Read Online The Hell Screen by I. J. Parker - Free Book Online
Authors: I. J. Parker
Tags: Fiction, Historical fiction, General, Historical, Mystery & Detective, Mystery Fiction, Japan, Government investigators, Nobility, Kyoto (Japan), Japan - History - Heian period; 794-1185
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lute as long as it is rare... it is a gift for someone highly placed, you see... very highly placed.”
To his relief, Mr. Nichira smiled. “I quite understand. It is not always easy to find just the right thing for a connoisseur, is it?”
Akitada raised his shoulders helplessly. “No. I thought... But perhaps you might know better what...” He let his voice trail off.
“Quite. Might I ask your honored name?”
“Sugawara.”
The name rang no bell for Nichira. Akitada was more relieved than hurt. The dealer said, “Ah, yes. If your honor is not particular about its being a lute, I may have some other very special objects to show you.”
Akitada murmured something about putting himself entirely into Mr. Nichira’s hands, and was led into a private room behind the showroom. Here the dealer begged him to be seated on a fine silk cushion, poured a very strong, fruity wine from a translucent porcelain flagon into a jade green cup of Chinese origin, and then produced several silk-covered packages, which he began to unwrap. None of the lovely things were the missing treasures, but Akitada managed to chatter about antique seals, lacquer boxes of great antiquity, and statues of fairies—not because he expected Nichira to produce them, but in hopes that the dealer might have heard about such things from his colleagues or suppliers. No such luck. But the thought of suppliers prompted another question.
Picking a lovely old flute from among the items on the table, Akitada said, “How did you come by this? It is quite unusual.”
“It is part of the estate of Lord Mibu Kanemori. The widow was in straitened circumstances and sent for me. She says it’s been in the family for more than two hundred years.”
Akitada turned the flute this way and that, studying the workmanship closely. “The arrangement of the finger holes is unique. Does it have a good sound?”
Nichira looked impressed. “Does your honor play?”
“A little,” Akitada said modestly. He tried to place his fingers over the holes, itching to try out the sound produced by such an instrument. He once had a wonderful old flute himself, a present from a young noble friend, and he flattered himself on his skill playing it.
“Please allow me to hear you perform,” begged Nichira. “I have no skill myself.”
Polite fellow, thought Akitada, pleased, and put the mouthpiece to his lips. The sound which emerged when he blew was quite lovely, high and clear rather than mellow like his own flute. He attempted a more complicated piece of music, struggling a little with the unfamiliar finger holes.
Nichira listened with rapt enjoyment. Akitada was impressed with the dealer’s appreciation of music and said so when he finished. Nichira burst into highly flattering comments. After that they were entirely in charity with each other. Akitada bought the flute, trying not to wince at the price, and had no trouble getting Nichira to part with some useful information.
The other antiquarians likely to have very old and precious goods were called Heida, Kudara, and Nagaoka. Nichira helpfully supplied their addresses. Nagaoka was semiretired, handling a few transactions out of his family residence. All respectable dealers investigated the provenance of any articles brought to them.
“It is necessary to tell the buyer,” explained Nichira. “You asked about the flute. Knowing the previous owners adds to the value of the item.”
Akitada parted contentedly from Nichira, promising to return on another occasion.
He found a silk shop in the next street. This store was open to the street, its shutters raised to allow passersby a view of the large interior, where apprentices bustled about carrying rolls of silk to seated customers. Akitada entered, and a senior saleswoman introduced him to the treasures of the shop. Akitada, who was used to the meager offerings in the northern province, felt his
To his relief, Mr. Nichira smiled. “I quite understand. It is not always easy to find just the right thing for a connoisseur, is it?”
Akitada raised his shoulders helplessly. “No. I thought... But perhaps you might know better what...” He let his voice trail off.
“Quite. Might I ask your honored name?”
“Sugawara.”
The name rang no bell for Nichira. Akitada was more relieved than hurt. The dealer said, “Ah, yes. If your honor is not particular about its being a lute, I may have some other very special objects to show you.”
Akitada murmured something about putting himself entirely into Mr. Nichira’s hands, and was led into a private room behind the showroom. Here the dealer begged him to be seated on a fine silk cushion, poured a very strong, fruity wine from a translucent porcelain flagon into a jade green cup of Chinese origin, and then produced several silk-covered packages, which he began to unwrap. None of the lovely things were the missing treasures, but Akitada managed to chatter about antique seals, lacquer boxes of great antiquity, and statues of fairies—not because he expected Nichira to produce them, but in hopes that the dealer might have heard about such things from his colleagues or suppliers. No such luck. But the thought of suppliers prompted another question.
Picking a lovely old flute from among the items on the table, Akitada said, “How did you come by this? It is quite unusual.”
“It is part of the estate of Lord Mibu Kanemori. The widow was in straitened circumstances and sent for me. She says it’s been in the family for more than two hundred years.”
Akitada turned the flute this way and that, studying the workmanship closely. “The arrangement of the finger holes is unique. Does it have a good sound?”
Nichira looked impressed. “Does your honor play?”
“A little,” Akitada said modestly. He tried to place his fingers over the holes, itching to try out the sound produced by such an instrument. He once had a wonderful old flute himself, a present from a young noble friend, and he flattered himself on his skill playing it.
“Please allow me to hear you perform,” begged Nichira. “I have no skill myself.”
Polite fellow, thought Akitada, pleased, and put the mouthpiece to his lips. The sound which emerged when he blew was quite lovely, high and clear rather than mellow like his own flute. He attempted a more complicated piece of music, struggling a little with the unfamiliar finger holes.
Nichira listened with rapt enjoyment. Akitada was impressed with the dealer’s appreciation of music and said so when he finished. Nichira burst into highly flattering comments. After that they were entirely in charity with each other. Akitada bought the flute, trying not to wince at the price, and had no trouble getting Nichira to part with some useful information.
The other antiquarians likely to have very old and precious goods were called Heida, Kudara, and Nagaoka. Nichira helpfully supplied their addresses. Nagaoka was semiretired, handling a few transactions out of his family residence. All respectable dealers investigated the provenance of any articles brought to them.
“It is necessary to tell the buyer,” explained Nichira. “You asked about the flute. Knowing the previous owners adds to the value of the item.”
Akitada parted contentedly from Nichira, promising to return on another occasion.
He found a silk shop in the next street. This store was open to the street, its shutters raised to allow passersby a view of the large interior, where apprentices bustled about carrying rolls of silk to seated customers. Akitada entered, and a senior saleswoman introduced him to the treasures of the shop. Akitada, who was used to the meager offerings in the northern province, felt his
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