that an
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artist shouldn’t illustrate just any scene for money alone。 In place of weapons；
armies； slaves and conquests； we believe that the old myths； legends and
stories ought to be introduced anew into our books。 We shouldn’t forgo the
old models。 Genuine miniaturists shouldn’t loiter at the shops in the bazaar
and paint any old thing； depictions of indecency； for a few extra kurush from
anybody who happens by。 His Excellency Our Sultan would find us justified。”
“You’re incriminating yourself senselessly；” I said so he might be done with
his ranting。 “I’m convinced that the atelier could not harbor anybody capable
of mitting such a crime。 You’re all brethren。 There’s no great harm in
illustrating a few subjects that haven’t been depicted previously； at least no
harm so great as to be an occasion for enmity。”
As happened when I first heard the horrid news； I had an epiphany of sorts。
Elegant Effendi’s murderer was one of the premier masters in the palace
workshop and he was a member of the crowd before me； climbing the hill that
led to the cemetery。 I was also convinced that the murderer would continue
with his devilry and sedition； that he was an enemy of the book I was making；
and most probably； that he’d visited my house to pick up some work
illustrating and painting。 Had Butterfly； too； like most of the artists who
frequented my house； fallen in love with Shekure？ As he made his assertions；
had he forgotten the times when I’d requested that he paint pictures that were
contrary to his point of view； or was he just needling me with expert skill？