In the court, the audience and secretaries had departed. Sano, Hirata, and Magistrate Ueda lingered inside the doorway.
“This is a sorry business,” the magistrate said. “I hope that a disaster of such magnitude never happens again.”
The death toll from the battle at the temple numbered six hundred forty Black Lotus members and fifty-eight of Sano’s troops. A later search of the tunnels had turned up the ashes and bones of countless cremated bodies. And two hundred ninety captured sect members had been executed.
“Still, it could have been worse,” Sano said. “My men captured most of the fugitives near Zojo Temple, and the police have caught more on the outskirts of Edo. Hopefully, that’s all there are.”
He heard the hollow note in his own voice. The experience had left him drained and shaken. Memories of the carnage robbed him of appetite and sleep. He didn’t know the identities of the people he’d slain, and it bothered him that he could take lives and not know whose, or how many. Yesterday he’d attended a mass funeral for his retainers killed in the battle; he mourned their deaths. He’d solved the murder case and eliminated a threat to the nation, but he had no sense of accomplishment, despite the shogun’s praise of his valor. And his difficulties with Reiko were still unresolved.
Busy from dawn until late at night every day, interrogating captured sect members, testifying at their trials, and supervising the dismantling of the Black Lotus Temple, he’d hardly seen his wife since he’d brought her home from the temple. Reiko had told him some of what had happened in Anraku’s hideout before his arrival there, but otherwise, they’d barely spoken.
“There have been a few minor fires, but no explosions or instances of poisoning,” Hirata said. He wore the same haunted look as did all Sano’s men who’d survived the raid. “And many innocent people have been saved.”
After the battle, Sano’s troops had escorted home to the city the two hundred thirty-four prisoners they’d liberated. A hundred fifty children found underground had been returned to their families or placed orphanages. The orphans of Minister Fugatami now resided with relatives.
“The shogun has issued an edict outlawing the sect,” Sano said. “Lady Keisho-in has, on the advice of Priest Ryuko, denounced the Black Lotus. And with Anraku dead, there seems little chance of its revival.” Whether or not the high priest had really possessed supernatural powers, Reiko had rid the world of a great evil. “Tokugawa troops have occupied the temple, confiscated Anraku’s gold, and begun demolishing the buildings and filling in the tunnels. And the bakufu will conduct more rigorous monitoring of other religious orders in the future.”
Yet Sano bitterly rued that the shogun had waited so long to quell the Black Lotus. He also wondered how much of the blame he himself deserved for the disaster. If he had believed Reiko when she’d told him Pious Truth’s story, could the sect have been disbanded sooner and peacefully?
He would never know.
“How does the elimination of Black Lotus influence from within high levels of society progress?” said Magistrate Ueda.
“Kumashiro and Junketsu-in have revealed names of bakufu officials who belonged to the sect,” Sano said. Among them was his own Detective Hachiya, who’d betrayed the spy team he’d sent to the temple. “Some had joined Anraku’s army and have turned up among the captured priests, or the dead. The survivors included the men who murdered the Fugatami. They’ll all be allowed to commit seppuku. Others who didn’t directly participate in the attack will be exiled.” A quiet purge had already begun in Edo Castle. “We’ve also gotten names of Black Lotus followers among the daimyo, merchant, and lower classes.”
“I am prepared to conduct as many more trials as necessary,” Magistrate Ueda said, resigned.
The process of meting out justice to the Black Lotus seemed endless. Disheartened by the thought of all the work that was yet to be done, Sano said, “Hirata-san and I must be going. We have a jail full of prisoners to interview.”
They’d already spent many hours questioning the captured priests and nuns, who numbered so many that they’d overflowed the jail cells and had been housed in tents in the compound. Day and night they chanted, “Praise the glory of the Black Lotus.” So far none of them had shown remorse for the attack. All refused to accept the fact that Anraku was dead, and all still believed themselves destined for glorious enlightenment. Interrogating them, Sano had looked into souls consumed by fanaticism-Anraku’s legacy. The experience unnerved Sano, and he longed for it to be over.
“May I offer a word of advice?” Magistrate Ueda asked. At Sano’s nod, he said, “Please spare the time to take care of matters at home. You’ll be better off for it.”
Trepidation daunted Sano, but he nodded, because he knew the magistrate was right. It was time for a talk with Reiko.
At Sano’s estate, Midori sat in the nursery, watching Reiko and the maids give Masahiro his supper. The room was bright with lanterns; charcoal braziers warmed the chill, damp twilight. Masahiro gobbled rice gruel and chattered happily.
“That’s a good boy.” Reiko smiled at her son. “Eat plenty. Grow big and strong.”
Midori, who had received permission from Sano and Lady Keisho-in to stay in the mansion for as long as she needed to recuperate from her ordeal, tried to enjoy the cozy, familiar scene, but a restless melancholy disturbed her spirit. Everything looked the same as before the fire and murders at the Black Lotus Temple, yet so much had changed.
Reiko and Sano seemed permanently divided. Midori knew that Reiko was upset about this and the disaster at the temple, although she put on a cheerful front. And Midori herself had lost her usual brightness of outlook and buoyancy of heart. After meeting Anraku, after seeing what he’d done to people and made them do for him, the world seemed a darker place. Midori now knew herself to be susceptible to evil influences-and death. Worse, she hadn’t even accomplished the purposes that had driven her to spy on the sect.
Sano had told her that she needn’t bear witness against the Black Lotus because the war at the temple had provided the shogun enough proof of its evil to disband the sect. Thus, Midori had been spared the public disgrace of telling about her experiences in the temple and her reputation saved from scandal. Yet she regretted that her suffering had been in vain, and she’d helped Reiko not at all. And Hirata had been too busy to see her during the time since he’d brought her here from the temple. Because of the drug given her there, Midori had little recollection of that night. She thought she remembered Hirata hugging her and exclaiming, “Thank the gods you’re alive!” But maybe it had been a delusion. Certainly, she was as far from winning Hirata as ever.
As Midori tried to feel glad to be alive and forget her ordeal, she heard footsteps in the corridor. Sano and Hirata appeared in the doorway. Midori’s heart began hammering in painful, joyous agitation that she hid by casting her eyes downward. Masahiro called out gaily to his father, but an uneasy silence descended upon everyone else.
Reiko spoke first. “I wasn’t expecting you home so soon.”
“Yes, well.” Obviously at a loss for words, Sano hesitated.
The maids gathered up Masahiro and left the room. Hirata said in a somber voice, “Midori-san, will you come for a walk with me?”
Wild hope leapt in Midori, but she was so nervous that she could barely look at Hirata. She murmured, “All right. Let me put on my outdoor things.”
Soon she was walking beside Hirata along a path through the garden. They looked at the ground instead of at each other. Murky clouds in the twilight sky promised more rain; lights from the house shone through the sodden trees. Trembling with love and anxiety, Midori clasped her hands tightly under her sleeves.
“How are you feeling?” Hirata asked. He’d lost his cockiness; he sounded young and uncertain.
Midori drew a calming breath of moist, pine-scented air. “Much better, thank you.”
They walked for a while without speaking. Hirata picked a leaf off a bush and examined it studiously. “About what you did at the temple…” he began.
Desperate to forestall the humiliation of a scolding from Hirata, Midori blurted, “I know it was wrong. I shouldn’t have gone.” Her voice shook. “You were right-I was stupid to think I could be a detective.”
Hirata halted, flung away the leaf, and faced Midori. “That’s not what I was going to say,” he said
