Chapter Eleven
“Okay, so you’re right. There’s no way that Byron is a professor of Chinese history,” said T’ai. “But how did you know he’d get tripped up on dynasties like that?”
“Just a hunch,” she said.
“A hunch? Come on.”
“He seemed distracted.”
“That’s true,” said T’ai.
“How long has Dr. Byron been taking you and Mac out for lunch?” Nicki asked.
“I don’t know, a month maybe.”
“You mentioned last night that Mac hasn’t been himself lately. How long has that been going on?”
T’ai thought for a second.
“I get your point. But why?”
“I’m not sure.” Nicki kept her duffel bag planted firmly on her lap during the subway ride. When it was time to exit near the ROM, she and T’ai waited for everyone else to push through the doors first and then made their way off the train.
A museum administrator gave them permission to speak with an expert in Chinese porcelain. They found Dr. Wong on the second floor putting together an exhibit of ceramic dishes from Northern China.
“Hello, sir,” said T’ai. “We were wondering if you could spare a few minutes.”
“Certainly.” He removed the gloves he’d been using to handle the pieces and invited the two of them to sit down at his workbench.
Nicki placed her bag in front of Dr. Wong.
“So, what do we have here?”
“A Ming vase,” said Nicki.
Dr. Wong looked over the top of his glasses at her.
“She’s not kidding, sir.” T’ai lifted out the vase and removed the wrap.
Dr. Wong said nothing. He turned the vase around several times, felt the thickness of the walls, and examined the bottom. He held it up to the light, then gently ran his finger along the rim.
“Excuse me a minute,” he said, while he went to get a magnifying glass.
T’ai looked at Nicki and raised his eyebrows.
She shrugged her shoulders.
When the expert returned, T’ai had questions.
“How old is this vase? Do you think it was made at the imperial factory at Ching-te-Chen?”
“It is true that the finest pieces came out of the factories of that great porcelain town,” agreed Dr. Wong, continuing his inspection with the magnifying glass. “Everything they needed was right there in the hills—the kaolin clay, the materials for glazes, the cobalt—everything.”
Nicki spoke up. “I researched these markings on the bottom, and I think they are a signature. My book said this is the six-character mark of Wan Li.”
Dr. Wong smiled and nodded.
Then she made a remark about the design on the vase, and Dr. Wong continued.
“Yes, the five-clawed dragon is wonderful, isn’t it?”
“Is this a valuable vase?” asked T’ai. “I read on the Internet that one like it sold at auction for almost seven million dollars.”
“I don’t doubt it,” said Dr. Wong. “You don’t often see an underglaze of this color.” He pointed to the deep red background. “Copper red was a very difficult shade to fire. The temperature had to be exactly right, or it would turn black. And in those days, they didn’t have electric kilns, of course.
“A piece like this,” he continued, “would have been created for the royal family—for the emperor.”
Nicki and T’ai exchanged quick glances.
“And would this piece have been passed from the Ming emperor to the emperor of the Qing/Manchu dynasty?” she asked. “In other words, would it have been in the royal household during the time of Manchu rule?”
“Possibly. And if it were, it would be worth far more than seven million dollars. In fact,” said Dr. Wong, “it would be priceless.”
“What do you mean it would be priceless?” asked Nicki.
“This vase would be one of a kind,” he said. Then he looked over the top of his glasses again. “If it were genuine.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, this one is not. I’m sorry.”
Nicki’s heart sank.
“Are you sure?” asked T’ai.
“Positive,” said Dr. Wong. “Oh, it’s a very good replica—in fact, I’d say it’s one of the best I’ve seen. Probably fired in 1920 or thereabouts, to serve as a duplicate of the one that belonged to the emperor.”
“Are there many of these duplicates around?” asked Nicki.
“Just a minute,” said Dr. Wong. He left the room and returned with a folio containing information about historic vases.
He leafed through quickly until he found what he was after.
“Yes, of course.” he said. “This red underglaze with the five-clawed dragon design did belong to the Chinese imperial family. It was stolen from them before the overthrow of the Qing dynasty.”
He pushed the folio across the table.
“Historians believe it may have ended up in Hawaii.”
“Hawaii?” said T’ai.
Nicki nudged his leg.
“Yes,” replied Dr. Wong. “Honolulu’s Chinatown played a crucial role in the birth of modern China. Sun Yat-sen, the revolutionary who put an end to the ruling monarchy, was born in Zhongshan but was educated in Hawaii.”
“I’ve, uh…I’ve heard that there’s a bronze statue of him in Honolulu,” said Nicki.
“But not everyone wanted to see the end of the Manchu regime, and there is speculation that the vase was offered to anyone who could do away with Dr. Sun.” Dr. Wong looked at the folio again. “You asked me about the number of duplicates that are in circulation.” He thought for a minute. “This might be the only one. Whoever made it would have needed the original to copy from.”
“How do you know this one is fake?” asked T’ai.
“When examining Chinese pottery and porcelain from this period,” he continued, “you always begin with a question.”
“What question?” asked Nicki.
“Where is the scratch on the Ming vase?” Dr. Wong smiled at his younger companions. “You see, the Chinese craftsmen were wonderful, the best in the world, and they took their work very seriously. And they knew that for a work of art to be truly beautiful, in the deepest sense, it had to contain a flaw. So, after the artist had created the most magnificent piece he could, he would add a tiny scratch, or a “wrong” spot of paint. Anything small just to make sure it was not perfect.”
“Because perfection is not beautiful,” said T’ai.
“Right,” said Dr. Wong. “Perfection is lifeless,” he added, as he left the room to replace the folio.
“Hawaii!” T’ai whispered to Nicki.
“I know, I know,” she replied. “It looks like David Kahana brought the vase all right— the real one—to return to your uncle and his family. But where is it now?”
“And where is he?”