Black Lotus

29

Midori awakened to groggy consciousness. A heavy fog of sleep weighed upon her. Through it she heard distant chanting. Her head ached; her mouth was dry and her stomach queasy. Rolling onto her side, she opened her eyes.

She was lying on a futon on a wooden pallet, in a large room illuminated by shafts of sunlight from barred windows. Around her, other women lay asleep on beds arranged in rows. Midori frowned in confusion. Who were they? Where was she? Then she realized that she must be in the Black Lotus convent, and the women were her fellow novices. The fog in her mind lifted, and she recalled the initiation ceremony with lucidity and horror.

She’d enjoyed that man touching her, thinking he was Hirata! She couldn’t believe she’d behaved so disgracefully! There must have been poison in the incense that had driven her mad. Anraku’s blood must have contained a sleeping potion, because she couldn’t recall anything that had happened after drinking it.

Now Midori noticed that the sleeping women were dressed in gray robes instead of the white ones they’d worn last night. Some of them were bald: Their heads had been shaved. Midori’s heart lurched as she recalled that now they were all nuns. Her hand flew to her own head. She felt long, silky hair and sighed in relief, though she wondered why she’d been spared. Examining herself, she saw that she, too, wore gray. Someone had changed her clothes while she slept. Misery and shame swelled inside Midori. She’d thought herself such a clever spy, yet she’d succumbed to the Black Lotus.

A nun walked up the aisle, banging a gong. “Get up!” she ordered. “It’s time to begin your new life!”

Amid murmurs and yawns, the new nuns stirred. Midori sat up, wincing as vertigo engulfed her. Servant girls passed out steaming bowls of tea and rice gruel.

“No talking,” the nun announced.

Midori received her portion and realized she was hungry, but feared that the food contained poison. If she wanted to keep her wits, she must not consume anything the sect gave her.

“If you’re not going to eat yours, can I have it?” someone whispered.

Looking up, Midori saw Toshiko kneeling on the bed beside hers. Toshiko looked sleepy; she still had her hair, too. Midori noticed that all the prettier girls did. Concerned for her friend’s safety, Midori whispered urgently, “No, you can’t! It might be bad!”

“Bad?” Toshiko frowned. “What do you mean?”

The nun patrolled the aisles. Midori didn’t want to find out what the punishment was for breaking rules. She realized that she couldn’t leave Toshiko at the mercy of the Black Lotus. When she left the temple, she must take her friend with her. “I’ll explain as soon as I can.” Then curiosity overrode caution. “What did Anraku promise you?”

Toshiko never got a chance to answer, because the nun herded everyone outside to use the privies and fetch water from the well to wash themselves. Then she took them to the main hall. The precinct was full of nuns and priests bringing in rice bales, loads of charcoal and wood, urns of oil, barrels of pickled vegetables and dried fish. Midori wondered why they needed so many provisions. She saw no pilgrims around, and felt a stab of fear.

The Black Lotus had indeed expelled everyone except its members. She must be the only outsider here. The weather was clear and bright, but Midori sensed an undercurrent in the atmosphere, as if from an invisible storm brewing. She longed to run away before anything worse happened to her, but she couldn’t go home with nothing to tell except the details of the initiation ceremony, and she’d rather die than have anyone know that. If she returned empty-handed, everything she’d gone through would be for naught. Besides, she’d come to believe that the Black Lotus really was evil, and she wanted to help defeat it. She must be brave and stay long enough to gather the information she’d promised Reiko.

Inside the main hall, her group joined a crowd of monks and nuns who were kneeling on the floor. An elderly priest led them in chanting. Midori secured a place next to Toshiko and chanted the monotonous prayer. The hall looked different today. Curtains covered the mirrors, and only a few candles burned on the altar, yet the emotional intensity she’d felt last night still charged the air. Senior nuns and priests guarded the doors or patrolled narrow aisles between the ranks of kneeling figures. Head bowed, Midori nudged Toshiko.

“The Black Lotus is dangerous,” she whispered. “It kills people. Something bad is going to happen.”

“How do you know?” Toshiko whispered back.

The thought of revealing her true identity and purpose scared Midori, but she didn’t think Toshiko would believe her unless she did. “I’m Niu Midori, a spy for the wife of the shogun’s sōsakan-sama. She told me,” Midori said. “I’m here to find out what’s happening. As soon as I do, I’m leaving. You have to come with me because if you stay, you could get hurt.”

They kept chanting as Toshiko flashed Midori a frightened glance. Then Toshiko whispered, “All right. What are we going to do?”

“I’ll sneak away later and look around,” Midori answered. “Then I’ll come back for you.”

At intervals during the prayers, groups of nuns and priests filed out of the hall and others filed in, worshipping in shifts. Eventually, the nun led Midori’s group to a building that housed a workshop for printing prayers. Inside, nuns cut sheets of paper and mixed pots of acrid black ink. Others worked at long tables, spreading ink on wooden blocks incised with characters and pressing the blocks against paper. Midori and Toshiko were assigned to cut the printed prayers into strips that bore the message, “Hail the new era of the Black Lotus.” Two priests roved the room, overseeing the work. Midori waited until the priests were busy at the other end of the room, then edged toward the door.

“Where are you going?” demanded a loud, female voice.

Startled, Midori looked around and saw a nun glaring at her from the printing table. The priests moved toward her. “To the privy,” Midori lied, belatedly aware that everyone here watched one another.

“Go with her,” one of the priests told the nun.

On the way to the privy and back, the nun never let Midori out of sight. Working beside Toshiko, Midori whispered, “You have to help me get away.”

Toshiko sliced her knife between rows of printed characters. “I’ll do something to distract everybody.”

“When?” Midori asked anxiously.

“We’ll have to wait for the right time. Just be patient and watch me. When I wink at you, run.”

Now Midori was glad she’d taken Toshiko into her confidence. Toshiko was exactly the clever accomplice she needed.

“We should not have left Haru in jail,” Reiko said to Sano.

It was late afternoon, and they were traveling through Nihonbashi toward Edo Castle. Reiko rode in her palanquin, while Sano walked beside its open window, leading his horse; Hirata and the detectives preceded them. A short time ago, Sano had finished his inquiries at Edo Jail, told Reiko the results, and said it was time to go home. Reiko hadn’t wanted to leave Haru, and she didn’t agree with his version of events, but she couldn’t disgrace her husband by challenging his authority at the jail, so she’d reluctantly kept silent until now.

“Haru will be fine,” Sano said. “The two guards I stationed outside her cell will protect her, and Dr. Ito will tend her injuries. I’ve warned the warden that he’ll be demoted if he allows any more harm to come to her. The jailers have been flogged for beating Haru. They won’t bother her again.”

“But you haven’t found all the men responsible for the attack. “ Reiko described what Haru had told her. “Where’s the third one?”

“There were only two men,” Sano said as the procession slowed on its way through an outdoor marketplace.

Reiko heard firm conviction in Sano’s voice and braced herself for an argument. “Haru says there were three.”

“Hirata and I interrogated everyone at the prison, checked their whereabouts last night, and searched their quarters for clothes with fresh bloodstains,” Sano said. “We found no cause to think that anyone else besides those two jailers was involved in the attack.”

“Maybe not anyone else from the jail,” Reiko said, though troubled by the discrepancy between his version of the story and Haru’s. “The other man could have come from outside. I think he was a Black Lotus priest. He tried to threaten Haru into confessing to the arson and murders.”

“Or so she told you,” Sano said skeptically. “After the two jailers admitted beating Haru, I asked them what happened in that cell. They said they warned Haru to be quiet, but there was no other talk. The prisoners in the other cells heard nothing at all.”

“The jailers are probably Black Lotus followers, trying to protect their leader,” Reiko said. “The prisoners are probably lying because they’re afraid of the jailers and don’t want to get in trouble.”

Sano shook his head; Reiko saw irritation harden his profile. “If anyone is lying, it’s Haru. She’s obviously trying to use a random incident to manipulate her way out of jail. I won’t fall for that, even if you do.”

Reiko thought of Haru’s words about the murdered child, and lingering doubt resurfaced.

“What is it?” Sano said, peering suspiciously through the window at her.

“Nothing.” Reiko turned away so he couldn’t read her thoughts.

She should tell him that Haru had identified the boy as Chie’s son, but she didn’t want to invite questions about what else Haru had said. Reiko envisioned her relationship with Sano as a house they’d built together, and the secrets she hid as invisible flaws in the structure. Her decision to withhold a clue from him eroded its foundation. Every new development in the case further weakened the integrity of their marriage. Reiko experienced a powerful urge to surrender the battle over Haru, placate Sano, and try to restore the harmony between them, yet her crusade against the sect forced her to stand by Haru. And a part of her still believed she was right to defend the girl.

Frustrated by Sano’s refusal to change his mind, she said, “Maybe you’re eager to believe that the attack was random because if you’d left Haru at my father’s house, it wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t like to think that you arrested the wrong person and let the real killers get her.”

“What I like is not the issue. Evidence is.” Asperity edged Sano’s voice, and Reiko knew that her remark had pierced a sore spot in him. Clearly, he wasn’t as sure of Haru’s guilt as he wished to be, and the possibility that he’d caused undeserved harm to someone disturbed him. “The evidence says Haru is a criminal and that two jailers who enjoy molesting female prisoners attacked her.”

“Maybe you’ve overlooked evidence that proves Haru’s story,” Reiko said, desperate to prevent him from letting the Black Lotus dupe him.

Sano stared at her in shock. “Are you saying that I contrived the investigation at the jail to serve my personal aims? Can you really be so smitten with Haru that you think I would do such a dishonest, selfish thing?”

Now Reiko realized she’d again pushed him too far. She was appalled that her attempt to sway him had backfired. “No, I’m just asking you to be objective and reconsider-”

“You dare tell me to be objective?” Sano’s expression turned furious. “You’re the one who’s lost your objectivity where Haru is concerned. And you’ve forgotten where your loyalty belongs.” He was shouting, oblivious to the presence of the people around them. “Don’t you see that Haru has corrupted you? You’re becoming as deceitful and wayward as she is. Well, go ahead and choose her over your husband. Let her destroy our life, because I don’t care anymore-I’m sick of you both!”

His bitter fury seared Reiko. She was aghast to think he believed their trouble was solely due to her friendship with Haru, and that her reckless words had caused the final rupture between them. How could she explain that there was much more involved than a fight over the girl, and that his honor was at stake, without further angering him?

Sano gave her no chance to try. “I’ll have no more of your criticism or interference,” he said, his words cutting like a steel blade, his face taut with anger. “Either you come to your senses, treat me with respect, and stay out of this investigation, or-”

He seemed to notice that he was shouting in public for all to hear, and a look of mortification came over his face. He mounted his horse and galloped ahead, leaving Reiko sitting in her palanquin, amid the ruins of their life together. He was threatening to divorce her! Imagining consequences too terrible to contemplate, she suddenly realized how much she would hate to lose him.

As Sano rode beside Hirata, emotion contradicted his ultimatum. Reiko was his wife and the mother of his son. Though he hated her stubborn defense of Haru, they’d shared so many accomplishments, happy times, and dangers. He didn’t really want to end their marriage, yet he refused to tolerate her misbehavior any longer, and if she refused to yield, there seemed no alternative except divorce. Sano maintained a stoic countenance that hid his regret and bewilderment.

Hirata said, “Maybe it’s just coincidence, but every main road we’ve tried to follow has been blocked. We’ve been constantly having to take detours.”

Sano had been too preoccupied to pay attention. Now his memory recalled images subconsciously noted: a burning trash heap at one intersection and a big stack of wood at another; jugglers performing for a crowd. None of these things was unusual, but Hirata was right to bring the combination to Sano’s notice.

“I don’t like this,” he said, looking around suspiciously.

The detours had diverted them into a labyrinth of narrow lanes between houses whose balconies almost touched overhead. Sano and his men had to ride single file, and Reiko’s palanquin barely fit. The street they were on seemed oddly empty for such a populous district, with not a soul in sight.

“I smell a trap,” Hirata said.

“Let’s get out of here,” Sano said. Slapping the reins, he called to the palanquin bearers and the guards at the rear of the procession: “Hurry.”

The procession gathered speed. Ahead loomed the portals of a neighborhood gate. Through it rushed six men dressed in hooded cloaks, with cloths tied over the lower portions of their faces. They wore daggers at their waists and carried spears. They charged at the procession.

“It’s an ambush!” Sano yelled. His party of twelve men outnumbered the attackers, but he didn’t want to be stuck in this confined space. “Go back!”

He and Hirata and the detectives turned their horses, but the palanquin, with its long poles, was too big. The bearers hastily backed down the street. Eight more hooded, masked, armed men stormed in from the opposite direction. Now the attackers had the advantage, and Sano’s party was trapped.

“Fight!” Sano shouted.

He saw the four bearers set down the palanquin and hurry to join the four guards in a rear defense. Drawing his sword, he leapt from his mount. Hirata and the detectives followed suit. An attacker rushed Sano, spear aimed at his heart. Sano dodged. He bumped into Hirata, who was parrying slices from the spears of two more attackers. Sano clashed blades with his opponent.

“Reiko!” he called. “Stay inside the palanquin!”

Another attacker joined the man battling Sano. They lunged and jabbed at him. Sano hacked at the wooden shaft of one opponent’s spear. The shaft broke. Sano sliced the man across the throat. Blood spurted, and the man fell dead.

The other man lunged; Sano sidestepped, crashed against a building, and the spear grazed his shoulder. Swinging his sword around, he struck at the man’s hands. The man dropped the spear, ducked another cut from Sano, and drew a long-bladed dagger. As he slashed and parried, Sano noticed that another attacker lay facedown in a pool of blood nearby, slain by Hirata or the detectives. Through the narrow gap between the palanquin and the buildings he saw his men fighting the attackers on the other side of the palanquin. The remaining four on his side formed a line of offense. Thrusting spears crowded Sano and his men together, forcing them backward. Sano glimpsed the attackers’ intent, merciless eyes above the masks.

Who were they? Why did they risk ambushing an armed Tokugawa procession?

The horses, frightened by the battle, neighed and circled, trying to escape, but the fighters and the palanquin hemmed them in. One of the horses reared; its flailing hooves struck the detective at Sano’s right, and he stumbled. A spear pierced his middle. He screamed, collapsed, then lay still.

Outraged by the murder of a loyal retainer, Sano fought harder. Spears and swords flashed, battered, and rang in the air between his side and the attackers. Sano darted past spears and around to the rear of the offense. He sliced an attacker down the back. The man howled and died. Sano, Hirata, and the other detective circled the three remaining attackers and soon felled them, then ran to the back of the palanquin. There, two guards were wielding swords against the spears of two attackers. The corpses of the other guards, attackers, and the palanquin bearers lay strewn upon the road.

Sano called to the attackers, “Your comrades are dead. Surrender!”

They turned toward him, and he saw them realize that they were now outnumbered five men to two. They fled down the street. Hirata, the detective, and the guards raced off in pursuit. Reiko jumped out of the palanquin and gaped at the carnage.

“You’re bleeding,” she said to Sano, pointing at his shoulder.

Sano inspected the wound, which hurt but had stopped bleeding. “It’s not serious. Are you all right?”

Reiko nodded, but her lips trembled. Sano worried that this trauma, so soon after the murders of the Fugatami, was too much for his wife. He felt an impulse to hold her, to reassure her that she was safe. Yet their strife had created a distance between them that precluded intimacy.

Reiko averted her gaze from Sano and walked over to the corpse of an attacker.

The man lay sprawled on his back. Blood from the fatal gash across his belly drenched his garments; his hood and face cloth had fallen off. He was young, with coarse features, and a stranger to Sano. His head was shaved bald.

“A priest,” Reiko said.

Leaning closer, she examined his neck, then pointed at a tattoo just below his throat. It was a black lotus flower.

“First the sect attacked Haru, and now us,” Reiko said, her voice deliberately calm. “They must have followed us from the jail and set up the ambush. They wanted to keep us from discovering the truth about the Black Lotus.”

Sano agreed with her logic, and he began reassessing his opinion of the attack on Haru, but before he could reply, his men returned. “You lost the last two?” Sano said.

“We cornered them in an alley,” Hirata said,”but they cut their own throats to avoid capture.” Eyeing the corpse beside Reiko, he added,”They’re both priests, with that same tattoo.”

Reiko turned a bleak gaze on Sano. “They’ll stop at nothing to destroy their enemies and protect their secrets.”