Although shaken, Reiko wasn’t ready to accept the idea that Haru had lied to her, or the abbess’s implication that Haru had been out setting the fire. First she must reconstruct those missing hours of Haru’s life. Reiko said, “She could have been taken to the cottage against her will. There’s a lump on her head, and she’s covered with bruises.”
A sudden tension stiffened Junketsu-in’s posture. She sipped from her tea bowl, as if needing time to think of a reply. Maybe she hadn’t known about Haru’s injuries and was surprised by the news. But she recovered quickly, saying, “Haru must have done it to herself. She did it once before, when she wanted us to think that a monk she’d seduced had attacked her.”
Although it seemed improbable to Reiko that anyone would hurt herself so badly, Haru had displayed the wounds after her story of lost memory and claim of innocence hadn’t convinced Reiko. Had she set the fire, then tried to make herself look like a victim? Reiko’s sympathy for Haru vied with her knowledge that reliance on a suspect’s story could lead her astray. She must consider Junketsu-in’s accusations, but she wouldn’t let them go unchallenged.
“Did anyone see Haru pouring oil on the cottage and lighting it?” Reiko asked.
Junketsu-in’s slender hands, white and smooth as a highborn lady’s, closed tightly around her tea bowl. A calculating expression came over her features, but she shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
The answer brought Reiko a measure of vindication, although she knew that Sano’s detectives were examining the crime scene, questioning the temple residents, and might eventually connect Haru with the arson. “If you expect me to believe Haru is guilty, then you must either produce some definite evidence or allow me to interview more witnesses,” Reiko said to the abbess.
They regarded each other with mutual dislike. Then stealthy footsteps creaked the floor outside the room. There was a knock at the door, and Junketsu-in called in a sharp, irate tone, “Who is it?”
The door slid open. A man stood at the threshold. “My apologies, Honorable Abbess. I didn’t know you had a guest.”
He was tall and thin, with a large head that looked too heavy for the long stem of his neck. Sparse, graying hair receded from a bulbous forehead. He had a muddy, pitted complexion, and though he seemed in his late thirties, his stooped shoulders gave him a look of more advanced age.
Repugnance shadowed Junketsu-in’s face, but she politely introduced the man to Reiko: “This is Dr. Miwa, the temple physician.”
Upon hearing Reiko’s name and the reason for her visit, Dr. Miwa squinted at her. “I shan’t intrude,” he said, sucking air through unevenly spaced teeth. “I’ll come back at a more convenient time.”
“Yes, please do. ” Junketsu-in sounded more relieved at the prospect of his departure than enthusiastic about his later return.
Reiko said quickly, “I would be honored to have you join us.” She wanted to know why the Black Lotus sect employed a physician, which wasn’t a custom of Buddhist temples, and she wanted another witness to interview.
“If you like,” the abbess said with unconcealed bad grace.
Dr. Miwa slunk into the room and knelt near Reiko. She noticed stains and burns on his faded moss-green cotton kimono. A bitter chemical odor wafted from him.
“How did you come to be employed at the temple?” Reiko asked, puzzled by Dr. Miwa’s poor grooming. In her experience, physicians were clean and neat, and she couldn’t think of any herbal remedy that might produce his strange smell.
“I studied medicine with a prominent physician in Kamakura. After finishing my apprenticeship, I decided to seek my fortune in Edo. When I arrived, I had the good luck of meeting High Priest Anraku, and he offered me a post.” The hiss of sucked air punctuated the doctor’s sentences. He spoke with his head partially turned toward Reiko, as though unwilling to look straight at her. Perhaps he didn’t want to offend her with his ugliness, but she sensed apprehension in him.
“What are your duties?” Reiko said.
“I am honored to assist High Priest Anraku with healing sick, blind, crippled, and insane people who come to him for salvation.” Pride infused Dr. Miwa’s voice. “I also treat the nuns, priests, novices, and orphans when they become ill.”
“Then you know Haru?” Reiko said.
Junketsu-in shot Dr. Miwa a warning glance, which Reiko noted. “Why, yes,” Dr. Miwa replied cautiously.
“What do you think of her?”
“Haru is a most interesting case.” Hiss, exhale. The doctor’s sidelong gaze moved over Reiko, who felt an unpleasant, creeping sensation. “She suffers from an extreme imbalance of the two aspects of nature, the six external factors, and the seven emotions.”
According to the principles of classic Chinese medicine, maintaining equilibrium among these elements was essential to good health, Reiko knew.
In a pedantic tone, Dr. Miwa explained, “Haru has too much yin, the active aspect. She is excessively influenced by han and huo, external and internal heat. Her dominant emotions are nu and ching.” Anger and surprise, Reiko translated. “Although Haru is physically well, her spirit is unhealthy. I’ve been administering treatment in an effort to cure her symptoms.”
“What are her symptoms?” Reiko said, realizing with dismay that Dr. Miwa’s statement wasn’t going to help Haru.
“Willfulness, selfishness, dishonesty, and delusions,” Dr. Miwa said. “Sexual promiscuity, disregard for duty, and a lack of respect for authority.”
He’d corroborated Junketsu-in’s assessment of Haru, lending it the weight of his medical expertise. “Do you think Haru set the fire?” Reiko said.
Another glance passed between the abbess and the doctor, her expression commanding, his at once meek and resentful. “In my professional opinion, yes. Certainly Haru’s hot nature gives her a strong affinity for fire and violence.”
Despite their personal antagonism, Dr. Miwa and Abbess Junketsu-in were evidently united in their aim to incriminate Haru. Reiko saw lust smoldering in Dr. Miwa’s squinty eyes as his furtive gaze licked at her. She stifled a quiver of revulsion and noticed Junketsu-in watching her with narrowed, angry eyes: While the abbess didn’t like Dr. Miwa, she clearly wanted to be the focus of male attention and didn’t welcome competition. Now she lifted her chin and fingered the loose skin underneath. Reiko had noticed similar behavior in older women who envied her for being young, pretty, and desirable.
“I’m interested to know why you’re so eager to convince me that Haru is an arsonist and murderer,” Reiko said to the doctor and the abbess.
“We don’t want you to be taken in by her lies,” Junketsu-in said.
“We want the investigation finished as soon as possible, and the culprit arrested, so that the Black Lotus Temple can recover from this distressing incident,” Dr. Miwa said.
“Are you trying to protect someone?” Reiko asked bluntly.
The abbess regarded her with open scorn, as though their undeclared rivalry had stripped away her polite facade. “If we wanted to protect anyone, we would have concealed Haru’s history from you, because in spite of the trouble she’s caused, Haru is one of us.”
“The Black Lotus is a law-abiding sect. We do not harbor criminals,” Dr. Miwa added, hissing.
“I don’t see that Haru has ever hurt anyone or damaged property before,” Reiko said, growing impatient with the pair’s attempts to prejudice her even as she considered the possibility that they were right about Haru. Although the doctor and the abbess struck her as untrustworthy and their presence in the sect raised questions about its nature, perhaps they were acting with the good intentions they claimed. “Why would Haru burn the cottage?”
“For revenge,” the abbess said. “We don’t put up with disobedience, and we’ve punished Haru by making her go without meals and shutting her in a room by herself to pray. Discipline makes her angry. The fire was her way of getting even.”
Dr. Miwa nodded in agreement. Reiko hid her distress. If Haru really was the sort of person they claimed, then revenge was a logical reason for her to commit arson. Was it also her motive for murder?
“Did Haru know the victims of the fire?” Reiko asked.
