Looking into the chamber, Sano saw Haru seated at a dressing table. She wore her hair in an elaborate knot studded with floral ornaments, and a jade green kimono printed with mauve asters. White makeup covered her face, and she’d painted her lips scarlet. She looked years older and startlingly pretty. Clothes, toiletries, and boxes of sweets lay on the floor around her. The scene enraged Sano. Four people, including her husband, had died in violence, and here Haru sat, primping amid things that Reiko must have given her.
Now Haru saw Sano and Hirata. She gasped.
“The sōsakan-sama wants a word with you,” Magistrate Ueda said, his tone kind although Sano could tell that his father-in-law shared his disapproval of Haru.
After the magistrate left, Sano crouched near Haru. “You seem to have recovered from your ordeal,” he said to her.
She must have sensed his animosity, because she folded her arms and hunched her shoulders. Her fear transformed her into a child again. The sudden change angered Sano because she was an adult, using childishness as a defense.
“Perhaps you’ve recovered your memory, too,” Sano said. “Tell me about the night of the fire.”
“I-I already told Reiko-san that I don’t remember,” Haru mumbled, looking around as if in search of Reiko.
Their friendship had gone too far, Sano thought as his anger flared toward both women. “My wife’s not here to pamper you. You’ll answer to me. What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Trembling, Haru recoiled from him.
“Well, maybe you have a clearer recollection of years ago. Let’s talk about your parents.”
Haru’s face took on a leery expression. “My parents are dead.”
“Spare me the sad tale,” Sano said disdainfully. “I met your parents yesterday. Did you forget that they disowned you? Or did you think no one would ever find out?”
“No!” Haru cast a longing glance at the door, but Hirata blocked it. “I mean-”
“Why did you say you were an orphan?” Sano said.
Her tongue flicked over her lips. “I wanted the people at the temple to feel sorry for me and take me in.”
The manipulative little liar, Sano thought in disgust. He said, “Do you feel sorry that your husband died when you burned down his house?”
Now panic leapt in Haru’s eyes. “I didn’t!” The high, unnatural pitch of her voice contradicted her vehemence. “It was an accident!”
Rising, Sano stood over Haru. “You set the fire in your husband’s bedchamber. You were the only survivor, and glad of it. What did the old man do to you that made you murder him?”
She began wheezing and flung up her arms as though expecting him to strike her.
“What about Commander Oyama and the woman and little boy?” Sano shouted, welcoming her terror. She couldn’t get away with obstructing him any longer. To keep his position, his honor, and his family’s livelihood, he must break Haru. “Did you kill them? Did you set the fire at the temple?”
“No!” Now sobs punctuated the wheezes. Haru wept and choked; tears smeared her makeup. Bending, she cradled her head in her arms. “Please, leave me alone!”
“Sōsakan-sama.” A warning note tinged Hirata’s voice.
Sano turned and saw his chief retainer regarding him with consternation. Now he noticed that his heart was thudding, his breath rapid, every muscle tense. In the heat of anger, he’d nearly crossed the line between persuasion and violence.
Hirata said, “Let me talk to her.”
Alarmed by his loss of control, Sano nodded and stepped aside. If he couldn’t handle his temper and keep personal problems from interfering with his work, he might never solve the case. He fought down panic.
Hirata knelt beside Haru. “Don’t cry; nobody’s going to hurt you,” he soothed, patting her back. “It’s all right.”
Soon her weeping subsided. She turned a timid, drenched face to Hirata. Taking a cloth from under his sash, he dried her tears and smiled. “There, that’s better.”
Weakly, she smiled back, glancing at Sano, brave now that she thought she had an ally in Hirata.
“I believe you’re innocent,” Hirata said gently. “Help me find out who’s guilty, and I’ll help you.”
Haru studied his earnest, open face, and hope brightened her eyes. “Can you?”
“Yes, indeed. I’ll make sure your name is cleared and you can go back to your friends at the Black Lotus Temple.” Hirata’s trustworthy manner had elicited confessions from many criminals. “What do you say? Will you help me?”
Nodding, Haru said, “I’ll try.”
However, when Hirata questioned her, Haru produced the same tale she’d told Reiko: She remembered nothing after going to bed the night before the fire. Sano battled anger and sudden unease. Haru’s eagerness to help could be a pose that she’d adopted because hysteria hadn’t saved her from interrogation, but she sounded so sincere. Might she be speaking the truth?
“Haru-san, I’m afraid that what you’ve told me won’t help either of us,” Hirata said with kind concern. “Are you sure you know nothing more about the deaths of Commander Oyama, Nurse Chie, or the boy?”
“Nurse Chie was the woman in the cottage?” At Hirata’s nod, Haru started to speak, then pressed her lips together.
“What is it?” Hirata prompted.
Uncertainty puckered the girl’s forehead. “I wouldn’t want to get anyone in trouble.”
“Don’t worry. Just tell the truth,” Hirata said.
“Well…”
Hirata waited expectantly, and Sano with suspicion. At last Haru said, “It happened in the sixth month of this year. Dr. Miwa was giving me a medical treatment. I was asleep in bed in the temple hospital, when voices woke me. I looked up and saw Dr. Miwa and Nurse Chie across the room. Chie took care of the patients, and I liked her because she was pretty and cheerful, but that day she was crying. She said, ‘We can’t do this. It’s wrong.’ Dr. Miwa said, ‘No, it’s glorious, right, and destined to be. We must go through with it.’
“He was all excited, but Chie said, ‘I don’t want to. Please don’t make me!’ ” Clasping her hands, Haru pantomimed begging. “They didn’t know I was listening. Dr. Miwa got angry and shouted at Chie, ‘You’ll obey or die.’ He grabbed her and pulled her to him. She screamed, ‘No, I can’t! I won’t!’ Then she broke free and ran out of the room.”
Haru looked hopefully at Hirata. “Will that help?”
The story might indeed help Haru because it cast aspersions on the doctor, Sano observed. If Chie had spurned sexual advances from Miwa, that might give him a reason to kill her. But Haru’s recital seemed too pat. Sano wondered if the incident had really occurred.
“Did anyone besides you see what happened?” Hirata asked.
Haru shook her head. “I was the only person around.”
Just as Sano had expected, there were no impartial witnesses to confirm the story. If Dr. Miwa denied arguing with Chie, it would be his word against Haru’s. Although a physician had more credibility than did a peasant girl, even false accusations could harm someone with Miwa’s criminal record.
“Thank you, Haru-san,” said Hirata.
“Please don’t hurt Dr. Miwa,” Haru said, looking worried. “He helped me, and I’d hate to get him in trouble.”
Sano eyed her with contempt. She’d already told Reiko about a violent argument between the priest Kumashiro and Commander Oyama. Now the little hypocrite had struck back at Dr. Miwa for maligning her character.
“Especially since he’s not the only one who was mad at Chie,” Haru added.
“Who else was?” Hirata asked.
“Abbess Junketsu-in,” said Haru.
In case heaping suspicion upon Dr. Miwa wasn’t enough to get her off the hook, she would incriminate Junketsu-in, Sano thought. And the abbess was another of Haru’s detractors.
“She didn’t want Chie in the Black Lotus,” Haru said. “She was always picking on Chie and trying to get her thrown out. Once I asked Chie why Junketsu-in was so mean to her. Chie said Junketsu-in was jealous. “ With an air of stunned revelation, Haru exclaimed, “Oh! Maybe Junketsu-in killed Chie to get rid of her.”