Black Lotus

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “This morning I went to see Haru.” Although she feared how Sano would react to what she was going to say, Reiko managed to match his controlled manner. She described how she’d found Priest Kumashiro trying to force Haru into confessing. She explained that Haru had admitted misbehaving at the Black Lotus Temple but had reformed, and been forced into sex with Commander Oyama. “Kumashiro says he has an alibi, but he and Oyama were enemies. He seems more likely a killer than Haru. He actually threatened me. I believe Haru is in danger from him, so I took her to stay at my father’s house.”

  “You did what?” Alarm shattered Sano’s calm façade.

  “Haru was so afraid of Kumashiro that she wanted to run away,” Reiko said. “You wouldn’t have wanted me to let her go, would you? I had to put her someplace she would feel safe. My father agreed to take her in. What’s wrong with that?”

  Hirata frowned; Midori looked baffled. Sano drew and slowly released a deep breath, as though willing self-control. “Today I met Haru’s parents,” he said.

  Startled, Reiko said, “What are you talking about?”

  “Haru’s parents,” Sano repeated, adding with a touch of reproach, “are alive and well in Kojimachi. Haru isn’t an orphan at all.”

  “Oh. I see.” Badly shaken, Reiko said, “You’ve proved that Haru is a liar, but the fact that a person lied about one thing doesn’t mean she couldn’t be telling the truth about others.”

  “There’s more.” Sano told how Haru had been a disobedient daughter, married off against her will to an old merchant. “He and his servants died in a fire. Haru’s parents, the neighbors, and the man’s relatives believe Haru set the fire to kill her husband and free herself from the marriage. She took refuge in the Black Lotus Temple because her family disowned her. Whether or not Haru is responsible for the deaths at the temple, I fear you’ve installed a murderess in your father’s house.”

  Every sentence drove deeper into Reiko the undeniable knowledge that Haru was as deceitful as her enemies claimed—and possibly as evil. Nonetheless, Reiko glimpsed room for doubt in Sano’s story. “Did anyone actually see Haru setting the fire?” she said.

  “No,” Sano admitted.

  “Those people could be mistaken about Haru. Maybe everyone’s suspicion forced her to leave home and pretend to be an orphan. This new evidence against Haru is just as questionable as the evidence in the Black Lotus fire.”

  The expression on Sano’s face revealed that he’d already thought of this and didn’t appreciate her reminder of the weakness in his argument.

  Relief lessened Reiko’s fear that she’d misjudged Haru and endangered her father. “Haru could very well be innocent.”

  Sano nodded reluctantly, but said, “Haru’s past isn’t the only reason I believe she may be guilty.” He described Haru’s abuse of the orphans, and the two girls who’d seen her sneaking out to the cottage on the night before the fire. “It’s clear that she got there under her own power. I’ve almost finished questioning everyone else at the temple, and she’s still the only person who had cause and opportunity for arson.”

  While Reiko tried to hide her dismay at this new revelation, Sano spoke before she could frame a reply. “You can argue that those girls were jealous of Haru and wanted to get her in trouble, just like everyone else in the Black Lotus. Besides, they were near the cottage, too. They could have burned it. Why trust them instead of Haru? Because they weren’t found near the cottage during the fire.” Exasperation underlay Sano’s reasonable tone. “I checked into them, and they’ve no history of bad behavior, or of relations with Commander Oyama. Nor are they perpetual liars with a fire in their past. You must stop trying to dismiss evidence against Haru.”

  “I wish you would stop disregarding evidence against the Black Lotus,” Reiko said. The strife between herself and Sano frightened her, yet she saw no way to dispel it without backing down. She felt ready to abandon Haru, who’d betrayed her trust and was probably guilty of something, if not everything, but her surrender would mean letting the sect escape justice. “Did you investigate Pious Truth’s story?”

  “I did. I saw no signs of starvation, torture, murder, imprisonment, or underground secret projects. I’ve assigned men to spy on the temple, but I doubt they’ll find anything either. And I was unable to locate any novice monk named Pious Truth. Apparently, he doesn’t exist.”

  “But I saw him,” Reiko said, confused. “I spoke with him. He was real. Where is he?”

  Raising his eyebrows, Sano turned his hands palms up. “I did find a novice nun called Yasue. She was not only alive, but apparently happy at the temple. And she has no brother.”

  “That could have been a different person with the same name as Pious Truth’s sister,” Reiko said.

  Hirata cleared his throat. “Sumimasen—excuse me,” he said. “Today at police headquarters, I interviewed many citizens who say that the Black Lotus kidnaps children, enchants followers, and attacks families that try to get them back. Even if this person who called himself Pious Truth isn’t a novice at the temple, he may be right about the sect.”

  “There!” Reiko exclaimed. “Witnesses to confirm my suspicions.”

  “Haru’s guilt or innocence is a separate issue from whatever the sect has allegedly done,” Sano said to Hirata. “Hearsay about the Black Lotus doesn’t necessarily weaken the case against Haru.”

  “Yes, Ssakan-sama.” Hirata’s strained expression indicated that he wasn’t convinced, but his samurai loyalty required him to agree with Sano. “I just thought I should mention what I discovered.”

  “Who cares about you?” Midori blurted. Everyone turned toward her, surprised, as she addressed Hirata with disdain: “You’re not as smart or important as you think you are.”

  Hirata’s jaw dropped. Reiko noted with dour amusement that Midori had begun her new scheme to regain Hirata’s interest She could have chosen a better time, but at least she’d gotten his attention.

  Sano ignored this little drama. “Until we have more clues besides tales from superstitious peasants and mysterious vanishing monks that the Black Lotus is involved in illegal activities, we cannot charge them with any crimes.”

  “But we do have more clues,” Reiko said.

  She described Dr. Miwa’s and Abbess Junketsu-in’s criminal records. As she summarized her talk with Minister Fugatami, incredulity dawned on Sano’s face.

  “You barged in on the Minister of Temples and Shrines?” she said.

  “I was granted an audience. He wants you to go to Shinagawa with him tomorrow to investigate the latest complaints against the Black Lotus.” Reiko took the letter out from beneath her sash and handed it to Sano.

  He read it, and his expression darkened. Then he crumpled the paper. Rising, he paced the room, regarding Reiko as if she’d lost her wits. “Imposing on Minister Fugatami was a dangerous breach of propriety. Survival in bakufu politics depends on good relationships with colleagues. High officials are quick to take offense. How could you place my career and our livelihood at risk?”

  Reiko stood and followed Sano; Hirata and Midori sat watching them. “Please accept my apologies,” Reiko said, now aware of how seriously she could have compromised Sano. “But Minister Fugatami was glad to see me. I wish you would go to Shinagawa and decide for yourself whether the complaints are valid. Surely his opinion counts for something.”

  “Minister Fugatami has a reputation for being overzealous,” Sano said in an icy tone. “Many in the bakufu frown upon him as a fanatic because he has criticized, hounded, and tried to abolish sects that later turned out to be perfectly harmless and legitimate. Chances are, he’s persecuting the Black Lotus for no good reason as well.”

  Reiko had been so awed by Minister Fugatami that she hadn’t questioned his judgment Was he wrong to believe the peasants’ stories? Was she wrong to have believed him?

  “By approaching Minister Fugatami you obligated me to him.” Sano stopped pacing. “I can’t go to Shinagawa because that would furth
er obligate me to support his crusade whether or not I should. But if I don’t go, I’ll make an enemy. You’ve put me in a bad position.”

  Favors were the currency of the bakufu, and Reiko knew that Sano must pay his debts or lose the goodwill of colleagues. Guilt spurred her to reassure him. “Minister Fugatami asked nothing except a chance to convince you that he deserves your support. He understood that you might not be able to go. He said I could go in your place.”

  Shaking his head, Sano said, “Absolutely not. That would violate propriety, and you’ve done enough harm already.”

  Yet Reiko couldn’t waste the lead she’d discovered. “If I don’t go to Shinagawa, how will we get the truth about the Black Lotus?”

  Hirata suggested hesitantly, “I could go.”

  “No,” Sano said, his manner decisive. “Sending any representative is the same as going myself, with the same consequences. Besides, there’s no need for anyone to go. We’ll soon have a report from the surveillance team at the temple.”

  “By that time it may be too late,” Reiko said. In spite of Sano’s failure to locate Pious Truth, she still believed he was a novice at the temple, and in danger. “How many people must suffer before you intervene?”

  “If anyone has suffered, I’ll need evidence before I can take official action,” Sano said, “and the detectives are more likely to provide it than are complaints from the public. I shall wait for their report.”

  His tone defied argument, but Reiko said, “I’ll look around the temple after I see High Priest Anraku, tomorrow.”

  “We agreed that you would restrict yourself to getting information from Haru,” Sano reminded her. “You’ve already broken your promise.” Then suspicion narrowed his eyes. “Just how did you intend to get an audience with Anraku?”

  He wasn’t going to like the answer, Reiko thought unhappily. “Lady Keisho-in agreed to accompany me to the temple and order Anraku to see me,” she said.

  “You asked the shogun’s mother for this favor?” Now Sano’s face took on the dazed look of a man beholding the wreckage after an earthquake. “How could you have the nerve, especially when you know that her favors don’t come without a price?”

  Reiko knew all too well, but she said, “I think the investigation is worth it.”

  Sano stared at her, uncomprehending. “Why is that girl so important that you’re choosing her over your safety and my career?”

  “I’m not!” Reiko cried, but his question struck close to the truth. Though she loved her husband with all her heart, her choices had in a way placed Haru before him. Somehow, events had swept her beyond reason. Perhaps they’d affected Sano, too.

  “You’re at least as prejudiced regarding Haru as I am. May I ask why it is so important for you to condemn her without a thorough inquiry?” Reiko went on. “Are the shogun and the Council of Elders pressuring you to convict her?”

  She read in his eyes that he was indeed under pressure, and had a disturbing thought that Sano was no longer the principled, idealistic man she loved. She said, “Can you be forsaking truth and justice for the sake of politics?”

  Fury leapt in Sano’s gaze, and Reiko realized to her dismay that he’d perceived her rashly spoken questions as an attack on his honor. As she and Sano stood paralyzed, gazes locked, the air around them compressed into a dense, stormy space; Midori and Hirata watched them in helpless consternation.

  “I’m sorry,” Reiko stammered, aware that she’d had much else to apologize for recently, but nothing as bad as this. “I didn’t mean …”

  With slow, deliberate movements that betrayed his battle for control over his temper, Sano walked back to his desk and sat. His face hardened into a stony, emotionless mask. “I forbid you to go to the Black Lotus Temple or to Shinagawa,” he said in a quiet tone that vibrated with suppressed rage. “Now please leave me.”

  Numb with shock, Reiko staggered blindly from the room.

  Midori followed her. Hirata came hurrying down the corridor after them. “Midori-san,” he said, “wait. I want to talk to you.”

  “Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” Midori tossed her head.

  Trembling and sick inside, Reiko walked into her private chamber and knelt on the floor. Would that she could relive the past moments differently!

  Midori burst into the room. Radiant with joy, she exclaimed, “I did what you suggested, and it’s working!” She knelt near Reiko and giggled. “For the first time in ages, Hirata-san really noticed me.” Then she took a closer look at Reiko, and her jubilation subsided. “What’s wrong?”

  Silent weeping twisted Reiko’s mouth. How she envied Midori, who’d obviously understood little of what had happened in Sano’s office. How wonderful to be so young, frivolous, and absorbed in romance!

  Midori said soothingly, “The ssakan-sama was very angry, but don’t worry—he’ll forgive you.”

  Reiko wanted to believe Midori, but she couldn’t.

  “What are you going to do?” Midori asked.

  To restore peace with Sano, Reiko knew she should end her inquiries; yet circumstances had locked her into defending Haru, for right or wrong, in spite of everything she’d learned about her.

  “Tomorrow I’m going with Lady Keisho-in to see High Priest Anraku,” she said. “Afterward, I’ll travel to Shinagawa.” Resolve calmed Reiko; she wiped her tears on her sleeve.

  “But won’t that make the ssakan-sama even angrier at you?” Midori said, her face a picture of concern.

  “I’m afraid so,” Reiko said unhappily.

  Carrying on her investigation against his will might permanently estrange her from Sano. The knowledge chilled Reiko. But this case now involved more than just discovering who’d committed the crimes at the Black Lotus Temple. Sano had imperiled his honor by allowing political concerns to influence him. Reiko had a duty to protect it by convincing him to pursue real justice instead of seizing the quickest solution to the case, and to save his career by preventing him from making a mistake that would disgrace the whole family.

  And she was determined to find out the truth about Haru once and for all.

  “Then you’re going to disobey anyway?” Midori said.

  “I can’t stand by and see my husband ruined and Haru incriminated while a killer goes free,” Reiko said. The investigation had produced two alternative culprits—Haru or the Black Lotus—and Reiko felt justified in her choice, which her intuition still favored. “I must do what’s right.”

  “Then let me help you.” Eagerness lit up Midori’s eyes. “We can go out together tomorrow, and you can teach me to be a detective. We’ll show the men what we can do!”

  Humor leavened Reiko’s unhappiness. She smiled at Midori, who apparently saw the situation as a contest of men versus women, with Hirata’s love the prize.

  “Many thanks for your generous offer, but I don’t want to get you in trouble, so I’d better go by myself,” Reiko said. Then, seeing Midori’s disappointed expression, she fibbed, “I’ll try to find something else for you to do.”

  “Oh, good!” Midori beamed.

  Sano sat in his office, his elbows propped on the desk, shaken and horrified. How could Reiko speak such insults? How could he feel such rage toward her? An evil spirit had invaded their home, breeding discord and malice.

  Its name was Haru.

  With the impassioned regret of hindsight, Sano wished he’d never involved Reiko with Haru. He knew better than to think that Reiko would give up trying to exonerate the girl. Yet even as Sano wondered how he could separate Reiko from a murder suspect, a needle of self-doubt pierced his conscience. In his perpetual insecurity about his position, was he indeed succumbing to political pressure to arrest Haru because she represented the quickest way to solve the case? Sano cradled his head in his hands. He’d thought himself a man of honor and objective judgment, but now he questioned his own character.

  Was Reiko right about him, and Haru, and the Black Lotus?

  “Ssakan-sama, there’s something
I must say,” Hirata said.

  Jolted out of his troubled reverie, Sano looked up at his chief retainer, who sat opposite him: He’d not noticed Hirata enter. “Go ahead,” he said.

  “Those citizens I interviewed were so sure that the Black Lotus is evil, I started to believe it,” Hirata said haltingly. “If you’d met them, I think you would, too. I didn’t want to say this earlier, but …” Hirata’s face reflected deep conflict within him. “Their testimony is serious indication that the sect is involved in bad business. I’m sorry to disagree with you.”

  “That’s all right.” Sano endured the sting that Hirata’s words caused him. The duties of a chief retainer included voicing unpleasant, necessary truths to his master.

  “Ignoring the signs could ruin the investigation,” Hirata added.

  “I know.” Sano could admit to Hirata what he couldn’t to Reiko. “We’ll have to check out those stories about the sect.” He thought for a moment, then said, “I’ll decline Minister Fugatami’s invitation. I don’t think a trip to Shinagawa is necessary yet, because we can tap another source of facts about the Black Lotus.”

  “Who is that?” Hirata asked.

  “The prime suspect herself,” Sano said. “It’s time for another visit with Haru.”

  16

  They who defy the Law of the Black Lotus

  Will have the whip laid upon them,

  Their bodies will be beaten and cuffed,

  They will suffer grief and pain,

  To the point of death.

  —FROM THE BLACK LOTUS SUTRA

  Night enfolded the Zojo temple district. Diffuse moonlight frosted the roofs and treetops, but darkness saturated the deserted alleys. Sleep had silenced ten thousand voices, slowed heartbeats, stilled movement. The autumn wind’s hushed breath absorbed the exhalations of slumber.