Kusanagi by Clem Chambers Page A

was letting Davas in as Jim walked into the hallway. ‘Max!’
    â€˜Jim!’
    Jim hugged him, rather to Davas’s surprise. ‘It’s great to see you.’
    â€˜It’s good to see you too.’
    â€˜You’ve come to see the box,’ said Stafford. It wasn’t a question, more a redundant observation.
    â€˜Yes,’ said Davas. ‘And Jim, of course.’
    Stafford cleared his throat. ‘Of course.’
    â€˜Come through,’ said Jim. ‘It’s amazing.’
    â€˜He knows that already,’ said Stafford.
    Davas glared at him, his lips puckered as though he was sucking a lemon.
    They went to the weathered old table on which the box lay.
    â€˜Did I do well?’ asked Jim, as Davas inspected it.
    Davas took a deep breath. He looked at Jim as if he was some kind of gifted idiot.
    â€˜What?’ said Jim.
    â€˜Have you got a cloth, Stafford?’
    â€˜Sir.’
    â€˜Could you bring it?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Will you bring it?’
    â€˜In a moment.’
    â€˜Thank you.’
    â€˜Is it a Kyoto puzzle box?’ asked Stafford.
    Davas looked at Stafford. ‘You know better than I do. Have you tried to open it?’
    Stafford didn’t reply.
    â€˜Have you?’ Davas pressed.
    Stafford stretched his neck a little. ‘It would have been hard to resist.’
    â€˜Indeed,’ agreed Davas.
    Jim was staring at the two old men with irritation. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
    â€˜A cloth, please, Stafford.’
    â€˜Certainly.’ The butler left the room.
    â€˜This isn’t a solid slab, Jim, it’s a Kyoto puzzle box.’
    â€˜A box?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜A box of what?’
    Davas gave a small smile that spread across his face. ‘We will see.’
    â€˜Did I make a good buy?’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Davas. ‘There are no known Kyoto puzzle boxes in private hands. There is one in the British Museum, of course, then two in the Japanese Imperial Collection. This is the only one of four known. However, whatever the value of the box, any contents will be worth ten times more – perhaps a thousand times.’
    â€˜What’s a puzzle box worth without anything in it?’
    â€˜Five million, perhaps ten million dollars.’
    Jim felt a wave of satisfaction flush through him. He had known the slab – the box – was a treasure just as he knew when stocks would move. Instinct had told the truth again. ‘Ten million empty. I wonder what’s inside.’
    â€˜We’ll see,’ said Stafford, returning with a hand towel and a tea towel over his arm.
    Davas took the tea towel and laid it over the lid. He placed a finger over the whale in the bay and pushed down hard with his thumb. ‘I don’t want to damage the box,’ he said.
    â€˜I tried that,’ said Stafford.
    Davas put his palm on the rising sun and pushed down again, then twisted. Nothing happened.
    â€˜I tried that too.’
    Davas picked up the box and examined the edges.
    â€˜I couldn’t see anything,’ said Stafford. He handed Davas a device. ‘I couldn’t see any joints with my eye, a magnifying glass or this.’
    Davas took the little pen-shaped device and pressed the button on its barrel. He ran it around the edges of the box. His face remained empty of discovery. He laid the slab flat and swept the red beam across the face. He looked at Stafford. ‘I take it you tried that too.’
    â€˜Indeed.’
    â€˜Let me have a go,’ said Jim.
    Davas held up his wrinkled hands. ‘Of course.’
    Jim put his left hand on the golden sun. He pressed on it.
    â€˜I tried that,’ said Davas.
    â€˜I know,’ said Jim, pressing firmly.
    Stafford looked on impassively. If he hadn’t found the catch to the Kyoto box, it simply wasn’t a puzzle box.
    Jim applied a little twist to his pressure. There was a hiss. The sun