Fury leapt in Sano’s gaze, and Reiko realized to her dismay that he’d perceived her rashly spoken questions as an attack on his honor. As she and Sano stood paralyzed, gazes locked, the air around them compressed into a dense, stormy space; Midori and Hirata watched them in helpless consternation.

“I’m sorry,” Reiko stammered, aware that she’d had much else to apologize for recently, but nothing as bad as this. “I didn’t mean…”

With slow, deliberate movements that betrayed his battle for control over his temper, Sano walked back to his desk and sat. His face hardened into a stony, emotionless mask. “I forbid you to go to the Black Lotus Temple or to Shinagawa,” he said in a quiet tone that vibrated with suppressed rage. “Now please leave me.”

Numb with shock, Reiko staggered blindly from the room.

Midori followed her. Hirata came hurrying down the corridor after them. “Midori-san,” he said, “wait. I want to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” Midori tossed her head.

Trembling and sick inside, Reiko walked into her private chamber and knelt on the floor. Would that she could relive the past moments differently!

Midori burst into the room. Radiant with joy, she exclaimed, “I did what you suggested, and it’s working!” She knelt near Reiko and giggled. “For the first time in ages, Hirata-san really noticed me.” Then she took a closer look at Reiko, and her jubilation subsided. “What’s wrong?”

Silent weeping twisted Reiko’s mouth. How she envied Midori, who’d obviously understood little of what had happened in Sano’s office. How wonderful to be so young, frivolous, and absorbed in romance!

Midori said soothingly, “The sōsakan-sama was very angry, but don’t worry-he’ll forgive you.”

Reiko wanted to believe Midori, but she couldn’t.

“What are you going to do?” Midori asked.

To restore peace with Sano, Reiko knew she should end her inquiries; yet circumstances had locked her into defending Haru, for right or wrong, in spite of everything she’d learned about her.

“Tomorrow I’m going with Lady Keisho-in to see High Priest Anraku,” she said. “Afterward, I’ll travel to Shinagawa.” Resolve calmed Reiko; she wiped her tears on her sleeve.

“But won’t that make the sōsakan-sama even angrier at you?” Midori said, her face a picture of concern.

“I’m afraid so,” Reiko said unhappily.

Carrying on her investigation against his will might permanently estrange her from Sano. The knowledge chilled Reiko. But this case now involved more than just discovering who’d committed the crimes at the Black Lotus Temple. Sano had imperiled his honor by allowing political concerns to influence him. Reiko had a duty to protect it by convincing him to pursue real justice instead of seizing the quickest solution to the case, and to save his career by preventing him from making a mistake that would disgrace the whole family.

And she was determined to find out the truth about Haru once and for all.

“Then you’re going to disobey anyway?” Midori said.

“I can’t stand by and see my husband ruined and Haru incriminated while a killer goes free,” Reiko said. The investigation had produced two alternative culprits-Haru or the Black Lotus-and Reiko felt justified in her choice, which her intuition still favored. “I must do what’s right.”

“Then let me help you.” Eagerness lit up Midori’s eyes. “We can go out together tomorrow, and you can teach me to be a detective. We’ll show the men what we can do!”

Humor leavened Reiko’s unhappiness. She smiled at Midori, who apparently saw the situation as a contest of men versus women, with Hirata’s love the prize.

“Many thanks for your generous offer, but I don’t want to get you in trouble, so I’d better go by myself,” Reiko said. Then, seeing Midori’s disappointed expression, she fibbed, “I’ll try to find something else for you to do.”

“Oh, good!” Midori beamed.

Sano sat in his office, his elbows propped on the desk, shaken and horrified. How could Reiko speak such insults? How could he feel such rage toward her? An evil spirit had invaded their home, breeding discord and malice.

Its name was Haru.

With the impassioned regret of hindsight, Sano wished he’d never involved Reiko with Haru. He knew better than to think that Reiko would give up trying to exonerate the girl. Yet even as Sano wondered how he could separate Reiko from a murder suspect, a needle of self-doubt pierced his conscience. In his perpetual insecurity about his position, was he indeed succumbing to political pressure to arrest Haru because she represented the quickest way to solve the case? Sano cradled his head in his hands. He’d thought himself a man of honor and objective judgment, but now he questioned his own character.

Was Reiko right about him, and Haru, and the Black Lotus?

“Sōsakan-sama, there’s something I must say,” Hirata said.

Jolted out of his troubled reverie, Sano looked up at his chief retainer, who sat opposite him: He’d not noticed Hirata enter. “Go ahead,” he said.

“Those citizens I interviewed were so sure that the Black Lotus is evil, I started to believe it,” Hirata said haltingly. “If you’d met them, I think you would, too. I didn’t want to say this earlier, but…” Hirata’s face reflected deep conflict within him. “Their testimony is serious indication that the sect is involved in bad business. I’m sorry to disagree with you.”

“That’s all right.” Sano endured the sting that Hirata’s words caused him. The duties of a chief retainer included voicing unpleasant, necessary truths to his master.

“Ignoring the signs could ruin the investigation,” Hirata added.

“I know.” Sano could admit to Hirata what he couldn’t to Reiko. “We’ll have to check out those stories about the sect.” He thought for a moment, then said, “I’ll decline Minister Fugatami’s invitation. I don’t think a trip to Shinagawa is necessary yet, because we can tap another source of facts about the Black Lotus.”

“Who is that?” Hirata asked.

“The prime suspect herself,” Sano said. “It’s time for another visit with Haru.”

Night enfolded the Zōjō temple district. Diffuse moonlight frosted the roofs and treetops, but darkness saturated the deserted alleys. Sleep had silenced ten thousand voices, slowed heartbeats, stilled movement. The autumn wind’s hushed breath absorbed the exhalations of slumber.

Priest Kumashiro stood in an underground room beneath the Black Lotus Temple. In a corner huddled the monk Pious Truth. Ropes bound his wrists and ankles; swollen bruises discolored his face and naked body. Two priests, holding wooden clubs, stood over him. Pious Truth was panting, slick with sweat, his terrified gaze focused on Kumashiro.

“Has he confessed?” Kumashiro asked the priests.

They shook their heads. Pious Truth cried, “I didn’t tell her anything, I swear!”

But Kumashiro believed Pious Truth had indeed revealed Black Lotus secrets to Lady Reiko. She must have told the sōsakan-sama, whom Kumashiro had seen prowling the temple grounds today. Entrances to the subterranean complex were well hidden, but Kumashiro had to learn the full extent of the breach in security.

He crouched before the monk and said in a quiet, menacing voice, “What did you say to her?”

Pious Truth cowered, but spoke defiantly: “Nothing.”