“Precisely,” said Holmes. “I am suggesting that, were one to analyse the adjustments that were made, the replacement of the fish pond, for example, and the shift of the rock-garden, one might work backward to find the source of the perceived problem. That, to a knowledgeable eye, the re-channelling of the earth's energies that was done some years ago might point to a specific source.” He watched closely until he was satisfied that Long understood, then sat back to let Long think.

After a while, the bookseller shook his head. “I could look at the garden drawings and see if anything catches my eye, but I am a neophyte, and if my father did the thing correctly, the changes would be quite subtle. After all, there is little purpose in hiding a thing if you then place a large arrow over its location. He would have consulted a practitioner of the arts.”

“Did he know such a man?”

“He did. He used him to arrange the fittings in the bookstore, in fact. But the man was very old, and died years ago.”

“That is unfortunate,” Holmes said. “However, perhaps if we were to give those maps to another with that knowledge, might he be able to perceive the place that your father would have been . . . protecting?”

“It is possible. The classical principles of feng shui are laid down in history, and although each practitioner has his or her own style, the formulae should be the same. Would you like me to find out?”

“Very much.” As the alternative would be to reduce the entire garden to something resembling the trenches of northern France, any guidance, however idiosyncratic, could be of value.

“I know a man who can do what you need, if anyone can. Would you care to wait here while I go and see if he would consider taking the consultation?”

The phrasing and the way in which Long nervously adjusted his tie and cuffs indicated that the person he intended to ask was of an exalted rank, not at all the sort of person a casual Westerner could drop in on. Holmes told Long that he was happy to wait, and he settled in with his tea, tossing down countless tiny cups of the scalding beverage while the citizens of this town-within-a-town scurried back and forth across the window. He was impatient: The clock was ticking, and it was beginning to look less and less likely that he would get this thing settled before Russell returned.

When Long came back, he wore the face of unsuccess.

“He is out of town,” he reported. “A new restaurant in San Jose has a complicated set of problems. He is not expected to return until tomorrow. I asked to be notified as soon as he comes back, but if you prefer, I can find another practitioner.”

“Would the other be as good?”

“No,” Long said simply.