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don’t usually socialize with Annapolis boys,” I said briskly. “But getting back to you, before the academy, you must have been at boarding school: Andover, Exeter, somewhere like that—”
    “Exeter.” He looked at me a bit more warily. “And I know about myself already, thank you very much. What else can you tell me about the ceramic?”
    “I think it was used in a home. A wealthy private home, where the people who owned it liked to encourage an illusion of a link to the ruling class.”
    “Well, that’s a good inference.”
    I turned to see that the speaker was Elizabeth Cameron herself.
    “Rei, I’m glad you came back. It sounds as if you have a pretty good base of knowledge already.”
    I shrugged off her compliment. “It just doesn’t seem plausible that traveling warriors would have carried breakable ceramics. If you think so, too, why does the label say what it does?”
    “Its history is all information this museum’s staff received from the Victoria and Albert.” She paused. “Well, now that you’re here, Rei, I was hoping you might like to look at some things that are usually in storage, that the staff’s brought out for our study. My colleague has gone to lunch, so we’ll be able to make ourselves comfortable there.”
    “All right,” I said. “I always welcome the chance for a behind-the-scenes tour at a museum.”
    “I’m glad to hear that,” Elizabeth said. “I reviewed your master’s thesis on Japanese ceramics. I think you’ll find this new arena of scholarship a natural fit.”
    “Rei, you’re turning out to be a jack-of-all-trades,” Michael said. “Kimono, pottery, furniture…”
    “Conversant in many things, but fluent in none,” I replied lightly.
    “Now, that is unbelievable.” Michael gave me one last speculative look with his icy blue eyes before saying good-bye.

7
    I was glad to have eaten the curry puffs with Senator Snowden, because it turned out that I never ate lunch. I spent the whole afternoon with Elizabeth Cameron, examining a table laden with dozens of fabulous ancient ceramics. As I pondered a 2,000-year-old urn, marveling at the history between my hands, I asked her whether it had been exhibited before.
    “Ten years ago,” she said. “We have so many holdings that it is a challenge to give everything a chance at the spotlight. And the truth is that the public prefers colorful items to earthenware.”
    “I haven’t seen anything like—what we saw on-screen yesterday,” I finished carefully.
    “The ibex ewer? Yes, that was a unique piece. This museum at least doesn’t have anything in the same form. I think the important thing happening today is that you’re getting used to the texture of these ceramics, the color of the clay—look at that distinct ashy whitish interior on the chip. It is very different from the red clay that’s more common.”
    “So this particular, lighter clay…it’s from a certain region?” I asked.
    “It’s from Babylon. Later on, pottery making took place in other areas, where the clay had a different mineral content.”
    “And where the aesthetic was more lavish,” I added longingly. These pieces really weren’t my taste at all.
    “Later pieces are usually more highly valued by collectors, though I myself tend to appreciate the simple beginnings.”
    So that was one of the differences between someone like myself who sold antiques to people who wanted stunning home decorations—and someone like her who wanted to keep them safely behind glass for all to see, free of charge. As I left the museum late that afternoon, I felt I had mastered some basics, but I needed to keep learning. If I was going to look at Takeo’s vessel with any confidence, I would have to examine many more examples from the period.
    I rode the Metro back to Dupont Circle, and as I walked toward Adams-Morgan, I dialed Michael Hendricks at his office.
    “You forgot your pen,” I said after he picked up.
    “Really? Hang on to it until I