Black Lotus

13

The rain had ceased by the time Sano arrived at the Black Lotus Temple. Sunlight sparkled in puddles along the central path where Sano walked. Worshippers strolled; children ran and laughed. The colors of their clothing, the dripping foliage, and the patches of blue sky among the fleeing clouds were bright in the clean, fresh air.

A priest who’d escorted Sano during his inquiries on the morning after the fire greeted him outside the main hall. “Greetings, Sōsakan-sama. I am at your service.”

“Thank you, but I’d like to explore the temple on my own today,” Sano said.

The priest said, “Very well,” bowed, and departed.

So much for Reiko’s claim that the sect was trying to restrict the investigation, Sano thought. He walked to the novices’ quarters. These were secluded, but looked ordinary and well kept. From inside came the sound of youthful voices, chanting: “I offer gratitude to the god of the world, the god of thunder, the god of the sun, the god of the moon, the god of the stars, and all other deities who protect the followers of the Black Lotus Sutra. I praise the supreme truth hidden in the Black Lotus Sutra and give thanks for the benefits I have received. I offer praise and deepest gratitude to High Priest Anraku, the Bodhisattva of Infinite Power. I pray for spiritual enlightenment, to erase the negative karma created by my past actions, and to fulfill my wishes in this life and in the future. I pray for the truth of the Black Lotus Sutra to bring nirvana to all mankind.”

The chanting gave way to chatter. A priest greeted Sano at the door.

“I’d like to speak with the novice monks,” Sano said.

“Certainly,” the priest said. “It’s time for our noon meal. Will you please join us?”

A noisy crowd of youths ranging from early teens to mid twenties, all sporting muslin robes, swarmed out of the building. They knelt on the veranda. When Sano introduced himself, they studied him curiously. He noted their rosy cheeks, bright eyes, and healthy bodies. Servants brought out the meal. Tasting his share, Sano found the fresh vegetables and noodle soup delicious.

“Are you happy here?” he asked the novices seated nearest him.

Amid chewing, bulging cheeks and cheerful smiles, they chorused, “Yes, master.”

Sano noticed that the priest had vanished, leaving him alone with the novices. “Tell me how you spend your days.”

An adolescent with a pointed face said, “We get up at sunrise and pray. Then we have our morning meal.”

“We clean our rooms,” offered a muscular youth of perhaps twenty years. “The priests teach us religion until noon, when we eat again.”

“Is the food always like this?” Sano asked.

“We get rice and fish and eggs and pickles and fruit, too.”

Other novices chimed in: “We get to play for an hour, then we study until dinner.” “Afterward, we take baths.” “At sunset, we have prayers.” “Then we go to bed.”

It seemed a reasonable routine, Sano thought, and similar to that of other Buddhist orders. “What if you misbehave?”

The young men grinned at a pudgy boy who was evidently a troublemaker. He said, “The priests lecture us on the error of our ways. Then we sit alone and meditate.”

“They don’t beat you?” Sano asked.

The question elicited puzzled looks and denials.

“What if you were unhappy and wanted to leave?”

A general stir of amusement indicated that the novices thought this an unlikely situation. “I missed my family at first,” said the pudgy boy, “and I told the priests I wanted to go home. They sent me back to my parents’ house, but after a few days of cleaning fish at my father’s shop, I came back.”

Evidently he hadn’t been detained against his will or by force, and Sano didn’t see anyone watching to make sure the novices didn’t wander off. Sano said, “Is there a novice monk named Pious Truth here?”

Boys shook their heads.

“He was also known as Mori Gogen,” Sano said, giving the name Reiko had said to be the monk’s original one.

The lack of recognition on the boys’ faces increased his doubts about the tale Reiko had told him. If there was no novice called Pious Truth here, who was it she’d met?

“What do you know about Haru, the girl who was found near the fire?” he asked the novices.

They exchanged sly glances. “She’s generous with her favors,” said the muscular youth. “Two novices were expelled for meeting her at night.”

Reiko wouldn’t welcome this confirmation of Abbess Junketsu-in’s story about the girl, Sano knew. He finished his meal, thanked the novices for their company, then chatted with others, who gave similar answers to the same questions. Afterward, he walked to the novice nuns’ quarters.

There, he found girls sitting inside a room, sewing while a nun read aloud a story about an emperor who entices his subjects to flee a city threatened by a flood, then rewards them with great wealth after they escape drowning. If this was a passage of the Black Lotus Sutra, it seemed to Sano that the scripture borrowed heavily from the famous Lotus Sutra and its Parable of the Burning House, but doctrinal imitation was no crime.

The novices burst into giggles at the sight of a man invading their domain. The nun readily granted Sano’s request to interview them by himself. At his prompting, they described their daily life, which followed a routine similar to that of the boys. Apparently, they all felt free to leave if they wished, and they corroborated Haru’s reputation for seducing young men. They looked healthy and contented; Sano detected no evidence of starvation or drug-induced stupor here, either.

“Is there someone named Yasue among you?” Sano asked.

Heads turned toward a chunky girl of about fifteen, seated near the window. She blushed at finding herself the center of attention.

“Don’t be nervous,” Sano told her. For Reiko’s sake, he was sorry that he’d apparently found the novice Yasue alive and well; yet he was glad to disprove the story about her murder at the hands of the Black Lotus priests. “I just need to know if you’ve ever tried to run away from the temple.”

“Oh, no, master.” Yasue’s surprised expression asked why she would do such a thing.

“Perhaps your brother suggested that you both should leave?” Sano said.

Confusion puckered the girl’s forehead. She murmured, “I’m sorry, but I haven’t got a brother.”

Then she wasn’t the sister of Pious Truth, whoever he might be. “Is there any other Yasue here?”

The novice nuns shook their heads, gazing earnestly at him.

“Is anyone ever punished for trying to run away?”

A wave of denials swept the room. Sano became more convinced than ever that Reiko had been deceived, perhaps by someone masquerading as a monk. What was going on? Sano decided he’d better pursue the matter further, partly because he mustn’t ignore possible clues, but mostly because he needed facts to allay Reiko’s suspicions about the sect.

Sano bid farewell to the novice nuns and walked to a low, thatch-roofed building. The priests had supposedly taken Pious Truth to the temple hospital, and Reiko would expect Sano to look for the monk there.

Inside the hospital were thirty mattresses on wooden pallets, all occupied. Three nuns bathed the sick, served them tea, and massaged backs. Sano walked along the rows, inspecting the patients. They were male and female, all middle-aged or old.

“Are there any other patients elsewhere?” Sano asked a nun.

“No, master,” she said.

“Has a young novice monk named Pious Truth been recently treated here?”

“No, master.”

A physician in a dark blue coat entered, knelt beside a bed containing an elderly man, and spooned liquid from a bowl into the patient’s mouth.

Sano walked over to the doctor and asked, “What ails your patient?”

“He has a fever,” the doctor said, adding, “I’m giving him willow-wood juice.”

This was a standard remedy. “Do you ever perform medical experiments on the sect members?” Sano asked.

“Never.”

The doctor looked genuinely shocked by Sano’s suggestion that he would endanger his patients’ lives. The nuns came over to join them, and Sano asked the group, “Has anyone from here disappeared recently?”

“No, master,” said the doctor. The old man in bed mumbled something.

“What did you say?” Sano asked.

“Chie,” said the old man. His bony cheeks were flushed, his eyes dazed. “She’s one of the nurses. Used to take care of me. Haven’t seen her in days.”

“He’s delirious,” the doctor told Sano apologetically. “There has never been a nurse named Chie here.”

Sano looked at the nuns, who murmured in agreement. “Has Haru ever been treated here?” Sano said.

“Yes,” said the doctor. “Haru is a patient of Dr. Miwa, our chief physician. Her spiritual disharmony causes bad behavior.”

Sano considered the possibility that everyone at the temple was part of a conspiracy bent on hiding secrets from him and smearing Haru’s reputation, but these people seemed honest. After leaving the hospital, he wandered through the temple precinct. He observed nuns and monks tending the gardens and washing dishes in the kitchen. They appeared as normal as the clergy at any other temple, and their activities mundane. Sano continued on to the orphanage. He thought of his interview with Haru’s parents, and guilt tugged at him, because he was about to do something else he hadn’t mentioned to Reiko.

Children’s laughter and shouts greeted his entry into the garden surrounding the orphanage. Under the supervision of two nuns, the thirty-one orphans were running, jumping, and skipping in play. They ranged in age from a toddler, who reminded Sano of Masahiro, to two girls of ten or eleven years tossing a leather ball with some younger boys. One of the boys missed a catch, and the ball flew toward Sano. He caught it. The group turned to him, wary at the sight of a stranger.

“Watch,” Sano said.

He kicked the ball high in the air. The children squealed in delight, and a boy caught the ball. He clumsily imitated Sano’s kick, booting the ball into some bushes.

“Here, I’ll show you,” Sano said. With his coaching, the children mastered the trick and began a lively contest to see who could kick the ball highest. Someone sent the ball soaring over the orphanage roof. The boys ran to retrieve it, and Sano turned to the two girls.

“Is Haru a friend of yours?” he asked.

The girls moved close together, suddenly shy. The taller, who was delicate and pretty, blurted, “We don’t like Haru. Nobody does.”

“Why not?” Sano asked.

“She’s mean,” the other girl said, her round face puckering in dislike. “If we don’t do what she says, she hits us. Um, the littler ones are afraid of her because she picks on them.”

Sano listened in consternation. Their story contradicted the one Haru had given Reiko, who he knew would be upset to learn that the orphans Haru had professed to love considered her a bully. Sano also knew that these bad character references could help him convict Haru. If she was cruel to children, she might have killed the little boy found in the fire. More mixed feelings plagued Sano. He was eager to solve the case, yet disturbed to think of himself and Reiko compiling evidence for and against Haru like warlords stocking arsenals for a battle. Although he didn’t relish the idea of losing, he wondered if Reiko was right about the Black Lotus in one respect.

It appeared that Haru had offended many people here. Maybe they were seeking revenge, as she’d claimed, by implicating her in murder and arson.

The boys had returned with the ball. One of them said, “It’s no use telling the nuns or priests how Haru treats us. They won’t stop her.”

“Why not?” Sano said.

“Haru is High Priest Anraku’s favorite. She can do whatever she wants.”

Sano saw that he must speak with Anraku. The high priest had been secluded in prayer rituals during his previous visits to the temple, and he’d willingly postponed an interview because he’d considered Anraku neither a witness nor a suspect, but now it was imperative that he question the high priest about Haru.

“I’m trying to find out who set the fire,” Sano said to the children. “Do you know anything that might help me?”

The boys shook their heads. Glances passed between the two girls. “Haru did it,” said the pretty one.

Children often made up stories and repeated things they’d heard, Sano knew; as a father, he felt a certain responsibility toward these children who had no parents. He sent the boys off to play ball, then asked the girls, “What are your names?”

“Yukiko,” said the pretty one.

“Hanako,” said the round-faced one.

“Yukiko-chan and Hanako-chan, it’s wrong to accuse someone unless you have facts to prove your accusation,” Sano said. “Do you think Haru set the fire just because other people say so?”

Again the girls looked at each other. Hanako said, “Um, the night before the fire, we went to bed in the dormitory, but instead of going to sleep, we watched Haru.”

“She sneaks out at night all the time,” said Yukiko. “We wanted to follow her and see where she went.”

“We thought that if we could catch her doing something really bad, we could, um, report her,” Hanako said. “High Priest Anraku would find out that she’s no good and expel her.”

Sano was startled by the vindictive cunning of these innocent-looking girls, and his expression must have revealed disapproval, because Yukiko said hastily, “Oh, we wouldn’t really have reported Haru. We were just going to tell her that we would unless she stopped hurting us.”

Their childish blackmail scheme disconcerted Sano even more. How early they’d learned the ways of the world! “What happened?” he asked.

“When the temple bell rang at midnight, Haru got out of bed and left the dormitory,” Yukiko said. “We went after her.”

“She tiptoed through the precinct,” Hanako said. “She kept looking around like she was, um, afraid to be seen.”

“We followed her down the path,” Yukiko said, “then Hanako got scared.”

Hanako said defensively, “I knew that if Haru saw us, she would be angry. She would, um, be even meaner to us. So I made Yukiko go back to the dormitory with me.”

“Then you didn’t see what Haru did?” Sano said.

“No,” Yukiko said, “but we followed her as far as the garden outside that cottage that burned down.”

“She acted sneaky, like she was doing something wrong,” Hanako said. “She must have set the fire.”

Maybe Haru had gone to the cottage to meet Commander Oyama, Sano thought. If so, what had happened between them? How did the murdered woman and boy fit into this scenario?

“Did you see anyone else near the cottage?” Sano asked.

“No, master,” said Yukiko.

“Did you hear any unusual noises?”

The girls shook their heads. If they were telling the truth-and Sano saw no indications otherwise-then this was confirmation of Abbess Junketsu-in’s claim that Haru had sneaked out of the dormitory that night.

“What did you do then?” Sano said.

“We, um, went back to bed.”

Still, the girls couldn’t account for the later missing hours in Haru’s life. Sano thanked them, then toured the temple, inspecting the buildings and grounds. He found no doorways to underground passages. On a path he met a pilgrim carrying a pack on his back and a walking staff in his hand. The face under his wicker hat belonged to Detective Kanryu. He bowed to Sano, showing no sign of recognition, shook his head slightly, then walked on. Sano interpreted this signal to mean that his surveillance team hadn’t yet discovered anything amiss in the temple.

At the abbot’s residence, an attendant told Sano that High Priest Anraku was engaged in meditation. Sano was annoyed at being put off, but he didn’t want to disrupt the temple routine and offend the shogun’s religious sensibilities, so he scheduled an appointment with Anraku for tomorrow afternoon. Then he walked to the hall that served as headquarters for his investigation. There, three of his detectives were questioning Black Lotus members.

“Any luck?” Sano asked them between interviews.

“We’ve questioned about half the sect,” said a detective. “So far, there’s nothing to indicate that any of Commander Oyama’s family or known enemies were here at the time of the fire. And there doesn’t appear to be anyone with cause or opportunity to have committed the crimes.”

Except Haru, Sano thought grimly. He joined his detectives in interviewing nuns and priests, aware that until he found evidence against someone else, Haru remained his only suspect, and he would somehow have to detach Reiko from her.