“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, Sōsakan-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?” he 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 further 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.”