Well, my new client's a mover, I told myself. All the same, I accepted his hand with a vague twinge of misgiving. What was it? Maybe something about him was a little too precise, too calculated.

Well, my new client's a mover, I told myself. All the same, I accepted his hand with a vague twinge of misgiving. What was it? Maybe something about him was a little too precise, too calculated.

"Mr. Walton, permit me to introduce my personal consultant." He laughed, a slight edge beneath the charm, and more wrinkles shot outward from the corners of his eyes. "I always seek her approval of major acquisitions, particularly those of the Heian period, her specialty." He turned with what seemed obvious pride and gestured toward the tall Japanese woman standing behind him. I'd been so busy sizing him up I'd completely failed to notice her. "I must confess she is, in fact, my . . . niece. I suppose that ages me." Another smile. "You may possibly be familiar with her professional name, so perhaps I should use that. May I introduce Akira Mori."

"Mr. Walton, permit me to introduce my personal consultant." He laughed, a slight edge beneath the charm, and more wrinkles shot outward from the corners of his eyes. "I always seek her approval of major acquisitions, particularly those of the Heian period, her specialty." He turned with what seemed obvious pride and gestured toward the tall Japanese woman standing behind him. I'd been so busy sizing him up I'd completely failed to notice her. "I must confess she is, in fact, my . . . niece. I suppose that ages me." Another smile. "You may possibly be familiar with her professional name, so perhaps I should use that. May I introduce Akira Mori."

Who? I stared a second before the face clicked into place. And the name. They both belonged to a well-known commentator on Tokyo television. Only one slight problem: her "specialty" had nothing to do with art.

Who? I stared a second before the face clicked into place. And the name. They both belonged to a well-known commentator on Tokyo television. Only one slight problem: her "specialty" had nothing to do with art.

"Hajimemashite. How do you do, Mr. Walton." She bowed formally and, I noticed, with all the warmth of an iceberg. No surprise—I knew her opinion of Americans. She did not bother meeting my eye.

"Hajimemashite. How do you do, Mr. Walton." She bowed formally and, I noticed, with all the warmth of an iceberg. No surprise—I knew her 

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