Black Lotus

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “You were supposed to go to Zj Temple in the morning. Why are you so late? Has something happened to you?”

  For a mere instant, Masahiro ceased his tantrum. His flushed face smeared with tears, mucus, and drool, he regarded his parents with curiosity. Then he let out a tremendous bellow, thrusting his arms toward Sano, who lifted Masahiro from Reiko’s lap and cuddled the damp, feverish child.

  “I persuaded Haru to talk,” Reiko said. “After what I heard, I had to investigate further.”

  Masahiro squalled as Sano clumsily rocked him. At last Sano gave up and handed his son to the maids. He said to Reiko, “Let’s talk elsewhere.”

  They went to the parlor, which was chilly; the charcoal braziers hadn’t been lit. A draft swayed the hanging lanterns. From the nursery drifted the muted sounds of Masahiro’s wails. Reiko explained that Haru didn’t know the victims and couldn’t remember anything about the fire or why she’d been at the cottage, then described her bruises.

  “I think Haru was an intended victim of the arson. She’s afraid she’ll be attacked again, and executed for the crime. She’s all alone in the world.” In a voice laden with compassion, Reiko explained how Haru’s parents had died and moneylenders had seized their noodle shop in Kojimachi. “I promised her I would try to clear her of suspicion and find the real arsonist.”

  Obviously, an emotional bond had formed between Haru and Reiko, blinding Reiko to the possibility that the girl was indeed guilty of the crimes. Sano thought of what he’d learned today, and a sinking sensation weighted his heart.

  “My congratulations on breaking Haru’s silence,” he said, easing into a discussion that he feared would cause discord. Encouraged by the glow of pride on Reiko’s face, he said cautiously, “However, before we draw any conclusions about Haru, we need to examine other evidence.”

  “What evidence is that?”

  Reiko’s posture stiffened. The weight in Sano’s heart grew heavier as he perceived that she was upset at the idea that he didn’t share her inclination toward Haru’s innocence. He regretted the necessity of telling her something she probably wouldn’t want to hear.

  “I met Commander Oyama’s family,” Sano said, then related what he’d learned. “The elder son’s story about Oyama introducing him to Haru indicates that Haru did know at least one of the victims, despite what she told you.”

  Although Reiko neither moved nor altered expression, Sano could feel that she was shaken by his news, and appalled to think that Haru had lied to her.

  “Oyama’s son wants someone punished for his father’s murder,” Reiko said. “Maybe he fabricated that story about Haru because she’s an obvious suspect.”

  “She’s the only suspect,” Sano amended. “Commander Oyama’s death caused his family much harm and benefited them not at all. My detectives spent the whole day at the temple and haven’t discovered evidence to place anyone besides Haru at the scene.”

  “Just because your men found nothing doesn’t mean that other suspects and evidence don’t exist,” Reiko said. “The Black Lotus sect clearly benefits from Oyama’s bequest and is trying very hard to control the investigation and incriminate Haru. After I talked to her, I went to the temple, and as soon as I got there, the abbess waylaid me. I wanted to question the nuns and orphans about Haru, but she wouldn’t let me. And your detectives were having no better luck performing an independent investigation. They had Black Lotus priests following them like shadows.”

  “The priests were probably just assisting with their investigation,” Sano said, alarmed that Reiko had gone ahead on her own. “I found them very cooperative yesterday.”

  Nevertheless, Sano wondered whether this cooperation signified an attempt to hide compromising facts behind a guise of helpfulness. Was the Black Lotus indeed trying to misdirect the investigation? The thought disturbed Sano and increased his concern about what Reiko had done.

  “You shouldn’t have gone to the temple,” he said. “For you to poke around without my knowledge or permission could harm the investigation and my standing with the shogun.”

  “I’m sorry,” Reiko said, contrite.

  “And if there really is a killer at large, then it’s dangerous for you to wander around the temple alone.” Seeing Reiko’s frown, Sano said, “I have the results of Dr. Ito’s examination of the arson victims. All three were killed before the fire. The little boy was starved and tortured. His neck-was broken.”

  Reiko recoiled in horror. “How terrible,” she murmured. The sound of Masahiro’s whimpers drifted through the house. Then her expression turned sharply alert as she absorbed the news. “Could a girl as frail as Haru have smashed the skull of a man, strangled a woman, and broken the neck of a boy—all on the same night, yet—then placed all their bodies in the cottage to be burned? Under what circumstances could an orphan girl starve and torture a child? Dr. Ito’s findings strengthen the possibility that the killer is someone other than Haru.”

  His wife had a point, Sano realized: The scenario she described did sound implausible. “At this stage it’s too early to eliminate any possibilities,” he said, warning himself against prejudice. He could be wrong about Haru, despite what he’d learned today.

  “Well, if we’re looking for other suspects, then Dr. Miwa and Abbess Junketsu-in are good candidates. There’s something very strange about them.” Reiko described the sinister pair. “They both knew Commander Oyama. They were quick to offer alibis, and even quicker to cast suspicion on Haru.”

  Reiko told how the abbess and doctor had portrayed Haru as a troublemaker who suffered from spiritual disharmony, lied, fornicated, prowled at night, and had set the fire as revenge against the temple for disciplining her. Sano mentally tallied the information on Haru. To him, it was clear that the negative outweighed the positive.

  He said carefully, “Maybe the abbess and doctor are telling the truth about Haru.”

  “I don’t trust those two. Someone beat and bruised Haru; maybe they had something to do with it.”

  Reiko spoke with certainty, her back against a partition. Sano understood that his disputing her assessment of Haru had only caused her to cleave to the girl. He was troubled to see the case dividing him and his wife.

  “You think she’s guilty, don’t you?” Reiko said.

  “I won’t decide until all the facts are in,” Sano said, although he could tell that his hedging didn’t convince Reiko. “So far, there’s no evidence to say that anyone except Haru had a motive for the crimes.”

  “But there is.” Brightening, Reiko described her meeting with a novice monk.

  Sano shook his head in amazed disbelief. “That’s not possible. There’s no law against underground construction at temples as long as it doesn’t extend outside the religious district, but a sect couldn’t hide the kind of work you describe. The bakufu keeps tight control over the clergy. Officials from the Ministry of Temples and Shrines conduct frequent inspections of all temples. They would have discovered the imprisonment and mistreatment of the novices and children and disbanded the sects. And the metsuke watches for any activities that pose a danger to the country.” The Tokugawa intelligence service had spies everywhere. “Those priests who took Pious Truth away said he was mad. That sounds like a good explanation for his story.”

  Reiko’s chin lifted. “The fact that the child in the cottage was beaten and starved supports his claims. And his story provided a lead on the dead woman. Is there a better one?”

  “No,” Sano admitted “Hirata checked out a report on a runaway wife from the Suruga Hill district. He just told me that he went there and found her alive and well—she’d returned to her husband But the search has just begun. Maybe the woman is Pious Truth’s sister; maybe not. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

  He placed his hands on Reiko’s shoulders. “Please don’t be so quick to believe some things you hear and disregard others, or to take the side of a suspect.”

  Sighing, Reiko nodded, but she replied, “You said yoursel
f that it’s too early to eliminate any possibility. If there’s the slightest chance that Pious Truth is right about the Black Lotus sect, then we have to check into it. That’s why I want to go back to the temple tomorrow, with you, to find Pious Truth and look for the things he described.”

  Sano groaned. Women had such a propensity for remembering everything a man said and throwing it back at him! And the discussion had circled back to the issue of how much Reiko should do on the case.

  “Whatever investigation needs to be done at the temple, I’ll handle it,” Sano said. He hated to disappoint Reiko, but neither did he want her to endanger herself or steer the case in a dubious direction. “You’ve interviewed Haru. Your work is finished.”

  “Haru should hear Junketsu-in’s, Dr. Miwa’s, and Commander Oyama’s son’s statements about her. Her reaction might help us determine who’s telling the truth. Maybe by tomorrow, she’ll have recovered her memory. Maybe she can provide more information about the fire and the two unidentified victims.” Reiko reminded Sano, “I’m the only person she’ll talk to.”

  Her arguments were persuasive, Sano acknowledged. Haru, whether guilty or innocent, represented a key to solving the case. He needed Reiko’s help.

  “All right,” Sano said. “Go visit Haru again. But I want you to promise me that you’ll restrict your investigation to her and stay away from the Black Lotus Temple.”

  Reiko frowned, as if about to object, then said with winsome guile, “I promise—if you’ll promise to personally investigate Pious Truth’s claims.”

  Sano feared that the case was turning into a battle of wills. Although he hated to back down, compromise seemed necessary to forestall a war.

  “Very well,” he said. “You work with Haru. I’ll look for torture victims, underground tunnels, and evil plots at the Black Lotus Temple.” He added, “I think we’re both in need of relaxation. How about a hot bath before dinner?”

  Reiko gave him a strained smile, nodding. As they walked down the corridor together, Sano told himself that the case wouldn’t ruin their family harmony. Everything would be fine.

  9

  Through the power of expedient means,

  I shall pry living beings loose from false convictions,

  And induce them to follow the Law of the Black Lotus.

  —FROM THE BLACK LOTUS SUTRA

  Distant temple bells heralded dawn. Dressed in white kimono and trousers, Reiko stood barefoot in the garden, her hand on the sword at her waist, her face upturned toward a pale sky filmed with drifting gray clouds. The estate lay dark and quiet around her. Moisture veiled the air; dew pearled the grass. Reiko concentrated on the energy spreading from the spiritual center within her abdomen, through her whole body. With a sudden rapid motion, she drew the sword. She lunged and slashed in combat against an imaginary opponent.

  At first the sword felt cumbersome and her movements awkward from lack of practice. Soon Reiko was panting and drenched in sweat, but eventually she felt her skill returning. She resolved to train daily, as she had before her pregnancy. The ritual calmed her mind while building her strength. Now she could think objectively about last night’s talk with Sano, and she began to understand why she’d been so eager to refute evidence that raised valid concerns regarding Haru.

  Proving that her judgment was sound had become a matter of honor. Though she knew she shouldn’t let personal needs guide her, Reiko still trusted her own instincts and intelligence. Her suspicions about the Black Lotus fed her belief in Haru’s innocence.

  Reiko pivoted, ducked an imaginary strike, and lashed her blade against her doubts about her detective abilities. She and Sano would solve the case and deliver the real killer to justice, together.

  When Reiko arrived at the Zj Temple convent, a nun told her that Haru was in the garden. Reiko left her entourage outside the front door. Carrying a package she’d brought, she walked around the building. The clouds cast a gloomy pall over gravel paths and autumn grasses. The breeze carried the scent of rain; nuns gathered laundry from balconies. Then Reiko heard Haru’s voice—shrill, frightened—and a man’s gruff, threatening one.

  Reiko hurried around a cluster of pines and saw Hatu standing near a lily pond in the secluded garden, her back pressed against a boulder. A priest loomed over the girl.

  “Leave me alone!” Haru tried to squirm away, but the priest planted his hands on the stone surface on either side of her, preventing her escape.

  “You’ve had your chance to cooperate voluntarily,” he said. In his early forties, he was tall and strong; sinewy muscles corded his neck and bare arms. His domed head sloped to a low forehead, flat nose, full lips, and jutting chin. “Now I’ve run out of patience.”

  He clamped his big hand across Haru’s throat and shoved. The girl’s back arched; her head slammed against the boulder. She cried, “Help!”

  Reiko dropped her package, rushed over, and grabbed the priest’s arm. It felt hot and hard, like iron newly tempered in a forge. “What are you doing?” She saw scars crisscrossing his bare scalp, the most prominent one a raised seam that ran from the corner of his eye over his ear, ending in an incrustation of flesh that resembled a lizard. Revulsion filled Reiko as she tried to pull the priest away from Haru. “Stop!”

  The priest looked down at Reiko. Harsh lines carved the skin around his mouth. Heavy, slanting brows added menace to his frown. His arm shot out, flinging Reiko aside. Then he turned back to Haru, increasing the pressure on her throat.

  Choked cries emanated from Haru; she clawed at the priest’s hands. Outraged, Reiko drew the dagger strapped to her arm under her sleeve. She jabbed the priest’s back with the blade, ordering, “Get away from her!”

  He didn’t even flinch. He didn’t seem to notice Haru’s fingernails tearing bloody scratches on his hand. “You set the fire,” he said, bearing down on Haru. “Confess!”

  Haru’s face reddened; her eyes rolled in terror. Her voice emerged in a strangled whisper: “No!”

  Reiko didn’t want to injure the priest, but she had to save Haru. “Guards!” she called. Her five escorts came running. “Stop him!”

  In an instant, the guards had the priest pinned facedown on the grass. Haru crumpled beside the boulder, coughing and clutching her throat.

  “Are you all right?” Reiko asked, touching the girl’s shoulder.

  With a shaky, grateful smile, Haru nodded.

  Reiko bent over the priest, holding the dagger against his neck. “Who are you?” she demanded.

  Twisting his head sideways to look at Reiko, the priest regarded her with scorn, as though she were at his mercy, not the reverse. “Withdraw your weapon,” he said. “Release me.”

  His manner made it obvious that he would say no more unless she complied. Reiko sheathed her dagger and nodded to her guards. They hauled the priest to his feet and stood around him lest he try to attack.

  “Who are you?” Reiko repeated.

  “My name is Kumashiro.” He scrutinized Reiko with a hostile, unblinking gaze. His rough voice sounded like rocks shifting during an earthquake.

  “From the Black Lotus Temple?”

  The priest nodded curtly, although disdain twisted his mouth. “Who are you to ask?”

  “I’m Lady Reiko, wife of the shogun’s ssakan-sama,” Reiko said, observing the sudden wariness that hooded Kumashiro’s eyes. “I’m investigating the fire at the temple. What is your position there?”

  “I am second-in-command to High Priest Anraku, and chief security officer for the Black Lotus sect.”

  Reiko thought it odd that a Buddhist temple should be organized on such militaristic lines, or require a security staff. Did this have anything to do with prisoners, underground construction, and secret projects?

  “You’re a former samurai?” Reiko said, hazarding a guess based on Kumashiro’s scars, physique, and arrogance.

  “Yes.”

  “Whom did you serve?”

  “My clan are retainers to Lord Matsudaira, daimyo of
Echigo Province.”

  “What is your business with Haru?” Reiko gestured toward the orphan girl, who cowered against the boulder, biting her fingernails.

  Kumashiro’s contemptuous gaze flicked over Haru. “I was questioning her about the fire.”

  “The shogun has assigned my husband the job of investigating the arson,” Reiko said, stifling her anger. Kumashiro was obviously the common type of man who disdained women as inferiors, but she sensed in him an abnormal hatred for her sex. “You’ve no right to interfere.”

  “The safety of the Black Lotus sect is my responsibility,” Kumashiro said, “as is anyone who harms its members or property.” He bared jagged teeth in an unpleasant smile. “You can save your husband a lot of trouble by going away and leaving Haru to me. I shall get her confession, and the ssakan-sama shall get the criminal he seeks.”

  Here was another official who seemed determined to pin the crimes on Haru. “How can you be so sure that Haru has done harm?” Reiko asked the priest. “Where were you when the murders were committed and the fire set?”

  A gleam of amusement in Kumashiro’s eyes told Reiko that the priest recognized her intent to cast him as an alternative suspect. “Between sunset and dawn, I made my usual three tours of inspection around the temple grounds, and spent the rest of the time in my quarters. My lieutenants can confirm this—they never left me.”

  Another dubious alibi that would be hard to break, Reiko thought unhappily.

  “Haru has admitted that she left the orphanage to meet Commander Oyama,” Kumashiro continued with an air of satisfaction. “She admitted that they were lovers, and they used the cottage for their illicit liaisons.”

  Shock hit Reiko like a fist to the heart. Even if Kumashiro had forced Haru to incriminate herself, Oyama’s son also claimed that Haru had been involved with the commander.

  “Is it true?” Reiko anxiously asked Haru. “Were you having an affair with Commander Oyama, in the cottage where he died?”

  The orphan girl ducked her head. Mute, with her face hidden behind lank strands of hair, she looked the picture of guilty shame. Reiko’s heart sank.