Reiko hurried around a cluster of pines and saw Haru standing near a lily pond in the secluded garden, her back pressed against a boulder. A priest loomed over the girl.

“Leave me alone!” Haru tried to squirm away, but the priest planted his hands on the stone surface on either side of her, preventing her escape.

“You’ve had your chance to cooperate voluntarily,” he said. In his early forties, he was tall and strong; sinewy muscles corded his neck and bare arms. His domed head sloped to a low forehead, flat nose, full lips, and jutting chin. “Now I’ve run out of patience.”

He clamped his big hand across Haru’s throat and shoved. The girl’s back arched; her head slammed against the boulder. She cried, “Help!”

Reiko dropped her package, rushed over, and grabbed the priest’s arm. It felt hot and hard, like iron newly tempered in a forge. “What are you doing?” She saw scars crisscrossing his bare scalp, the most prominent one a raised seam that ran from the corner of his eye over his ear, ending in an incrustation of flesh that resembled a lizard. Revulsion filled Reiko as she tried to pull the priest away from Haru. “Stop!”

The priest looked down at Reiko. Harsh lines carved the skin around his mouth. Heavy, slanting brows added menace to his frown. His arm shot out, flinging Reiko aside. Then he turned back to Haru, increasing the pressure on her throat.

Choked cries emanated from Haru; she clawed at the priest’s hands. Outraged, Reiko drew the dagger strapped to her arm under her sleeve.

She jabbed the priest’s back with the blade, ordering, “Get away from her!”

He didn’t even flinch. He didn’t seem to notice Haru’s fingernails tearing bloody scratches on his hand. “You set the fire,” he said, bearing down on Haru. “Confess!”

Haru’s face reddened; her eyes rolled in terror. Her voice emerged in a strangled whisper: “No!”

Reiko didn’t want to injure the priest, but she had to save Haru. “Guards!” she called. Her five escorts came running. “Stop him!”

In an instant, the guards had the priest pinned facedown on the grass. Haru crumpled beside the boulder, coughing and clutching her throat.

“Are you all right?” Reiko asked, touching the girl’s shoulder.

With a shaky, grateful smile, Haru nodded.

Reiko bent over the priest, holding the dagger against his neck. “Who are you?” she demanded.

Twisting his head sideways to look at Reiko, the priest regarded her with scorn, as though she were at his mercy, not the reverse. “Withdraw your weapon,” he said. “Release me.”

His manner made it obvious that he would say no more unless she complied. Reiko sheathed her dagger and nodded to her guards. They hauled the priest to his feet and stood around him lest he try to attack.

“Who are you?” Reiko repeated.

“My name is Kumashiro. “ He scrutinized Reiko with a hostile, unblinking gaze. His rough voice sounded like rocks shifting during an earthquake.

“From the Black Lotus Temple?”

The priest nodded curtly, although disdain twisted his mouth. “Who are you to ask?”

“I’m Lady Reiko, wife of the shogun’s sōsakan-sama,” Reiko said, observing the sudden wariness that hooded Kumashiro’s eyes. “I’m investigating the fire at the temple. What is your position there?”

“I am second-in-command to High Priest Anraku, and chief security officer for the Black Lotus sect.”

Reiko thought it odd that a Buddhist temple should be organized on such militaristic lines, or require a security staff. Did this have anything to do with prisoners, underground construction, and secret projects?

“You’re a former samurai?” Reiko said, hazarding a guess based on Kumashiro’s scars, physique, and arrogance.

“Yes.”

“Whom did you serve?”

“My clan are retainers to Lord Matsudaira, daimyo of Echigo Province.”

“What is your business with Haru?” Reiko gestured toward the orphan girl, who cowered against the boulder, biting her fingernails.

Kumashiro’s contemptuous gaze flicked over Haru. “I was questioning her about the fire.”

“The shogun has assigned my husband the job of investigating the arson,” Reiko said, stifling her anger. Kumashiro was obviously the common type of man who disdained women as inferiors, but she sensed in him an abnormal hatred for her sex. “You’ve no right to interfere.”

“The safety of the Black Lotus sect is my responsibility,” Kumashiro said, “as is anyone who harms its members or property.” He bared jagged teeth in an unpleasant smile. “You can save your husband a lot of trouble by going away and leaving Haru to me. I shall get her confession, and the sōsakan-sama shall get the criminal he seeks.”

Here was another official who seemed determined to pin the crimes on Haru. “How can you be so sure that Haru has done harm?” Reiko asked the priest. “Where were you when the murders were committed and the fire set?”

A gleam of amusement in Kumashiro’s eyes told Reiko that the priest recognized her intent to cast him as an alternative suspect. “Between sunset and dawn, I made my usual three tours of inspection around the temple grounds, and spent the rest of the time in my quarters. My lieutenants can confirm this-they never left me.”

Another dubious alibi that would be hard to break, Reiko thought unhappily.

“Haru has admitted that she left the orphanage to meet Commander Oyama,” Kumashiro continued with an air of satisfaction. “She admitted that they were lovers, and they used the cottage for their illicit liaisons.”

Shock hit Reiko like a fist to the heart. Even if Kumashiro had forced Haru to incriminate herself, Oyama’s son also claimed that Haru had been involved with the commander.

“Is it true?” Reiko anxiously asked Haru. “Were you having an affair with Commander Oyama, in the cottage where he died?”

The orphan girl ducked her head. Mute, with her face hidden behind lank strands of hair, she looked the picture of guilty shame. Reiko’s heart sank.

“She wanted to be the wife of a powerful bakufu official, so she seduced Oyama,” said Kumashiro. “When she found out that he had no intention of marrying her, she killed him for spite.”

In Reiko’s mind rose an image of Haru glaring at Oyama and spitting on the ground at his feet, as clear as if she’d witnessed the incident that Oyama’s son had described to Sano. She remembered Abbess Junketsu-in saying that Haru had seduced novice priests. Had Oyama exploited Haru, or had Haru used sex to serve her ambitions-then committed murder and arson when her ploy failed?

Reiko envisioned the case as a lotus bud slowly opening to reveal first a white petal, then a black one, then more whites and blacks, with Haru at the center. Every piece of information contradicted or complemented another, painting Haru as either victim or criminal.

“You seem very certain of your theory,” Reiko said to Kumashiro, “but perhaps the crimes stemmed from other illicit activities in the Black Lotus Temple.”

“Such as?” The priest smirked, as though humoring her, but the tendons in his neck tightened.

“Such as the imprisonment and torture of novices. Or the breeding of children by nuns and priests. Or the construction of underground rooms, and the business that takes place there.”

Reiko knew that by voicing these accusations she was putting the sect on its guard; yet she hoped to goad Kumashiro into an admission, because she couldn’t count on Sano to investigate the temple. Regardless of his promise to her and his dedication to the truth, he thought Haru was guilty and the Black Lotus a legitimate sect; he might overlook evidence that said otherwise. The realization that she was losing trust in her husband dismayed Reiko.

“I wonder if the woman in the cottage was a novice who tried to escape, and the child an orphan who died from torture during religious indoctrination,” Reiko said.

Kumashiro laughed, a sound like gravel scattering against steel. “Who told you those ridiculous rumors?”