The Piano Tuner Read Online Free PDF Page B

beneath the ceiling. Discarded keys lined the shelves
like rows of dentures. Katherine had once called it “the elephants’
graveyard,” and he had to ask if this was for the hulking rib cages of
eviscerated grands or for the rolls of felt like hide, and she had answered,
You are too poetic, I meant only for the ivory.
    Coming down the stairs,
he almost tripped over a discarded action that was leaning against the wall.
Beyond the difficulty of moving a piano, this was another reason he
didn’t bring customers to his shop. For those accustomed to the shine of
polished cases set in flowered parlors, it was always somewhat disconcerting to
see an opened piano, to realize that something so mechanical could produce such
a heavenly sound.
    Edgar made his way to a small desk and lit a lamp.
The night before, he had hidden the packet given to him at the War Office
beneath a musty stack of printed tuning specifications. He opened the envelope.
There was a copy of the original letter sent by Fitzgerald, and a map, and a
contract specifying his commission. There was also a printed briefing, given to
him on the request of Doctor Carroll, titled in bold capitals, THE
GENERAL HISTORY OF BURMA , WITH SPECIAL ATTENTION TO THE
ANGLO - BURMESE WARS AND BRITISH ANNEXATIONS . He sat down
and began to read.
    The history was familiar. He had known of the
Anglo-Burmese wars, conflicts notable both for their brevity and for the
considerable territorial gains wrested from the Burmese kings following each
victory: the coastal states of Arakan and Tenasserim following the first war,
Rangoon and Lower Burma following the second, Upper Burma and the Shan States
following the third. And while the first two wars, which ended in 1826 and
1853, he had learned about at school, the third had been reported in the
newspapers last year, as the final annexation was announced only in January.
But beyond the general histories, most of the details were unfamiliar: that the
second war began ostensibly over the kidnapping of two British sea captains,
that the third stemmed in part from tensions following the refusal of British
emissaries to remove their shoes on entering an audience with the Burmese king.
There were other sections, including histories of the kings, a dizzying
genealogy complicated by multiple wives and what appeared to be a rather common
practice of murdering any relatives who might be pretenders to the throne. He
was confused by new words, names with strange syllables he couldn’t
pronounce, and he focused his attention mainly on the history of the most
recent king, named Thibaw, who had been deposed and exiled to India after
British troops seized Mandalay. He was, by the army’s account, a weak and
ineffective leader, manipulated by his wife and mother-in-law, and his reign
was marred by increasing lawlessness in the remoter districts, evidenced by a
plague of attacks by armed bands of
dacoits,
a word for brigands that
Edgar recognized from the article he had torn from the
Illustrated London
News.
    Above, he heard Katherine’s footsteps, and paused,
ready to slip the papers back into their envelope. The steps stopped at the top
of the stairs.
    “Edgar, it’s nearly ten,” she
called.
    “Really! I must go!” He blew out the lamp and
stuffed the papers back into the envelope, surprised at his own precaution. At
the top of the stairs, Katherine met him with his coat and his toolbag.
    “I will be on time tonight, I promise,” he said, slipping his
arms into the sleeves. He kissed her on her cheek and stepped out into the
cold.
     
    He spent the remainder of the morning tuning the
Broadwood grand of the member of Parliament, who thundered in the next room
about the building of a new Hospital for the Genteel Insane. He finished early,
he could have spent more time fine-tuning, but he had a feeling that it was
rarely played. Besides, the acoustics in the drawing room were poor, and the
politics of the MP distasteful.
    It was early afternoon