Page 15 of Harmonic Pleasure (Mysterious Arts #6)

“ W ell, now, I thought this afternoon went rather well. And privately, I had several compliments about your work. I am not at all surprised, but it is pleasant to hear one’s own evaluation proved out.

” Master Philemon settled down in his hotel room, gesturing for Farran to take the other seat.

They’d just come from a tour round three of the four key auction houses in this project, and Master Philemon had declared it time for tea.

Tea in private, of course, which meant conversation to go with it. On the other hand, the tea looked delightful, a combination of tiny sandwiches and a tiered display of sweets. Farran nodded, taking one chair while Master Philemon poured out the tea. “Sir.”

“To be specific, because we do revel in the details, don’t we?

” Master Philemon was in a good mood, apparently.

“You were commended for your attention to those details. Also your ability to discern the line between when you should speak up and when you should defer. And particularly your ability to deal with several of the more difficult personalities with grace.” He set the cup down.

“Did Alastor Higgs really have three people in tears last week?”

“Three that I know of. Might well have been four or five,” Farran said. He’d had that sharp tongue turned on him. But his first failed apprenticeship with Master Tambleton had apparently given him the gift of enduring that with grace, despite everything else it had been.

Being scolded and torn to shreds for something that wasn’t actually his fault or his doing didn’t have the same effect anymore.

He hadn’t argued, of course. That was a way to make everything worse, and with people other than Mister Higgs besides.

But it meant Farran hadn’t needed to go hide in a hole or a box room or the very back corner of whatever storage room was furthest away.

“I gathered he didn’t get a rise out of you. An appropriate apology on that one piece about the vase.” Master Philemon chuckled agreeably. “That’s far better than most manage. Here, take your sandwiches first. You didn’t have the lunch out.”

Master Philemon had indeed had lunch out, a rather sumptuous one, at one of the clubs.

He’d been hosted by one of the heirs of the estate being auctioned off, and they’d come back from lunch a good forty-five minutes later than expected.

Forty-five minutes later than the buffer Master Philemon had planned, that was.

Farran shook his head. “I hope I am seen as open to correction on matters of fact or evaluation, sir. But simply being shouted at...” He shrugged, and then said what he’d been thinking of.

“After Master Tambleton, it’s harder to get a rise out of me.

” Then he reached out for one of the small plates and took two sandwich halves to start, one salmon paste, the other ham and mustard.

Master Philemon considered. “Well, I’m glad there was some benefit then.

Having the fortitude and the grace to deal with the difficult personalities will get you remarkably far in this line of work.

I know I’ve said that, but it continues to be true.

” He took his own sandwiches. “How do you think things are going?”

“There’s certainly plenty to keep me busy, and for weeks to come.” Farran considered. “I have some questions about specific pieces after talking through it today. That silver.”

“I’d noticed you were biting your tongue. Go on, then, or does it need your notes and sketches?” Master Philemon looked amused. “And I’d like to talk about the spoon, too.”

“I can talk through it, sir.” Farran took long enough to finish the salmon paste half, then cleared his throat. “I know the current analysis, and what we know of the provenance, suggests Dutch, sir. But it is possible it’s American, instead?”

“What makes you say that?” Master Philemon leaned forward slightly. “We agree it’s not actively magical, yes?”

“Yes, sir. Though there’s one aspect,” Farran caught himself before he digressed.

“The maker’s mark is badly faded. Or damaged.

” As if someone had tried to obscure it previously.

“But the feel in the hand is much closer to that piece from Lewis Feuter we had through Ormulu eighteen months ago.” He shrugged slightly.

“There’s an echo in the metal. It sounds in the head more like New Amsterdam than Amsterdam.

” Punning, of course, on the original name for New York City.

Philemon nodded. “I haven’t been able to decide, and we got precious little time with it today. I’ll see about asking if it can have some further scrutiny. Do you think it’s anything that would dramatically change the value? Other than, I agree, that having an accurate provenance is important.”

“I think it would depend on the buyer. And some of the American buyers might be interested, if there’s a tie there. They do have money to spend.” Farran pointed that out.

“And the other part?” Master Philemon gestured for Farran to eat, obviously about to go on. “Your touch on that is a great help. We can’t just tell them that the resonance of the materia suggests something else, of course, but it gives us an excuse to dig further into the records.”

Farran took advantage of that to have a bite of the ham and mustard sandwich before setting the plate down.

“The other part, sir, is that while it’s not inherently designed as a magical object, I’m fairly certain it’s been used in ritual magic previously.

There’s that tremolo.” That was the best way Farran had to describe it.

Master Philemon had been clear that each person had their own preferences in such things.

Farran heard it, an echo of it, a sound so faint that any background noise could disrupt it, and yet it was always there for any object of note.

Master Philemon got waves of colour, a synaesthesia effect.

Master Philemon tilted his head, considering. “I could see that. I’d need to handle it more. I can do that tomorrow. Not recently, though? The ritual, I mean.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t have enough points of comparison, though.

” That was the trouble. It was a nebulous feeling to start with, and the strength of it changed over time, depending on the material, the circumstances of the making, the history of the piece.

“Maybe fifty years ago? Maybe a century.”

“Which also raises the question of the actual provenance.” The piece had supposedly come into the collection seventy years ago, via a dealer whose name had been lost. “I’ll have a look at some of the records. The spoon? Or did you have something to ask first?”

“I did, sir, but not about my current assigned work. I don’t know when you’d rather talk about it.” Farran hesitated for a moment. “A private commission.”

“Go on.” Master Philemon moved to take a couple of the petits fours.

“It’s a continuation of what I’d already mentioned, that matter with Vega Beaumont.

I gathered some background on her, but there’s not much before she began performing.

She didn’t attend Schola, or any of the other Five Schools, but of course most people don’t.

She has been building up her career, and she’s well respected, it seems like.

But she’d been singing on the continent most of the last couple of years. ”

“And you said she had a family request to find an object that might recently have been moved or come awake?”

“Exactly. I’ve a bit more in the way of specifics, but precious few details.

And then I started wondering if I should continue.

We talked yesterday, but when she left, she was frustrated.

And there’s someone else, a man, who turned up, and she can’t tell if he’s focusing on her for this reason or for the others. ”

“His name?” Master Philemon pulled out his small notebook.

“Thomas Vandermeer. American, she thinks, he gave her a card for the Hotel Cecil.” Farran shrugged. “I haven’t asked Vivian about him yet. I wasn’t sure it made sense.”

“She might also have ideas. What did she tell you about Mistress Beaumont?”

“Magistra Beaumont, I’m fairly sure. Even if that’s not documented, either.” Farran shrugged once. “Hearing her sing, it’s quite obvious.” He couldn’t quite repress a small sound.

“What do you think of her as a person? You’re getting quite deft at reading people, you know that. Your evaluation, please?”

“I like her. She’s like something that’s been touched and worn down a little, the touches of affection.

A statue, a bit of bronze, worn smooth and shinier.

Does that make sense? Or something where the handle’s shaped to fit the hand comfortably, that level of attention to detail.

” Farran said it before he thought through the implications of saying it.

But this was Master Philemon, and they’d long since established the habit of direct speech and honesty with this sort of evaluation.

“You like her. As a person.” There, that was just naming it.

“Yes, sir.” Farran wouldn’t deny it. “And I don’t think she has a lot of people to talk to about it, besides her family. I pushed her a little, about whether it was a matter for the Guard or the Penelopes or something of the kind. That’s when she got frustrated and left.”

“Huh.” Master Philemon leaned back, taking a minute to think through it. “All right. You have a point. And honestly, the Penelopes might have a lot of fun with the problem, the useful sort of fun. But you do not yet have an obligation to turn it over. What did you tell her?”

“Before that, I said I’d check with you about the legal aspects. I know the basics, but I’ve largely dealt with things where we know when they came from and who is supposed to have ownership. Or where the question is obvious if we don’t.”

“Like our silver.” Master Philemon nodded. “British law distinguishes between a treasure trove and other items, like a burial. Or an item that was dropped but not buried.”

“What’s the difference, sir?” Farran leaned forward, finally reaching for a pastry.

“Common law holds several factors. First, gold or silver in any form, it could be coin, plate, bullion, jewellery. Second, that it had been hidden deliberately and rediscovered. Third, that no person could prove they owned it. Fourth, the trove itself has to be more than half silver or gold. Less, and it’s a different law in play. ”

Farran let out a small cough of a noise. “So a piece dropped, not buried, that’s not a treasure. Or, I suppose, left in some underground room and not retrieved?”

“Exactly. Now, as it’s magical, Albion’s Ministry would certainly like to know about it. And for certain classes of item, there are requirements about that. But I don’t think you know enough to be sure of that here? Did she share anything more than you told me about what it does?”

“Amplify. Or something of the kind. But how can you tell with an object from that long ago? Even if her family has more notes, hasn’t the, I don’t know, shape of magic changed rather a lot since then? As much or more than the vowel sounds have?”

It made Master Philemon laugh. “Well, yes. Yes and no. There have been many changes, and I can recommend a history for you, Roman and Anglo-Saxon artefacts, including some talismans and ritual pieces. If you wanted to do a bit of study on it, that would be a nice additional speciality for you to pick up. We’re seeing more treasure hoards turning up here and there as the metal detection is refined, and you’ve already got the expertise in classical art pieces. ”

Farran nodded. “I’ll think about it, sir. But you think I should continue?”

“I think it comes down to whether you wish to continue. You think she is an interesting person. You do not perceive a sense of harm or discord. You have some relevant skills. Then there’s the question of this Vandermeer.

I’d take sensible precautions, of course, but if you want to continue, I see no reason to stop now.

With a conversation about what point bringing in the Guard might be necessary, so you are both clear about where that line is.

You’re hardly the sort to go putting yourself in danger for the sake of adventure. ”

Farran blinked, then snorted. “No, sir. Not my likely failing.” He took a breath.

“I’ll see about talking with her more. You had questions about the spoon?

” The spoon was both interesting and relevant.

It was a bit of deft silver work with elaborate enamel on the back of the bowl.

Master Philemon set into explaining the particular query he had, which was about whether there’d been a repair and how they might go about proving it one way or the other without risking damage to the item.