Sycamores spread mottled branches over the main path; leafy arbors shadowed smaller paths. Pines, oaks, red maples, and cherry trees obscured buildings; lush grass and shrubbery grew between white gravel walks. Deep shadows cooled the air. The high walls and dense foliage shut out the traffic noises. Priests in saffron robes, nuns in gray, and novices in brown flitted silently, eyes downcast, through crowds of sedate worshippers. From somewhere within the compound rose the eerie rhythm of chanting. Strong incense that smelled like cloying orange blossoms permeated the air. The place had a strange, ethereal beauty that sent a shiver along Reiko’s nerves.
“Greetings, Honorable Lady Sano.”
Startled by the sound of a husky female voice, Reiko turned and faced a tall woman dressed in a pale gray kimono.
“Welcome to the Black Lotus Temple,” said the woman, bowing. A long white drape covered her head. In her late thirties, she had square jaws and a full, sensuous mouth. Her narrow eyes glittered with hard intelligence. She wore no face powder, but her eyebrows were shaved and redrawn high on her forehead, and a thin film of rouge colored her lips. Age had etched faint lines around her mouth and brown spots marred her cheeks, but she must have been lovely in her youth and still possessed a haggard beauty. Four nuns flanked her, two on each side. “I’m Junketsu-in, the abbess of the convent. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance.”
Reiko felt a stab of surprise as she bowed in automatic courtesy and murmured politely, “The honor is mine.” She’d never seen an abbess wearing makeup, and although holy women usually shaved their heads, she saw hair pulled back from the brow under the abbess’s headdress.
Also disconcerted by the prompt official reception accorded her unannounced visit, she asked, “How do you know who I am?”
“Oh, you’re too modest.” Abbess Junketsu-in smiled. Her voice had an arch, affected quality. “Everyone knows the wife of the shogun’s sōsakan-sama.”
While Reiko realized that her work with Sano had caused some gossip around town, she was not exactly a public figure. Had someone eavesdropped on her conversation with Haru, then alerted the Black Lotus to expect her? Reiko didn’t like the abbess’s bold, appraising gaze, and instinct told her that Junketsu-in’s appearance and behavior were signs of something wrong in the temple. Or was she being overly suspicious because it might harbor a killer?
“I suppose you’re helping your husband investigate the fire,” Junketsu-in said, adding weight to Reiko’s suspicions. Since her participation in the case wasn’t public knowledge, and women did visit temples for religious reasons, why should Junketsu-in make this assumption unless she knew about the interview with Haru? “Please let me assist you.”
“I’m here to investigate Haru’s possible role in the arson and murder,” Reiko conceded.
Junketsu-in’s smile widened. Sharp teeth, angled inward, gave her mouth the look of a trap. “I know Haru very well. We can talk in my chambers.” The abbess gestured down a narrow lane.
“Actually, I was hoping to meet Haru’s friends.” Reiko guessed that the temple might wish to keep the investigation focused on Haru, either to protect the person responsible for the fire or to prevent scrutiny of the sect’s business. She couldn’t trust the word of any official who might sacrifice an orphan as an easy scapegoat. “If you’ll just direct me to the orphanage, I needn’t inconvenience you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Junketsu-in said, still smiling, although her gaze hardened. “I’ll be happy to give you whatever information you need.”
She and the nuns surrounded Reiko. It was obvious that they didn’t want her roaming the temple on her own. Briefly, Reiko considered invoking Sano’s authority and commanding Junketsu-in to let her do as she wished. Yet she felt uncomfortable about pretending to act on Sano’s behalf when he didn’t even know she was here. Across the precinct, she saw two of his detectives passing by, but enlisting their aid would put them in the dubious position of having to decide whether helping her constituted disobedience to their master. Also, Reiko knew that antagonizing a sect official could cause trouble for Sano.
“Very well,” Reiko said, letting Junketsu-in escort her down the path. Perhaps she could still learn something of importance.
The path led under the arbors, between tree-shaded buildings past which Junketsu-in hurried Reiko as if not wanting her to get a good look at them or speak to the nuns passing by. “This is the nunnery,” Junketsu-in said, ushering Reiko into a smaller version of the convent at Zōjō Temple.
They sat in a plainly furnished chamber upstairs. Sliding doors stood open to a balcony that overlooked the thatched roofs of more buildings. A maid served tea. The nuns knelt like mute sentries in the corners. Now Reiko noticed that the abbess’s gray kimono was made of fine cotton with a subtle pattern of wavy, lighter gray lines instead of plain hemp like the nuns’ robes; she wore spotless white socks in contrast to their bare feet.
“What are the practices of the Black Lotus sect?” Reiko asked, curious to know what rituals had attracted such a large following, and what doctrine allowed the abbess to violate the Buddhist practice of spurning worldly vanity.
“Human existence is full of suffering,” Junketsu-in said in a lofty, pious tone. “This suffering is caused by selfish desire. By ridding ourselves of desire, we can gain release from suffering and reach nirvana. We can only do this by following the right path.”
Reiko recognized these axioms as the Four Noble Truths, the foundation for all forms of Buddhism.
“We believe that every human has the potential to reach nirvana and achieve Buddhahood-the state of supreme enlightenment and supernatural power. Memorizing and chanting the Black Lotus Sutra and meditating on it makes us one with the truth contained therein. The act of chanting harnesses all our life’s activities to the purpose of releasing the power that lies within the realm of the unconscious, where we can grasp the ultimate meaning of the sutra. Understanding occurs in a mystical fusion between worshipper and sutra, and thus we shall attain nirvana and Buddhahood.”
“I’m not familiar with the Black Lotus Sutra,” Reiko said. “Is it related to the famous Lotus Sutra?” That scripture was the basis for other sects. “What does it say?”
“The Black Lotus Sutra is a unique, ancient verse that was discovered by our high priest. It states that the correct path to Buddhahood consists of infinite parallel, intersecting, converging, and diverging paths that unite as one, and that High Priest Anraku, the Bodhisattva of Infinite Power, will show us each the path that we must follow.” The abbess stirred restlessly. “But it is long, complex, and requires much time to recite and extensive study to comprehend. And I believe you wish to know about Haru and the fire?”
“Yes,” Reiko said.
She noted the abbess’s desire to turn the conversation away from the sect, which seemed an amalgam of established religion and new philosophy. The Pure Land sect, governed by Zōjō Temple, revered the Pure Land Sutra and believed that constantly invoking the name of Amida, the Buddha of Unlimited Light, helped humans achieve salvation. Zen sects, preferred by many samurai, practiced meditation with the goal of satori, a sudden perception of felt knowledge. The Black Lotus most resembled the Nichiren Shōshu sect, founded some four hundred years ago by a dynamic spiritual leader and still popular with commoners, which chanted the Lotus Sutra to achieve enlightenment. Reiko had read that scripture and knew it did not actually reveal the secret truth, which was indescribable, but that worshippers needn’t understand the words to benefit from chanting them. Presumably, this was also the case with the Black Lotus Sutra. None of the Black Lotus practices sounded extraordinary, and Reiko wondered why Junketsu-in didn’t want to talk about them.