“Our rituals require me to have so many women that I can’t recall each one,” Profound Wisdom said with a patronizing smile. “Sexual energy fosters spiritual enlightenment.”

A clever excuse for orgies, Sano thought in disgust. “Did Mariko come here seven days ago?” he said.

“If so, I don’t recall,” Profound Wisdom said smugly.

As ire enflamed Sano, he squatted before the priest. He stared through the deep eyes, into a reservoir of madness. “Either you start telling the truth about Mariko, or-”

“Or you’ll kill me?” Profound Wisdom sneered. “I’ll be executed no matter what I do. So I choose not to talk. There’s nothing you can threaten me with that will keep me from taking my secrets to the grave.”

Sano said, “I can hold you in jail while I spread word that you named your leaders and told the bakufu where to find them. They’ll send their assassins after you. You’ll be condemned as a traitor to the Black Lotus and never achieve spiritual enlightenment.”

The mockery in Profound Wisdom’s eyes ignited into alarm. “No!” he bellowed.

“Yes,” Sano said, gratified by the priest’s reaction. He’d learned from past experience that the worst thing one could do to a Black Lotus member was turn the wrath of the sect on him. The Black Lotus could infiltrate any place and dispense death in painful ways that put the Edo Jail torturers to shame. And zealots like Profound Wisdom believed that the sect had the power to deny them the glory of enlightenment and doom them to burn in a hellish netherworld for all eternity.

Profound Wisdom lunged toward the door. The detectives caught him and shoved him down on his knees. Sano stood over him. “Did Mariko come here seven days ago?” Sano repeated.

Fists clenched, the priest huffed at Sano as though ready to explode from hatred. Then the breath seeped out of him; defeat slackened his face and posture. “She did,” he muttered.

“Why?” Sano said.

“To report on the shogun’s mother. She said Lady Keisho-in was planning to travel the next day.”

Vindication elated Sano: His theory had proved correct. “So Mariko got permission to leave Edo Castle that night because she wanted to see you,” he said. “She was your spy.”

And Profound Wisdom appeared a likely suspect in the kidnapping. A leader in a sect persecuted by Police Commissioner Hoshina, the priest boasted many followers willing to kill for revenge. The bizarre poem about the Dragon King seemed a product of his insanity.

But Profound Wisdom shook his head. “Not my spy.”

“Then why did she report to you?” Sano asked as his elation turned to confusion.

“The news Mariko brought was for someone else.”

“For whom?” Sano said, increasingly baffled.

“A man. He worships at my temple,” Profound Wisdom said. “Mariko came here to see him. He wasn’t here. She left the message in case he should come, then went to look for him.”

Now it appeared, to Sano’s disappointment, that Profound Wisdom was neither the Dragon King nor the final stage in the search for Reiko. “Who is this man?” Sano said.

“I don’t know,” the priest said sullenly.

Sano gripped his stole. “Tell me, or the word goes out right now that you betrayed the Black Lotus.”

Although Profound Wisdom recoiled in terror, he cried, “I speak the truth! I don’t know his name.”

Sano flung Profound Wisdom down; he folded his arms and waited. Eager to placate Sano, the priest explained, “He joined the Black Lotus about three years ago. One day this past winter, he said he needed a quiet, obedient girl to work for him. I introduced him to Mariko. He got her a position as a maid to the shogun’s mother. She was supposed to find out whenever Lady Keisho-in was leaving the castle, where she was going, and what route she would be taking. Mariko would either tell me or send me a message, and I would relay the news to the man when he came to the temple.”

Now Sano speculated that this unknown man was the Dragon King. He must have been looking for the right opportunity to abduct Lady Keisho-in. But Sano wondered how he’d gotten Mariko a position in Edo Castle. And Profound Wisdom’s tale struck a note of disbelief in Sano.

“Since when do you, a high Black Lotus priest, do favors for a follower whose identity you don’t even know?” Sano said.

“Since he became a patron of the Black Lotus,” said Profound Wisdom. “He gave me large donations. He paid me for Mariko, and for taking her messages for him. I did other things for him, too.”

Money bought service even from Black Lotus priests who usually tyrannized their followers, Sano noted. It also helped the sect survive in a hostile climate. Sano deduced that Mariko had met the man that night, and he’d paid her in gold coins, which she’d hidden in her room until she could give them to her priest.

“Later on the night that Mariko brought her message,” Profound Wisdom said, “the man came here. He wanted some good fighters. I asked why, but he just counted money into my hand. I gathered eighty-five rōnin and some peasant toughs and sent them to Shinagawa to meet him the next day.”

A thrill of revelation sped through Sano’s veins. Shinagawa was the Tōkaidō post station nearest Edo. The man, whom Sano now believed was the Dragon King, had borrowed an army to pursue Lady Keisho-in’s party, massacre her attendants, and kidnap the women. His initial hunch had been half right: The Black Lotus was involved in the crimes, though not chiefly responsible for them. The merchant Naraya had spoken a partial truth when he’d blamed the kidnapping on the Black Lotus. But Sano’s thrill immediately turned to horror.

Black Lotus samurai were a vicious scourge that killed at the slightest provocation. Now Sano’s earlier fears gained substance. The Black Lotus had Reiko. Although her role in High Priest Anraku’s downfall had been hushed up, the secret could have leaked. If the Black Lotus kidnappers knew what she’d done, Reiko was doomed no matter what plans the Dragon King had for her.

“How can you not know who the man is?” Sano said as his terror boosted his ill will toward Profound Wisdom. “I thought you Black Lotus priests were supposed to be all-seeing, all-knowing. What happened? Did your spies let you down?”

Crestfallen, Profound Wisdom twisted his mouth. “I had them follow the man every time he left the temple. Every time, they lost him. He was good at sneaking away.”

“Describe what he looks like,” Sano said, avid in pursuit of the Dragon King, who seemed almost close enough to touch yet still eluded him.

The priest scrutinized Sano, using him as a standard of comparison. “He’s younger and heavier than you. His eyes are rounder, his lips puckered.”

That description fit thousands of men. Sano’s hopes waned. “Is he a samurai or commoner?”

“I don’t know. He always wears a hood under his hat.” The hood had concealed whether the Dragon King had the shaved crown and topknot of the warrior elite. “But he didn’t wear swords.”

Then he could be a peasant, artisan, or merchant-or a samurai disguising his class. “Was there anything notable about his voice or manner?” Sano asked.

“His voice was deeper and quieter than yours. He moved as if… ” The priest searched for the right words. “As if he was afraid but wanted everyone to think he was brave.”

This detail might help identify the man-if Sano could find him first. “Did he say or do anything that gave you any information about him?”

Profound Wisdom meditated, the blackness of his eyes deepening with recollection. “He paid me to conduct a ritual for him. He wanted to communicate with someone who had died.”

Certain Black Lotus priests claimed the ability to speak to the dead and receive messages from them, Sano knew. “Who was it?” His instincts vibrated alert as he sensed the advent of a clue.

“A woman. He said her name was Anemone.”

“What happened?”