“It lay in my chamber, guarded by my disciples.”

At least this was an alibi Reiko could check, but she grew more uncertain about Anraku and fearful of him. Whether or not his magic powers were genuine, he had real influence over people. According to Hirata and Minister Fugatami, citizens had accused him of extortion, fraud, kidnapping, and violence. Was Anraku a sincere mystic who was unaware of what his followers did, or a madman responsible for the sect’s crimes?

“What was your relationship with Commander Oyama?” Reiko asked.

“He was a generous patron and valued disciple.”

“With your powers, you must have known that he bequeathed twenty thousand koban to your sect.” Reiko hoped to trap Anraku into admitting that he’d had reason to kill Oyama.

“Mere mortals can never know what I know,” Anraku said.

Interpreting his complacent smile to mean that there was no physical proof one way or the other, Reiko said, “Then tell me what you know about the nurse Chie.”

“She had a talent for healing and a wish to do good,” Anraku said.

Reiko guessed that Anraku knew the murdered woman had been identified and that denials were pointless. He also knew better than to give any reason for wishing Chie or Oyama dead.

“Have you any idea who the dead child was?” Reiko said.

“None,” Anraku said.

A shadow of emotion veiled his face, then receded before Reiko could interpret it, but she knew he’d lied. Still, even if he was a murderer, Anraku was a man of influence.

“I wish to prove whether or not Haru committed the crimes,” she said. “What can you tell me of her character?”

Throughout the interview Anraku had sat unnaturally still, but now he flexed his lithe body, as though easing cramped muscles. “Whatever trouble Haru may have caused in the past, my guidance had cured her of bad behavior.”

This wasn’t exactly a testimonial to Haru’s innocence, but maybe his opinion would convince Sano, Reiko hoped.

Lady Keisho-in stirred restlessly. “Enough of this unpleasant talk about murder,” she said. “When can I begin my indoctrination into the Black Lotus?”

“Immediately, if you like.” An acquisitive gleam brightened Anraku’s single eye.

Though Reiko wanted to question him regarding Pious Truth and his accusations against the sect, she had to get the shogun’s mother away from the temple. She said, “Honorable Lady, shouldn’t you consult Priest Ryuko first?”

At the mention of her spiritual advisor and lover, Keisho-in hesitated, then said, “I suppose so.”

“Then let’s go back to Edo Castle.” Reiko hoped the priest would recognize Anraku as competition for his mistress’s favor and dissuade Keisho-in.

“In the meantime, I’ll send a donation as a pledge of my good faith,” Keisho-in promised Anraku.

“My sincere thanks.” Anraku bowed. “I look forward to your return.” As they made their farewells, he shot Reiko a smug glance, as if to say, Oppose me if you will, but I shall win in the end.

During the walk through the precinct, Keisho-in gushed, “Isn’t Anraku wonderful? Like a living god. And he wants me!”

Was he a god, or a charlatan who coveted a share of the Tokugawa power and fortune? “I think he’s dangerous,” Reiko said.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Keisho-in scoffed.

They reached their palanquin, and Reiko said, “Will you excuse me if I don’t go home with you? I have an errand.”

“Very well,” Keisho-in said indifferently.

At least Anraku had distracted her from sex between women, yet Reiko dreaded Sano discovering that she’d involved Keisho-in with the Black Lotus almost as much as she dreaded him finding out about her own close call. And as she ordered her guards to hire a palanquin to take her to Shinagawa, she feared how he would react when he learned she’d disobeyed his order to stay out of Minister Fugatami’s investigation.

Honorable Father-in-law, we’ve come to see Haru,” said Sano. He and Hirata sat in Magistrate Ueda’s private office. The magistrate sat behind his desk, while a maid served tea. Sano said, “How is Haru doing?”

“She’s behaved herself so far,” Magistrate Ueda said. He added contritely, “Forgive me if I’ve upset you by taking her in. I would not normally house a murder suspect, but this time I allowed myself to be persuaded against my better judgment.”

“I know. It’s not your fault. My wife can be very persuasive.”

The thought of Reiko fueled the anger in Sano. Still wounded by her insults and furious at her contrary behavior, he nonetheless ached with lonely need for her. He didn’t want them to be adversaries. If neither of them would surrender, what then?

“I hope this case hasn’t caused you trouble at home,” Magistrate Ueda said with concern.

“Nothing serious,” Sano lied. Social custom discouraged talk of personal problems, and he was uncomfortable discussing his even with Magistrate Ueda, a close friend. “It’s just that my wife has become convinced that Haru is innocent.”

“And you?” The magistrate’s sharp gaze indicated that he’d noticed how Sano avoided using Reiko’s name and guessed how bad things were between his daughter and son-in-law.

“There’s much evidence against Haru,” Sano hedged, and explained what he’d discovered. He didn’t want to admit that he thought Haru guilty of something, because he was afraid his decision was premature, born of his anger at Reiko and his need to prove he was right and she wrong.

Magistrate Ueda contemplated Sano with a grave expression, then said, “I will mediate between you and Reiko if you wish.”

“You needn’t trouble yourself, but thank you for your kind offer.” Sano was grateful, although shamed by the idea that he couldn’t handle his own marriage and his father-in-law must intercede to preserve the union of the two clans. “I’m sure my wife will see reason when the facts are known. Now Hirata and I would like to ask Haru for some of those facts.”

Magistrate Ueda rose. “I’ll take you to her.”

He led the way to the private quarters of the mansion. A guard loitered outside a room Sano recognized as Reiko’s girlhood chamber. Magistrate Ueda spoke through the open door: “Haru-san, you have visitors.”

Looking into the chamber, Sano saw Haru seated at a dressing table. She wore her hair in an elaborate knot studded with floral ornaments, and a jade green kimono printed with mauve asters. White makeup covered her face, and she’d painted her lips scarlet. She looked years older and startlingly pretty. Clothes, toiletries, and boxes of sweets lay on the floor around her. The scene enraged Sano. Four people, including her husband, had died in violence, and here Haru sat, primping amid things that Reiko must have given her.

Now Haru saw Sano and Hirata. She gasped.

“The sōsakan-sama wants a word with you,” Magistrate Ueda said, his tone kind although Sano could tell that his father-in-law shared his disapproval of Haru.

After the magistrate left, Sano crouched near Haru. “You seem to have recovered from your ordeal,” he said to her.

She must have sensed his animosity, because she folded her arms and hunched her shoulders. Her fear transformed her into a child again. The sudden change angered Sano because she was an adult, using childishness as a defense.

“Perhaps you’ve recovered your memory, too,” Sano said. “Tell me about the night of the fire.”

“I-I already told Reiko-san that I don’t remember,” Haru mumbled, looking around as if in search of Reiko.

Their friendship had gone too far, Sano thought as his anger flared toward both women. “My wife’s not here to pamper you. You’ll answer to me. What happened?”