If you among the faithful should encounter trouble with the law,
Face punishment, about to forfeit your life,
The Bodhisattva of Infinite Power will break the
executioner’s sword in pieces.
– FROM THE BLACK LOTUS SUTRA
The trial of Haru shall commence,” announced Magistrate Ueda.
He was seated upon the dais in the Court of Justice, a cavernous hall with barred windows set in paneled walls, illuminated by lanterns. Sano sat at his right; secretaries flanked them. All wore black ceremonial robes.
The magistrate continued, “Haru is accused of four crimes: arson, and the murders of Police Commander Oyama, a peasant woman named Chie, and a small boy of unknown identity.”
The secretaries wrote, recording his words. Sano hid anxiety behind a cool façade. He’d spent the day preparing for the trial. Now, as twilight dimmed the windows, he hoped to secure a conviction and elicit facts that would convince the shogun to authorize a rescue expedition to the Black Lotus Temple, but the outcome of the trial was by no means certain.
A large audience sat in rows on the floor, in a haze of smoke from tobacco pipes. Sano eyed Hirata, who knelt among other Tokugawa officials, apart from a delegation of civilian town leaders. Hirata’s features were strained with worry about Midori.
Magistrate Ueda addressed the guards stationed at the door at the far end of the court: “Bring in the defendant.”
The guards opened the heavy, carved door. Through it walked two soldiers, with Haru between them. Her hands were bound by ropes, and her ankles shackled in iron cuffs joined by a thick chain. She wore a gray muslin kimono and straw sandals, and her hair was braided. The bruises around her eyes had darkened to violet; her puffy nose and raw, split lips rendered her face almost unrecognizable to Sano. As the guards led her toward the dais, she moved stiffly, as if in pain.
Uneasy murmurs swept the audience. Magistrate Ueda’s calm didn’t waver, yet Sano doubted that this father of a beloved daughter could remain unmoved by the injured girl. She might induce sympathy in the man designated to judge her.
The guards positioned Haru on her knees on a straw mat on the shirasu, an area of floor directly before the dais, covered by white sand, the symbol of truth. Haru bowed low. Looking down at her bent back, Sano could pity her himself.
“Look up,” Magistrate Ueda ordered her.
Haru lifted a woeful face.
“Do you understand that the purpose of this trial is to determine whether you are guilty of the arson and murders for which you were arrested?” Magistrate Ueda said.
“Yes, master.” Haru’s voice was a barely audible whisper that the audience strained forward to hear.
“First we shall hear the facts of the crimes and evidence against you, presented by His Excellency the Shogun’s sōsakan-sama,” said Magistrate Ueda. “Then you may speak in your own defense. Afterward, I shall render my decision. “ He nodded to Sano. “Proceed.”
“Thank you, Honorable Magistrate.” Sano described the fire at the Black Lotus Temple, how the victims found in the cottage had died, then how the fire brigade had discovered lamp oil, a torch, and Haru at the scene. “Haru claimed to have lost her memory of the time preceding the fire. She insisted that she didn’t set the fire or kill anyone. But my investigation has proved that she is a liar, arsonist, and murderess.”
Haru sat with eyes humbly downcast, like a martyr resigned to persecution. Sano was glad that Reiko wasn’t here. He hadn’t seen her since morning, when she’d told him Midori was missing; he hadn’t told her about the trial because he didn’t want her around to interfere. Next he related Haru’s probable involvement in her husband’s death, and what Abbess Junketsu-in and Dr. Miwa had said about her misbehavior at the temple. He mentioned that the two girls from the orphanage had seen Haru go to the cottage.
“Therefore, Haru had both the bad character and the opportunity necessary to commit the crimes,” Sano said.
Still, he feared that his argument would be weakened by his failure to produce the witnesses to speak for themselves. Magistrate Ueda understood that the shogun had prohibited him from contact with Black Lotus members, but if he had the least uncertainty about whether the witnesses had told the truth or Sano had accurately reported their statements, he might give Haru the benefit of the doubt.
“Now I shall show that Haru also had reason to kill,” Sano said. “After further interrogation, she admitted that Commander Oyama once forced her to have sexual relations with him. There is a witness who can prove that she hated him for mistreating her. Will Oyama Jinsai please come forward?”
The young samurai rose from the audience, knelt before the dais, and bowed. Under Sano’s questioning, Jinsai described how Commander Oyama had used the girls at the Black Lotus Temple and introduced him to Haru, who had glared and spat at the commander.
“I say that on the night of his murder, Commander Oyama again violated Haru, and she killed him in revenge,” Sano concluded. “Afterward, she set fire to the cottage to disguise the circumstances of his death.”
Just then, the door opened, and Reiko slipped into the room. Sano beheld her in dismay. As she knelt behind the audience, her level gaze met his. Sano experienced a stab of alarm.
“Honorable Magistrate, I recommend that Haru be condemned,” Sano said, hiding his concern about what Reiko might do.
“Your counsel will be given serious consideration,” Magistrate Ueda said.
Yet Sano knew that Haru’s lack of apparent connection with the other victims was the major flaw in his case, which Magistrate Ueda wouldn’t miss. Because the murders were obviously connected, if she hadn’t committed them all, then perhaps she hadn’t committed any of them. As much as the magistrate wanted to serve justice, he required evidence to support a guilty verdict.
The men in the audience whispered among themselves. Reiko leaned forward, her expression avid. Haru sat meekly, the picture of wounded innocence. Sano fought rising anxiety as he observed the desperation on Hirata’s face. Time was speeding by; Midori was still inside the temple, and he might neither secure Haru’s conviction nor extract the truth from the girl.
“I shall now hear the defendant’s story,” Magistrate Ueda said.
An expectant hush descended upon the audience. Reiko clasped her hands tightly under her sleeves. Anger at Sano twisted inside her. How could he waste time persecuting Haru when he should be trying to rescue Midori? And he hadn’t even done Reiko the courtesy of telling her he’d scheduled the trial! She’d learned about it by chance, when she’d come to ask her father to use his influence to get Sano permission to enter the Black Lotus Temple, and a clerk had told her the trial was under way. But of course Sano didn’t want her to interfere with his destruction of Haru. He was cutting her out of the final stage of the investigation and ending her involvement in his work forever.
Yet Reiko wouldn’t give up her vocation without a fight. Nor could she let Haru suffer for the crimes of the Black Lotus while there was any chance that the girl was innocent. Might Reiko still ensure that her last investigation ended in justice? The flaws in Sano’s argument gave the girl a chance for reprieve, and Reiko wondered why he’d rushed the trial. Still, his haste favored her and Haru. Reiko hoped that Haru would make a good showing.
Magistrate Ueda turned to Haru. “What have you to say for yourself?”
“I didn’t do it.” Head bowed, the girl spoke in a low but distinct voice.
“Say specifically what you did not do,” Magistrate Ueda instructed her.
“Kill Commander Oyama.”
“What about the woman and boy?”
“I didn’t kill them, either,” Haru said, and Reiko could see her trembling with fear.
“Did you set fire to the cottage?” Magistrate Ueda asked.