Black Lotus (13 page)

Still, he must determine to his own satisfaction whether Haru was guilty, so he could either arrest her and satisfy the shogun and the public, or develop other leads if she was innocent. Perhaps what he learned at her birthplace would put him and Reiko on the same side of the case.

The road led Sano to Kojimachi's most famous landmark: the hunters' market. Stalls sold the meat of wild boar, deer, monkey, bear, and fowl from the mountains outside Edo. Customers and vendors haggled; flies buzzed around carcasses hung on hooks or spread on pallets; the air reeked of blood and decay. Buddhist religion prohibited the eating of meat, with one exception: for medicinal purposes. Some diseases could be cured only by consuming stews or elixirs made from animals. Farther down the road stood the popular restaurant named Yamasakana ---

"Mountain Fish" --- which served these remedies.

In a row of low, attached buildings near Yamasakana, Sano saw a noodle restaurant. This must be the establishment once owned by Haru's family. Short indigo curtains hanging from the eaves sheltered a raised wooden floor where diners could sit. At this hour --- midway between the morning and noon meals --- the restaurant was empty, but the sliding wooden doors stood open. As Sano dismounted and tied his horse to a pillar, he heard pans rattling in the kitchen at the rear; charcoal smoke wafted out. The moneylenders who had seized the restaurant as payment for Haru's father's debts had apparently sold it to someone else.

When Sano entered, a middle-aged proprietor wearing a blue cotton kimono and white head kerchief came to greet him. Sano introduced himself, then said, "I need information on the family who owned this restaurant before you. Did you know them?"

The proprietor's round, honest face looked perplexed. "Yes, master. They were my parents. They died eleven years ago. My wife and I have been running the business ever since." He gestured toward the kitchen, where a woman stirred steaming pots on a hearth amid chopping blocks heaped with sliced vegetables.

"I must have the wrong place," Sano said. "The people I'm interested in died just two years ago. They had a daughter named Haru."

He was about to ask whether the proprietor knew the family, when the man went deathly pale, dropped to his knees, and uttered an anguished moan: "Haru-chan…"

The woman ran out from the kitchen. Small and slender, with graying hair piled atop her head, she scolded her husband, "We agreed never to speak of her again!" Then she took a second look at the man, and her rage faded into concern. "What's wrong?" She turned wary eyes on Sano. "Who are you?"

"He's the shogun's
sōsakan-sama
," the proprietor said in a choked voice. "He asked about her."

"Then you know Haru?" Sano said, baffled by the couple's reaction.

"No." The woman shot her husband a warning glance.

He lifted bleak eyes to Sano. "She was our daughter."

"Your daughter? But I understood that Haru was an orphan whose parents died of a fever."

Misery slumped the proprietor's shoulders. "Whoever told you that was wrong. We are alive. It is Haru who is dead."

Trying to make sense of the conversation, Sano shook his head. "Haru is at the Zōjō Temple convent." He explained about the fire and murders, and Haru's situation. The couple listened in blank silence: Apparently they hadn't heard the news. "I think there's been a misunderstanding," Sano said. "We can't be talking about the same --- "

Grunting noises came from the man, and Sano realized that he was weeping, although his eyes were tearless. The woman pressed her hands against ashen cheeks. She murmured, "Oh, no."

In the kitchen a pot boiled over; moisture sizzled on hot coals, and clouds of steam rose. The woman rushed to the stove and removed the pot. The man stood, his movements shaky. "There's no misunderstanding," he said sadly. "The Haru you speak of is our daughter. She is dead to us, but we've known all along that she was out in the world somewhere."

So Haru had lied about being an orphan. Disturbed, but not really surprised, Sano wondered whether she'd told the truth about anything. "Did she run away?" Then another possibility occurred to him. "You disowned her."

"After what she did?" The woman returned, wiping her hands on a cloth. Indignation distorted her face. Now Sano saw a resemblance to Haru in her small build, wide brow, and delicate features. "We had no choice!"

"What did Haru do?" Sano asked.

"For you to understand, I must begin the story at the beginning," said the proprietor. "Two years ago, we had a regular customer --- a wealthy Shinjuku rice broker named Yoichi. He came to Kojimachi every few days to shop at the hunters' market, and he often ate at our restaurant."

"Haru was growing up into a pretty young woman," the wife said. "Yoichi-san was a widower, and he took a liking to her. He asked for her hand in marriage."

"It was a good match," said the proprietor. "As a rich man's wife, she would live in a fine house and be secure. She could care for us in our old age. Her children would have everything, and inherit a fortune." Financial gain was always an important factor when arranging a daughter's marriage. "So we accepted Yoichi-san's proposal."

"But Haru didn't want to marry him because he was old and ugly. Such a disobedient, ungrateful girl!" Disgust tightened the wife's mouth. "But it was her duty to marry the man we chose for her."

"A month after the wedding, in the middle of the night, Yoichi-san's house burned down. The fire brigade found him and the servants dead in the ruins. But Haru turned up at our door the next morning. She was covered with soot. There were burns on her hands and clothes." Spreading his hands in a helpless gesture, the proprietor said, "Of course we took her in."

A chill spread through Sano. Fires were common, yet Haru had been involved in one that bore a sinister resemblance to the one at the Black Lotus Temple. Was it mere coincidence, or more reason to justify his suspicion of Haru?

"We knew right away that something was wrong," the wife said. "Haru was so happy to be home. She didn't seem sorry about the fire. When we asked how she'd managed to get out alive, she said she woke up and found her bedchamber filled with smoke. She said she ran through the flames, screaming for her husband, but he didn't answer, and she couldn't find him.

"She jumped off the rear balcony, and the next thing she knew, she was lying in the street, with people trying to revive her and the fire brigade throwing water on the house. But Haru couldn't explain why she woke up while the others didn't. We asked why she hadn't gotten hurt when she jumped off the balcony, and she said she'd tied a quilt to the rail and climbed down it. But if that was so, then why did she say she'd jumped? How did she get knocked unconscious? She looked nervous and guilty and said she must have fainted."

"Later we heard that the fire had started in Yoichi-san's bedchamber," said the proprietor. "A neighbor saw a woman run out the gate before the fire brigade came. We asked Haru again and again what happened, and every time, she told a different story, and finally said she couldn't remember."

Despair filled the proprietor's eyes. He and his wife stood apart, but united in shame, their heads bowed. "We began to believe that Haru had set the fire."

"Other people thought so, too," the wife said. "Yoichi-ran's relatives demanded that Haru give them the business and money he'd left her, or they would go to the magistrate and accuse her of arson. She didn't want to give up her inheritance, but we convinced her that she must."

"If the magistrate decided she was guilty, she would be burned to death," Hani's father explained.

"And so would we," the mother added. In cases of serious crime, the offender's family shared his punishment.

"So you kept your suspicions to yourselves," Sano said. The couple nodded. "What happened then?"

"At first we pretended nothing had happened." As if sensing disapproval from Sano, the proprietor said, "Haru was our only child. We loved her." He swallowed hard. "But we couldn't bear to look at her and think she might be a murderess. Haru must have guessed how we felt, because she changed. She'd always been a good girl, but --- "

"Well, she never liked hard work," Hani's mother qualified, "and I had to keep after her to do her chores. She was sometimes rude to customers. I did the best I could with her, but she just had a bad character."

So much for Haru's story of happy, harmonious family life, Sano thought.

"After the fire, Haru began leaving the shop without permission and staying out all day and night," the wife continued. "Many times she came home drunk. She stole from the cash box. Neighbors told us they'd seen her in teahouses with men. We scolded her and beat her, but we couldn't control her. She just cursed at us. We began wondering if she'd disobeyed Yoichi-san and he'd punished her and made her angry, and that was why he died. We were afraid of what she might do to us."

Commander Oyama had also made Haru angry, according to his son, Sano recalled.

"Finally we gave Haru some money and told her to leave." The proprietor gazed out at the rainy street. In the dim light, he looked pale and sick. "For months afterward, I worried about what would become of our daughter. I blamed myself for her evils and wondered what I should have done differently. I mourned her and prayed for her. My wife and I tried to forget her and go on with our lives.

"But now I can see that we were wrong to keep silent about Haru and send her out into the world." The proprietor spoke with remorse. "We should have known she would cause trouble again." He turned a haunted gaze on Sano. "She set the fire at the Black Lotus Temple, didn't she?"

"I'm afraid she may have," Sano said.

She might also have progressed to murder by means other than arson. The new evidence against his prime suspect gave Sano no joy. He deeply pitied Haru's mother and father. How terrible it must be to have a child go bad! Estrangement seemed almost worse than death, and parenthood fraught with hazards. Would Masahiro grow up to be an honorable samurai, or a wayward spirit like Haru? Sano also regretted coming to Kojimachi and hearing Haru's parents' story because he dreaded telling Reiko what he had learned about the girl.

11

If a person should spurn faith in the Black Lotus,

He will be plagued by many ailments.

He wil find himself plundered, robbed, and punished '

As he walks the evil path through life.

----FROM THE BLACK LOTUS SUTRA

Hirata splashed through the puddles in the courtyard of police headquarters, peering from beneath his umbrella at the crowd huddled in the dripping rain. He wondered what had brought so many people here in such bad weather. Under the eaves of the main building, he handed his umbrella to a servant; then he entered the reception room. It was packed with more people standing against pillars and seated on the floor, some puffing tobacco pipes, amid a loud babble of conversation. The warm, stuffy air was thick with smoke. Several
doshin
stood guard. Hirata elbowed his way up to the platform where the clerks sat elevated above the crowd.

"Why are all these people here?" he asked the chief clerk.

Uchida grinned. "They're responding to your notice asking for information about the dead woman and boy at the Black Lotus Temple."

"All of them?" Hirata, who had come to check on whether the notices had gotten any results, gazed around the room in astonishment.

"Every one," Uchida said, "and the folks outside, too."

The nearest bystanders spread the news that the man who'd issued the notices had arrived. The crowd surged toward Hirata waving hands and shouting pleas.

"Quiet!" Hirata ordered. "Stand back! I'll see you one at a time."

Doshin
coaxed and shoved the mob into a line that snaked around the room, while Hirata sat atop the platform. He saw the shaved crowns of samurai among the many commoners. He tried to count heads and stopped at a hundred. Surely all these people couldn't be connected with the two mystery victims.

The first person in line was a frail, stooped peasant woman. Looking anxiously up at Hirata, she said, "My grown son joined the Black Lotus sect last year. I haven't seen or heard from him since, and I'm so worried. Is he dead?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know," Hirata said. "The people in the fire were a woman and a little boy. That was explained in the notice."

"I can't read," said the woman. "I came because I heard you were looking for anyone with family members who disappeared at the tem-ple."

"No. My inquiry doesn't include adult males." Hirata realized that his message had been distorted while spreading through the largely illiterate populace.

"Maybe my son is still alive, then." Hope brightened the woman's wrinkled face. "Please, will you help me find him?"

"I'll try." Hirata wrote down the woman's name, where she lived, and her son's name and age. Then he stood on the platform and addressed the crowd, explaining the purpose of his notice and describing the victims. "Everyone who's here about missing persons who don't fit those descriptions should come back later and make a report to the police."

Rumbles of disappointment stirred the crowd, but no one got out of line. A man with the coarse appearance of a laborer stepped up to the platform. "My daughter is missing," he said.

"How old is she?" Hirata asked.

Before the laborer could answer, a burly samurai shoved him aside and said to Hirata, "I refuse to wait any longer. I demand to speak to you now."

"Get in line," Hirata ordered. "Wait your turn."

"My three-year-old son disappeared in the spring." The samurai, whose garments bore a floral crest that marked him as a retainer of the Kane clan, stood firm. "His mother took him shopping in Nihonbashi.

She lost him in the crowd. Storekeepers saw three Black Lotus priests putting a little boy into a palanquin. They stole my son."

"They stole my daughter, too," said the laborer. "She was playing outside. The priests and nuns are always in our street, inviting people to join the sect and giving the children candy. When they left that day, they took my girl with them."

"How do you know?" Hirata asked, intrigued by the accusations.

"Other children have disappeared after the Black Lotus visited. Everyone knows the Black Lotus steals them," said the laborer.

Shouts rang out along the line: "They took my child, too!"

"And mine!"

"And mine!"

Amazed consternation jolted Hirata. It hardly seemed possible that the sect was involved in so many disappearances. Had mass delusion infected these people?

"When I went to the temple to look for my son, the priests threw me out," said the samurai. "I went to the police, and they said they would look into the matter, but they've done nothing. I came here hoping you could help me."

Hirata took pity on the samurai, whose son's age fell in the range Dr. Ito had specified for the dead boy in the cottage. He wrote down the samurai's name and information, then turned to Uchida. "This is going to take forever. Will you help out?"

"Of course," Uchida said.

Hirata announced, "Everyone who's here about missing children and the Black Lotus sect, form a new line."

A general shift divided the crowd in two roughly equal portions. Hirata remembered the story that Sano had told him this morning, about a novice monk who'd accused the Black Lotus of imprisoning followers. Sano should be interested to hear of this new development.

Hirata and Uchida spent the next several hours on interviews. Many people wanted to talk about missing relatives who bore no resemblance to the murder victims, just to register complaints about the Black Lotus sect.

"With so many incidents, why didn't the police begin investigating long ago?" Hirata asked Uchida.

"Maybe they didn't know about the situation," Uchida said. "It's news to me, and I thought I knew everything that happened around town."

Upon questioning the citizens, Hirata learned that most had reported the disappearances to local
doshin
instead of coming to police headquar-ters. Perhaps the higher officials hadn't yet reviewed the reports and discerned the magnitude of the problem or a connection between the incidents. But Hirata, who knew about the rampant corruption in the police force, suspected a cover-up.

By noon, Uchida had compiled forty listings of missing young boys. Hirata amassed even more possibilities for the dead woman, but no one had recognized the jade sleeping-deer amulet found on the body. The line seemed endless; as people left the room, more streamed in from the courtyard. With a sigh, Hirata greeted the next person in line.

It was a carpenter in his thirties, who carried a box of tools. His eyes and mouth turned down at the corners in a permanently sad expression; wood shavings clung to his cropped hair. He took one look at the amulet and began to weep.

"That belongs to my wife. It was made by her grandfather, who was a jade carver." The carpenter wiped his eyes with a calloused hand. "Chie used to wear it on a string around her waist for good luck."

Hirata experienced a thrill of gratification, tempered by pity. "My sincere condolences," he said, climbing off the platform. "Please come with me."

Over the crowd's protests, he led the carpenter to a small vacant office with a barred window overlooking the stables. Hirata invited the carpenter to sit, and served him tea.

"Tell me about your wife," Hirata said gently.

The carpenter clutched his tea bowl in both hands and drank thirstily, as if drawing sustenance from the hot liquid. Then he spoke with sorrowful nostalgia: "Chie and I have been married twelve years. We have two sons. My business has prospered. Chie had learned the art of healing from her mother, and she earned money by treating sick neighbors. We were very happy together. But four years ago, everything changed."

Grief twisted his face. Hirata poured him more tea. He gulped it, then said, "Nuns from the Black Lotus Temple came to our street. They said that their high priest could show us the path to enlightenment and invited us to the temple. I was too busy working, but Chie went. And she came home a different person. She went back to the temple again and again. At home, she spent hours chanting. She stopped keeping house. She ignored the children. She wouldn't let me touch her. I begged her to tell me why she was acting so strangely, but she wouldn't talk. I scolded her and ordered her to do her duty as a wife and mother. I forbade her to leave the house.

"One night, she ran away. She took all our money. I knew she'd gone to the Black Lotus Temple." The carpenter explained sadly, "It had happened in other families, you see. The high priest would cast a spell over people, and they'd forsake everything to join him. He would steal their souls and all their worldly property."

"And you just let your wife go? For four years you did nothing?" Hirata couldn't believe this.

"I tried my best to get Chie back!" The carpenter's eyes blazed with his eagerness to convince; his words rushed forth: "I asked the neighborhood headman and the police for help, but they said there was nothing they could do. I went to the temple and begged Chie to come home. She refused. The priests told me to stay away. But I went back the very next day, with the children. Chie wouldn't even look at them. The priests chased us out. I vowed never to give up, but then…"

Despair quenched the carpenter's animation. "Bad things started happening. My brother fell off the roof of a house we were building and broke his leg. Later, some thugs beat me up. Then there was a fire in a cloth shop where I was doing repairs. It burned all the goods, and I had to pay for the damage. I borrowed from a moneylender and went deeply into debt.

"Soon afterward, a Black Lotus priest came to my house. He said my bad luck was caused by a spell that the high priest had cast upon the enemies of the sect. If I didn't stay away from the temple, worse misfortunes would befall me. I'd heard of the same thing happening to other people who tried to get relatives out of the temple. I couldn't risk my family's safety or livelihood. So…"

A ragged sigh issued from the carpenter. "I let Chie go. I hoped she would someday regain her senses and the sect would lose its power over her. But now my hope is gone. I'll never see my wife again in this world."

Hirata contemplated what he'd just heard. Assuming that the carpenter was telling the truth, how did this scenario relate to the murders? While the superstitious part of Hirata believed in magic spells, the policeman in him thought it more likely that human hands had caused the carpenter's troubles. The Black Lotus must have sent members to menace people who interfered with their business. They used violence and fire as weapons. Perhaps they'd strangled Chie and tried to burn her body in the cottage; but if so, then why?

He posed the question to the carpenter, who said, "I don't know.

My Chie was a good, kind woman who loved helping people and would never have hurt anyone. But maybe she changed during those four years at the temple. Maybe she made enemies."

Hirata wondered whether these might include an orphan girl named Haru. Thinking of the two other victims, he said, "Did your wife know Police Commander Oyama, the man whose body was found in the fire?"