yanagisawa scrutinized the other judges, who kept their expressions carefully blank.
Inspector General Nakae burst out, “All of you who changed your vote to pardoning the forty-seven rōnin, you’re damned fools!”
“Rule number five,” Magistrate Ueda said. “No rude language in the courtroom.”
“The hell with your rules!” Nakae retorted.
“Rule number six,” Magistrate Ueda said calmly. “Anyone who breaks the rules will—”
“Be thrown off the court?” Inspector General Nakae said, incredulous.
Lord Nabeshima came to the aid of his comrade. “You’d like to get rid of us, wouldn’t you? But you can’t. The shogun put us on the court. We stay unless he says go.”
“—will be escorted to a separate chamber, and will communicate with the other judges via written notes,” Magistrate Ueda finished.
Inspector General Nakae rose. An angry blush suffused his face; he looked more like an overripe, moldy pumpkin than ever. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”
Lord Nabeshima stood, too. As he and Nakae loomed over Magistrate Ueda, he said, “You’re exceeding your authority.”
Sano felt the threat behind their words and the hot flare of their tempers. Colonel Hitomi reared up on his knees; Superintendent Ogiwara hopped into a defensive crouch, like a Kabuki actor playing a samurai ready for combat. The other judges recoiled in consternation. Even Yanagisawa looked unsettled. Was the supreme court about to self-destruct in a brawl?
Magistrate Ueda remained seated and unruffled. “Guards!” he called.
Four soldiers appeared, so quickly that Sano figured they’d been stationed nearby, trying to eavesdrop on the court.
“Take them to the east reception room,” Magistrate Ueda said.
Inspector General Nakae and Lord Nabeshima spluttered in indignation, but they went. A hostile silence followed their departure. Sano could tell that Magistrate Ueda’s high-handed action had offended other judges besides them. His heart sank because the quarrel boded as ill for him as for the court’s proceedings.
“The court will take a recess,” Magistrate Ueda said. “We’ll reconvene in an hour and try again.”
As everyone rose and filed out the door, Yanagisawa bumped shoulders with Sano. “It looks as if the judges won’t be able to reach a verdict at all, let alone one that pleases everyone.” He smiled a smug, vicious smile. “Lady Reiko and the children are sure to miss you when you’re gone.”
22
CHIYO ASKED TO be excused from the trip to visit Oishi. Reiko didn’t press her to go. It was better to keep Chiyo and Okaru apart than increase Chiyo’s dislike of Okaru or let it spoil Okaru’s pleasure.
Reiko felt bad because Okaru had come between her and Chiyo. She had a dilemma on her hands: She owed her loyalty to her friend and relative, but she couldn’t abandon a person in need who was a guest in her house. She must fulfill her promise to help Okaru.
Goza took Chiyo’s place inside the palanquin. The servant was dour and silent, but Okaru could hardly contain her ebullience as they rode through the city.
“I can’t wait to see Oishi!” Okaru smoothed her hair, which she’d pinned up and studded with paper flowers. “Do I look all right?”
“You look lovely,” Reiko said.
“It’s been so long since Oishi and I were together. I feel as if we’ll be strangers when we meet. Oh, Lady Reiko, what will I do?”
Reiko hardly felt qualified to give advice. “Just act natural, I suppose.”
Their procession reached the Hosokawa clan estate, which looked cold and unwelcoming, set amid bare trees, the snow on its roof grayed by soot. Okaru gasped with awe and said, “This is where Oishi is in jail? It looks like a palace!”
A servant escorted Reiko, Okaru, and Goza into an elegant reception chamber in the mansion. “I’m so nervous,” Okaru said, fidgeting with her clothes. When they heard footsteps in the corridor, she cried, “It’s him!” She leaped to her feet as Oishi entered the chamber.
He wasn’t what Reiko had expected. Her imagination had built the leader of the forty-seven rōnin into a giant with a face like an iron war mask. But Oishi in the flesh was smaller, older, and clearly not in good health. His strength showed only in his eyes. They had the hard, fiery light of steel heated in a swordsmith’s forge. He favored Okaru with a scowl that must have been the last thing Kira had seen before Oishi cut off his head.
Okaru didn’t notice. She flung herself at Oishi and threw her arms around him. She wept while murmuring endearments.
His arms shot out, breaking her grasp as if she were a flimsy vine that had twined around him. Okaru stumbled backward.
“My love?” she said, her smile faltering. “What’s wrong?”
“What are you doing here?” Oishi demanded.
The jubilance in Okaru’s eyes dimmed. “I—I wanted to see you.”
She took a step toward him, but Oishi raised his hand to fend her off and said, “You shouldn’t have come.”
Okaru gazed at him with hurt disbelief, like a child slapped for no reason. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”
Reiko couldn’t believe Oishi’s cruelty, either. She heard a low growl from Goza. The servant’s face had taken on the look of a watchdog whose owner is threatened.
“That should be obvious. I never want to see you again.” Oishi turned to leave.
With a wail, Okaru lunged after him. She tripped on her skirts, sprawled, and grabbed Oishi’s ankle. “My love, why are you treating me like this?”
Oishi kicked savagely at her. “Let go!”
Appalled, Reiko hurried to Okaru and touched her shoulder. “Come away before you get hurt.”
Goza stalked toward Oishi with her fists clenched. Okaru hung on, pleading, “Don’t you love me anymore?”
“I never loved you.” Contempt edged Oishi’s voice.
“But—but—” Okaru pulled herself, hand over hand, up his leg. “You promised we would marry someday.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Don’t you remember?”
Oishi laughed, a chortle filled with disgust. “I never meant any of those things.”
Shock loosened Okaru’s grip on him. She sat back on her heels. “You lied?” she said in a tiny voice.
“That’s right.” Oishi seemed to relish the pain he was causing. Reiko’s admiration for him turned to revulsion. “I only told you what you wanted to hear.”
“But why?”
“I was using you,” Oishi said with brutal honesty. “You were part of my act.”
“Act?” Okaru shook her head in confusion. “What act?”
“To make myself seem like a no-good, drunken bum. To make Kira think I’d forgotten about avenging my master. And it worked. I fooled Kira. He’s dead. And I don’t need you anymore.” He averted his gaze from Okaru, as if she were dog excrement.
“No. I don’t believe it,” Okaru said, even as her eyes widened into dark pools of pain. “You weren’t acting, I would have known. You were in love with me. You still are.”
“Stop!” Oishi raised his voice over hers. “Face the facts. I wasn’t in love with you. I’m not now. My wife is the only woman I love.”
His last statement silenced Okaru like a hand closed around her throat. Her mouth opened and closed, emitting strangled gasps before she managed to say, “Your wife? But you divorced her. You said you didn’t care about her. You said I was the one…”
“I only divorced her to protect her, you silly little fool,” Oishi said. “So she couldn’t be punished for anything I did. If not for that, we would still be married.”
The Ronin's Mistress: A Novel (Sano Ichiro Novels) Page 18
