Jinzaémon of the Miuraya questioned her. Was it shinjū—a mutual suicide to insure happiness together in the next life? Had she really known the man before, and not pretended new acquaintance? Then, without mention of Sampei, she told the story of her vision, her certainty that inquiry would establish the truth of its accusation. Jinzaémon had no recourse. The Yoshiwara bugyō, with dōshin, was soon at hand. "To kill a man on such evidence...." But before applying torture he would question the victim. Chūdayu's case was hopeless. The liver was almost severed. Death was but a matter of an hour or two. During that time his ravings in delirium, his confession in lucid moments, added a new and momentous phase to the case in corroborating the tale of the oiran as to the strange vision. The bugyō did not dare to go further. He must consult those higher in authority. A hatamoto of the land was involved; one just favoured with appointment as tsukaiban (staff officer) to the suzerain. The machibugyō himself had no power in this case. Hence the affair—its nature and its proof—must be submitted to the waka-toshiyori, the officer of State in immediate charge of the hatamoto, their control and interests. Meanwhile the affair must be smothered and strict search made for the recent visitor Sampei, who had completely disappeared. Jumatsu readily was traced to the care of the house master (iyenushi) at Koumé. His tenant, on plea of business in Kai, had left the child with him. Thus they went astray, and thus failed to act. Meanwhile Shinano no Kami at last determined to send for and question Aoyama Shūzen. The seventh day following the retribution was reached—to the great enlightenment of these puzzled magistrates.[33]
CHAPTER XXVII
Aoyama wins his Suit
Aoyama's yashiki blazed with light. The guests looked around, at the many lamps, the waiting-women in dainty attire, the ornament of service and of substance; and then looked into each other's faces. The unseemliness of the thing was on the minds of all these dozen to twenty gentlemen. The body of the wife had hardly been carried from the house to the funeral pyre. It was true that grief was to be given no display in the samurai code. The new promotion offered excuse for its celebration. But on the whole this feast seemed an indecent exhibition of rejoicing. "Aoyama Uji is not the Shūzen of old. What has got into the man this past month?" Thus Okumura Shūzen spoke of his namesake. "Bah! It is the shadow of Kiku, the 'sewing girl.' Aoyama rejoices in thus replacing old material. May he get a better heir on her than his last. 'Tis said to be a monster!" Endō Saburōzaémon whispered, half in jest and half in a savage earnest of disapproval.
Ōkubo Hikoroku first broached the matter openly at table. "Aoyama Uji, is this not a strange meeting? Here we are, all members of the Gaman Kwai; as hatamoto, men close to the suzerain's knee and ready for the call to battle. But this—with the glitter of apparel in substance and women, it is show and feast for kugé (court nobles), a meeting to view the moon and its light upon the snow. Deign to explain." Aoyama smiled. He might have made some formal excuse for this eccentricity. Saburōzaémon spoke out for him—"Don't be obtuse, Ōkubo Uji. The one lacking here is the cause of the feast. O'Kiku Dono still delays. Is it not so, Aoyama Uji?" He spoke with cold certainty, a curious intonation in voice. Aoyama was black with a fury about to burst forth when Ōkubo sprang up. He looked around. "Just so! Wait but a moment. We'll have her here." Aoyama was turned aside, and would have detained him. "Hikoroku Dono, it is useless. Kiku is not in the yashiki." To the dubious look of astonishment—"It is fact. She was a vile disloyal woman. Breaking the holly hock plate, the trust gift of the Tōshōgu, this Aoyama put her to death. This shall be apology to the suzerain's House." Ōkubo sat down again in pure amazement—"For what is said one feels regret. The apology is made; but surely...." Endō Saburōzaémon laughed outright. He seemed with intention to egg him on. Ōkubo turned indignantly. "Why laugh, Endō Uji? Is the life of a human being to be put against a piece of porcelain?"—"Saburōzaémon laughs at your credulity, Ōkubo Dono. It is but a ruse to put us from the search. Kiku certainly is not far off."
Ōkubo danced up in a fury. This time he was not to be kept. "'Tis true! But the badger's lurking hole, the place where he keeps her, is known. Soon she shall be here." Defying Shūzen's wrath he and Endō left the room. Ōkubo was ahead. Throwing open the shōji of the maid's room he looked within. Ah! Standing by the closet in the dim light was the figure of O'Kiku. "Kiku, why are you here, not joining in the feast? The beauty and the lady, whose love seduces so stern a man as Shūzen to soft ways, is not to neglect the guests. Come to the banquet hall." He seized her sleeve. Said Saburōzaémon from the rōka—"Whom do you address, Ōkubo Uji?" He looked around the room. "There is no one here.... Kiku? You grasp a garment hanging on the clothes rack." It was true. Dazed and somewhat upset Ōkubo returned to the banquet room. Aoyama met defiantly the hard look of Endō, the inquiring question of Ōkubo—"Is it true Aoyama? Did you really value a human life against a plate, and kill her?"—"It is plain fact," was the answer.
Again the strange looks passed between the guests. Some shrugged their shoulders. Others looked at him and whispered. Some laughed, with glances at the frightened faces of the waiting women. "It's not to be believed," said the emphatic tones of Ōkubo. Suddenly a breath seemed to go round the room. Every light went out; except the one before Hikoroku. Dimly outlined by Shūzen's side could be seen the figure of O'Kiku. The wan face amid the long disordered dangling hair; the gore smeared face, and neck, and bosom, sent a thrill and shudder through those present. At the exclamations Shūzen turned. He saw her—"Vile jade! You too would reproach Shūzen. A cut for you!" He sprang up, dagger in hand to cut her down. Then followed a wild scene with the raving man. The maids sought to avoid death; happily with success beyond trifling injuries, for sight of a woman made him frantic. Surrounding Shūzen the men drew him on. From behind Ōkubo, Okumura, Endō rushed upon him. Overpowered he was secured. With the madness of the host the banquet came to an end. As they left Ōkubo said to Endō Saburōzaémon—"Really Endō Uji, why so rough in speech with Aoyama? With those of one band quarrels are not to be sought."—"Nor will be," answered Saburōzaémon with a slight tinge of contempt. Then he added slowly—"There is a strange affair in Yoshiwara. The chamberlain of Shūzen, one Chūdayu, is involved; and Shūzen with him. This matter of Kiku threatens grave issue with the waka-toshiyori. It is said that the two murdered the woman—because both wanted her for concubine." He laughed harshly—"Why tell these facts to neighbour Ōkubo?" Said Hikoroku, with his blunt truth—"The sounds and sights from Shūzen's yashiki are not always pleasant. There are tales in the household of a night—that on which Shūzen's wife died. All there was in confusion. It is for fellow-members to protect the reputation of each other." Endō was rebuked in turn.
Shūzen was himself again. With the passing of the wine, the guests, the confusion, he was the cold, collected, dreaded master of a few hours ago. Respectfully the kerai withdrew. Left to himself he pondered the events of these hours. He recognized and measured the concentrated dislike expressed in the words and actions of Endō Saburōzaémon, egging on Ōkubo, irritating himself to desperation. To Shūzen it was a question as to just what was meant. At his age even in his caste men did not seek each other out to draw the sword. The issue was much more serious, involving disgrace. He would like to get at the inner motive of this fellow's action. How invaluable the aid of Chūdayu, who knew the ins and outs of the yashiki of all Edo, and particularly of his lord's intimates. But he had disappeared—as if the earth had swallowed him. Shūzen had condoned too many instances of the chamberlain's free use of his lord's funds, to come upon him harshly for any peculation. The man had been useful in many dubious actions; in bribery, solicitation, pimping, as a useful and facile witness. Chūdayu would worm himself to the bottom of this matter in short order.