The priests lifted the handles of the palanquin and trotted down the crowded street toward the Black Lotus Temple. Reiko helplessly watched them go. As she walked back to join her entourage, she wondered whether her inquiries would ultimately benefit or hurt Haru. Of all the conflicting statements she’d heard today, which should she believe?
8
The truth is elusive,
The door to wisdom difficult to enter.
– FROM THE BLACK LOTUS SUTRA
Dusk spread a canopy of vibrant rose and aquamarine sky over Edo. Lights glowed behind windows, at neighborhood gates, in temple grounds, and in boats along the river’s gleaming dark ribbon. The moon, like a huge silver coin worn thin at its edge, shone above Edo Castle. In the torch-lit courtyard of Sano’s estate, hooves clattered against the paving stones as mounted guards escorted Reiko’s palanquin to the mansion.
When Reiko alighted, the nursemaid O-hana threw open the front door, crying, “Thank the gods you’re back!”
Anxiety struck Reiko; she hurried into the mansion. “Is something wrong with Masahiro?”
“The young master has missed you so much that he’s been crying and fussing all day. He wouldn’t drink milk from O-aki.” This was Masahiro’s wet nurse. “He refused to eat, and he wouldn’t take a nap.”
In the entryway, Reiko hastily kicked off her shoes, then ran down the corridor. While she’d been out, her beloved son had gone hungry and endured great misery. Now she heard him wailing in a continuous, mournful drone. She rushed into the nursery and found her own childhood nurse O-sugi jiggling Masahiro on her lap.
“There, there,” O-sugi cooed. Masahiro squirmed, his face unhappy. Then O-sugi spied Reiko. “Look, Masahiro-chan,” she said with obvious relief. “Mama is home.”
The sight of Reiko abruptly silenced Masahiro. His eyes became round. Laughing with the joy of seeing him again, Reiko knelt and gathered his plump, warm body in her arms. She pressed her cheek to his soft hair.
“My baby,” she whispered. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!”
A loud howl issued from Masahiro.
“What’s wrong?” Puzzled, Reiko looked at her son and saw his face contorted with distress. She tried to comfort him, but more howls gave way to wild screams. His little hands pushed at her chest; his feet kicked her stomach.
“The young master is just tired and cross,” O-sugi said. “He’s been working himself up to a tantrum.”
“No, he’s angry at me for abandoning him!” Her son’s rejection of her was too much for Reiko to bear, and tears sprang to her eyes. While Masahiro screamed and thrashed, she held him tighter. “I’m here now, it’s all right,” she murmured.
She and O-sugi and the maids cajoled and soothed. His face bright red, Masahiro beat his fists at them. Between his ear-splitting screams, Reiko heard the front door open, and men’s voices in the entryway.
Sano was home.
Alarmed by the screams that had greeted his arrival, Sano sped down the corridor, fearful that harm had befallen Masahiro. He burst into the nursery. Discovering his son safe in Reiko’s arms, Sano experienced relief, but Masahiro continued shrieking. Sano saw tears in Reiko’s eyes.
“What happened?” Sano knelt at his wife’s side. “Is he hurt?”
Struggling to hold the squirming child, Reiko gave him a forced smile and pitched her voice above the screams: “No, he’s just being difficult.”
Now Sano noticed that Reiko wore an outdoor cloak. Concern about her replaced his fear for their son. “Did you just get home?”
“Yes.”
“You were supposed to go to Zōjō 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.”