“What do you want?” His voice was shaky with fear. Sano recognized him as Oishi’s teenaged son, Chikara.
“Just to talk,” Sano said.
The seated ronin visibly relaxed. They thought he’d come to deliver them to their death, Sano supposed. They seemed less staunchly resigned to their fate than they had while standing over Kira’s head in the graveyard. Sano said, “Where is Oishi?”
“With Lord Hosokawa,” Chikara said.
“I’ll talk to Oishi,” Sano told his detectives. “You and Hirata-san will interview these prisoners.”
A scraping noise and the sound of quick, departing footsteps startled Sano. He looked at the empty space where Chikara had been standing. A partition that had been closed a moment ago was now open. Sano nodded to Hirata, who went after Chikara while the detectives settled themselves among the ronin. Sano went in search of Lord Hosokawa and Oishi.
He found them in the mansion, in Lord Hosokawa’s private office, a grander version of Sano’s own. Heat shimmered up through decorative grilles in the tatami floor, from braziers underneath. Furniture was spangled with gold crests. Oishi and Lord Hosokawa knelt at the desk, conversing over ledgers. When Sano entered the room, they raised their heads.
Oishi, like the other ronin, had washed, shaved, groomed his hair, and dressed in new clothes. His color had improved; he didn’t look as tired or ill. His fierce eyes burned brighter. He gazed at Sano, expectant yet cautious.
Sano exchanged bows and greetings with Lord Hosokawa, whom he knew slightly.
“Oishi-san has been giving me ideas for managing my finances.” Lord Hosokawa’s worried face took on a defensive cast. “They worked very well in Harima Province. I’m eager to try them in my domain.”
“I see.” Sano saw that Oishi had become friends with Lord Hosokawa overnight. He wasn’t surprised, even though Hirata had mentioned that Lord Hosokawa had balked at taking in the prisoners yesterday. Lord Hosokawa probably admired Oishi as an example of samurai loyalty and hoped that if he himself ever needed avenging, his retainers would rise to the occasion as Oishi had for Lord Asano.
“You’re not taking him away, are you?” Lord Hosokawa sounded upset by the idea.
“Not yet.” Sano explained about the supreme court and his investigation. “I have some questions for Oishi. Is there a place where he and I can talk in private?”
“Here.” Lord Hosokawa rose on tottery knees and left.
Sano knelt across the desk from Oishi. The ronin folded his arms. He reminded Sano of a falcon tethered to its perch but not tame. He calmly waited for Sano to speak first.
This interview was different from others Sano had conducted during past investigations. Then, his goal had been to figure out whether someone had committed murder. Now he was on unfamiliar ground, not knowing what he needed to find out and uncertain of what questions to ask. He let himself be guided by experience, which had taught him to learn every detail of a case that might clear up ambiguities and indicate a suspect’s guilt or innocence. Thinking back on the events that had led to the murder, he identified one ambiguity that he would like cleared up, even though he knew who the killers were.
“Why was Lord Asano so angry at Kira?” he asked.
Oishi’s slanted eyebrows twitched upward before he could hide his surprise: He hadn’t expected this question. But he immediately recovered. “Kira made Lord Asano’s life miserable.” His raspy voice was harsh but controlled. He swelled with portent, a man about to confide a long-kept secret. “I’ll tell you exactly how.”
1701 April
The first, fateful meeting between Lord Asano and Kira Yoshinaka took place on a cold spring afternoon at Edo Castle. The old master of ceremonies sat on the dais in his office and peered down his nose at Lord Asano, Oishi, and their attendants, kneeling below him.
“So you’re to be the host for the imperial envoys from Miyako?” Dressed in satin court robes, Kira was the picture of haughty elegance.
“Uh, yes.” Lord Asano was thirty-four years old but as socially awkward as a youth, and nervous whenever he had to leave his home province and appear in the capital.
“I am to instruct you on how to entertain the envoys,” Kira said, eyeing Lord Asano with disgust and condescension. “I’ll do my best so that you do not embarrass yourself or the shogun’s court.”
Oishi took a dislike to Kira. Lord Asano had attained the rank of daimyo at age eight, when his father died, and Oishi had taken a major role in raising him. Lord Asano was like a younger brother to Oishi, who hated seeing him disrespected.
Lord Asano cringed. “Many thanks, Kira-san.”
His fear seemed to disgust Kira all the more. Oishi had often told Lord Asano that he should fight back instead of meekly submitting, but he couldn’t. He ruled his domain ably enough under Oishi’s guidance, but he wasn’t cut out to swim with the sharks in Edo.
Kira preened because he’d cowed a daimyo rich enough to buy or sell the likes of him. He waited, an expectant look on his disdainful face. Lord Asano nodded to the attendants. They stepped forward, bearing gifts for Kira.
“Honorable Kira-san, please-please allow me to present you with a token of-of my appreciation,” Lord Asano said, blushing.
As Kira beheld the finely crafted jade vases and lacquer writing box, his face registered disappointment, then indignation. “Are you forgetting something?”
“… No,” Lord Asano said, puzzled.
Oishi realized that Kira wasn’t satisfied with the gifts, even though they were suitable for the occasion.
“Please allow me to mention that your success depends on me,” Kira said to Lord Asano. “I will ask you again: Are you forgetting something?”
Now Lord Asano understood that Kira was asking for a bribe. Objection lessened his fear. He was an honest man who deplored bribery. “I haven’t forgotten anything.”
Kira sat back in surprised confusion. Oishi saw him wonder if Lord Asano was too stupid to take a hint, then realize that Lord Asano had deliberately defied him. “Very well,” he said in a voice coated with frost. “Suit yourself.”
That night, when Oishi and Lord Asano dined alone together at Lord Asano’s estate in Edo, Oishi said, “You must bribe Kira.”
“No,” Lord Asano said, even though his hands shook so hard with anxiety that he fumbled his chopsticks. “I won’t surrender like a coward.”
“It’s my duty to advise you to bribe him and swallow your pride. If you don’t, Kira is bound to retaliate.”
“Let him.”
The next day, rehearsals for the ceremony began. As Lord Asano practiced marching up to the dais in the reception chamber where the imperial envoys would sit, Kira exclaimed, “You idiot! You’re supposed to take eighteen steps, not nineteen!”
Lord Asano faltered. “You told me nineteen steps.”
“No, I didn’t.” Kira grinned like a bully in a group of smaller children. He had the power of his position; he could destroy lives. Rumor said he’d done it often.
“Yes, you did,” Oishi said from his place by the door. “I heard you, too.”
He and Kira locked gazes. Oishi’s scowl told Kira that if he continued to play games with Lord Asano, he would have to reckon with Oishi. Kira responded with a sniff. His lessons continued to be so confusing, and so peppered with insults, that Lord Asano couldn’t learn the lines of his speech to the envoys.
“If he slips up during the ceremony, it will reflect badly on you,” Oishi told Kira.
“My reputation is unassailable,” Kira scoffed. “He will bear the blame for his mistakes.”
It was true, as far as Oishi could see. If Lord Asano refused to take Kira’s bullying along with the instructions, he must meet the envoys without any idea what to do or say. The audience at the ceremony would witness and scorn his failure. Lord Asano toiled and suffered under Kira’s tutelage, while steadfastly refusing to give Kira a bribe.