“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 ronin 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 ronin 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 ronin, 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?”