warning look, bade farewell to Dr. Ito, then left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
In the prison’s main courtyard, Sano found Hirata with the hundred men who staffed Edo Jail. The few samurai officials stood together. Forty guards had lined up in rows nearby. These were petty criminals-thieves, gangsters, brawlers, confidence men-sentenced to work in the jail. They sported cropped haircuts, cotton kimonos and leggings, and various clubs, daggers, and spears. Apart from the rest knelt the eta. Everyone bowed to Sano.
“Who was on duty in the women’s wing last night?” Sano asked them.
Three men stepped forward from the ranks of the guards.
“You found Haru after she was attacked?” Sano said.
“Yes, master,” chorused the guards.
“Do you know who attacked her?”
They shook their heads, but Sano saw their feet shift uneasily. He didn’t think they had beaten Haru, but he guessed whom they would want to protect. He walked along the rows of guards, scrutinizing them, until one caught his attention. This guard was in his twenties, with slitty eyes under a low brow. While the other men wore old, faded, patched kimonos, the indigo fabric of his garment was dark and new.
“Where were you last night?” Sano asked him.
“Asleep in the barracks.” The guard stood with his hands clasped behind him.
Sano grabbed the guard’s hands, yanked them around, and inspected them. Raw, red scratches marked the wrists. “How did you get these?”
“I was playing with a cat,” the guard muttered, pulling out of Sano’s grasp.
“A cat named Haru?”
On a hunch, Sano lifted the guard’s kimono. He saw a dingy loincloth covered with brownish bloodstains: The man had changed his outer clothes after assaulting Haru, but not his underwear. Disgust filled Sano. His belief that Haru was a killer limited his sympathy for her, but he abhorred people who preyed on the helpless.
“Who were your accomplices?” he demanded.
Down the row, another guard started running toward the gate. Hirata and two other detectives chased and caught him. They forced him to the ground. Sano walked over to the captive; who lay facedown while the detectives held him.
“He’s one of the attackers,” Hirata said, pointing to the scratches on the guard’s arms.
The warden joined them. “These two men are known for sporting with female prisoners,” he said.
Then the attack on Haru was an ordinary incident of violence at Edo Jail and unrelated to the murder case, Sano thought. Still, he needed to be certain. He addressed the guard: “Why did you torture Haru?”
“We just wanted a little fun,” the man whined.
“Who was the third accomplice?”
“We didn’t do anything that doesn’t happen here all the time,” the man said.
“Never mind the excuses,” Sano said. “Answer me.”
“There wasn’t anyone else. Just the two of us.”
While her guards stood watch outside the cell, Reiko had helped Dr. Ito undress Haru and bathe her. Dr. Ito had applied healing salve to her wounds, bandaged them, and fed her a potion containing herbs to strengthen her system and opium to relieve pain. He’d promised to check on Haru later, then left. Now Haru lay on fresh straw, wearing a clean robe, covered by a blanket. Reiko sat beside her.
“Have you any idea why those men attacked you?” Reiko asked.
Haru’s bruised face relaxed as the sedative began to take effect. She said in a soft, drowsy voice, “He wanted me to confess to killing those people and setting the fire. He said that if I didn’t, he would hurt me even worse, then kill me.”
An ominous chill passed through Reiko. Apparently, Haru was talking about the gang’s leader, who’d had a purpose more sinister than blood sport. “Why did he want you to confess?”
“I don’t know.” Haru yawned. “He didn’t say.”
“Who was he?”
“… I don’t know.”
However, Reiko could think of a good explanation. The Black Lotus must have decided that forcing Haru to confess would stop the investigation into the sect. The thugs must be followers of High Priest Anraku, sent by him to threaten Haru. This scenario strengthened Reiko’s belief that Haru knew too much about the sect’s clandestine business, and Anraku wanted her to take her secrets to the grave. Reiko became determined to remove Haru from Edo Jail. Therefore, she must convince Sano that Haru needed special protection and had knowledge that would further his investigation.
“Haru-san, you must tell me what you saw and heard while you were living at the Black Lotus Temple,” Reiko said.
The girl stirred. She murmured, “What kinds of things?”
“Secret underground rooms and tunnels,” Reiko said. “Novices being starved, imprisoned, tortured, or killed.”
Haru tossed her head from side to side. Sleepy anxiety puckered her face.
Reiko thought she knew the reason for the girl’s agitation. “High Priest Anraku took you in and you feel indebted to him, but if you want to save yourself, you must tell the truth.”
“Anraku…” Haru’s voice trailed off on a sad, lonely note. “Why has he forsaken me?”
“What is the sect planning?” Reiko asked urgently. “Did Anraku order the attacks in Shinagawa? Is he going to do something worse?”
“No,” Haru protested weakly. “He’s good. He’s wonderful. I love him. I thought he loved me.”
She closed her eyes as if the conversation had exhausted her, and Reiko saw the veil of sleep descending upon her. Reiko believed that Haru knew more than a misguided sense of loyalty allowed her to tell. Might Anraku have enchanted Haru as he had other followers? Could Haru have been involved in his schemes? The cold touch of suspicion disturbed Reiko, yet as she looked down at Haru’s small, battered figure, her instincts insisted that Haru could still be basically good, despite the mistakes she’d made. Besides, it seemed improbable that the sect would have entrusted important facts to her. Still, Reiko wondered how strong was Anraku’s hold on Haru, and what Haru might have done for the high priest.
“Haru-san,” she said, “if you tell me what the Black Lotus is up to, I may be able to get you out of jail.”
The girl lay asleep, her breathing slow and even. Her eyelids fluttered, and a moan issued from her parted lips. She said, “I didn’t know he was there.”
“Who?” Reiko said, startled.
“Radiant Spirit,” Haru murmured. Her eyes remained closed; she was apparently talking in her sleep. “Chie’s little boy.”
“Chie had a child named Radiant Spirit?” Reiko wondered if this was fact, or a fabrication of Haru’s dreams.
Under the blanket, Haru twitched. “I didn’t want to him to get hurt,” she cried. “He wasn’t supposed to be there. It was an accident!”
“Where?” Premonition solidified into a cold, sinking weight inside Reiko.
“In the cottage,” Haru said.
Then she sighed, and her restless movements ceased. She slept peacefully while Reiko beheld her in horror. It sounded as though Haru meant she’d set the cottage on fire and accidentally burned the child because she hadn’t known he was inside. Had she started the fire to destroy the bodies of Commander Oyama and Chie-the people she really had intended to hurt, and had indeed killed?
The terrible possibility held Reiko in a stunned thrall. Over the pounding of her heart, she heard women shouting down the corridor, and a guard ordering them to be quiet. All her doubts about Haru rose up in her. The lies, the fire that had killed her husband, her repeated attempts to incriminate other people, her bond with High
