nting； and painting； in turn； leads to—God forbid—challenging Allah。

Everybody knows this。 Therefore； to judge by his lack of faith； Olive is a

genuine artist。 Nevertheless； I believe that his God…given gifts fall short of

Butterfly’s；　or　even　Stork’s。　I　would’ve　wanted　Olive　to　be　my　son。　As　I　said

this；　I　wanted　to　incur　Black’s　jealousy；　but　he　only　responded　by　opening　his

dark eyes and staring with childlike curiosity。 Then I said Olive was

magnificent when he worked in black ink； when he rendered； for pasting in

albums； warriors； hunting scenes； Chinese…inspired landscapes full of storks

and　cranes；　pretty　boys　gathered　beneath　a　tree　reciting　verse　and　playing　lutes；

and　when　he　depicted　the　sorrow　of　legendary　lovers；　the　wrath　of　a　sword…

bearing；　enraged　shah；　and　a　hero’s　expression　of　fear　as　he　dodged　the　attack

of　a　dragon。

“Perhaps Enishte wanted Olive to do the last picture that would show in

great detail； in the style of the Europeans； Our Sultan’s face and manner of

sitting；”　Black　said。

Was　he　trying　to　confuse　me？

“Supposing this were the case； after Olive killed Enishte； why would he

abscond　with　a　picture　he　was　already　familiar　with？”　I　said。　“Or；　if　you　like；

why　would　he　murder　Enishte　in　order　to　see　that　picture？”

We　both　pondered　these　questions　for　a　while。

“Because there’s something missing in that painting；” said Black。 “Or

because he regrets something he did and is scared by it。 Or even…” he

thought　for　a　while。　“Or；　having　killed　Enishte；　he　might’ve　taken