The Story of Samo: Chapter Four, Part Three
Five hours after Tarat entered the back room of Tansu’s bookshop, he was still there, reading and studying. Three hours in, Tansu had set up a small table for him and began bringing him tea, much to Tarat’s gratitude. Since then, Tarat had drunk tea nearly nonstop for two hours and needed a break to relieve himself. Coming back, he was dismayed to find Giesa, the detective he had met the day before, standing over the books with his hands behind his back. Giesa looked up at him and smiled. He said, “Interesting reading you have here, officer. I’d like to know what you’re doing with it, rather than burning it according to the law.”
Tarat stepped forward and said, “I can explain, detective.” He approached the books and picked up the one he had open on the table, a manual by Dacule, and said, “These, uh, were to find what the evidence would look like, so I didn’t accidentally burn a book not under the ban.”
“Good try,” Giesa answered. “But I don’t believe you. When you tell a lie, try to know what you’re going to say before you do. Sorry, but Samo is much smarter than you.”
“You know him?”
Giesa grinned slyly and said, “I know of him. I have met him a few times, not that he’d remember. It was mostly to meet with Gianan.”
Tarat set the book down and said, “I’m confused, why aren’t you arresting me?”
“Do you want me to arrest you?” Giesa took a pair of manacles off his belt and held them out. “I wasn’t planning to, but if you insist. I’d suggest against it.”
Waving his hand, Tarat said, “Um, no. Are you one of the Inventors?”
“Hah! No.” Giesa shook his head and leaned against a stack of books that butted against the wall. “I don’t have the scientific head. Gianan was the one for that.”
“He was your brother, wasn’t he?”
Giesa sat in the chair that Tarat had previously occupied and said, “Perhaps I was wrong about your intelligence. He is my brother. You may just be a good detective someday.”
“Well, Samo is much smarter than me, so it’s not that I took it as an insult. He’s much smarter than everyone.” Tarat carried a nearby stool to the table and set it down. Sitting, he watched Giesa look around the room. It was apparent that he was no illiterate. The way he looked around at the books, one could tell that he was comfortable enough around them to barely notice them and to be fascinated by them at the same time. It was not the books he loved, but the information inside. Then, Giesa took a small book, brought it to his nose and sniffed. Tarat’s mouth fell agape as Giesa then inhaled deeply through the nose and smiled contentedly. He said, “What are you doing?”
“Hm?” Giesa looked at him and chuckled. He said, “Have you ever smelled a book? I know you’ve smelled one, but have you ever purposely smelled a book? To get the scent of the musty paper, or the new paper for that matter. You could even tell the approximate age of a book by the smell, if you know enough about it. The mustier the smell, the older the book. Of course, variable use of the book can have an effect. The more it’s used, the sooner the pages break down.”
Tarat shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He pulled the Dacule manual closer to him and bent over it nervously. Was this man insane? He said, “Maybe Samo should have been your apprentice rather than Gianan’s. You’re as crazy as he is.”
Giesa gave a belly laugh and said, “Heaven help us. If Samo were to learn from me, that would be-” He paused. Looking down contemplatively, he thought for a moment. Then, looking at Tarat with a look of stern determination, he said, “Do you know why I’m not arresting you?”
Because you’re Gianan’s brother? Tarat did not say that, but instead said, “I don’t know.”
“Because it’s a foolish law written by foolish men and enforced by fools.” He took the manual from Tarat and said, “I’m not a scientist, but this is amazing work. Sarenti was an amazing man. He was, before he died.”
Tarat leaned against the table and said, “Did you know him?”
Giesa shrugged. “Well, he was always a very secretive man.”
“You should have laughed and told me he died decades before you were born.” Tarat smiled as Giesa looked up with a face full of shock and anxiety. He took the book back and began leafing through the pages. Casting a furtive glance at Giesa, he bent over and sniffed the book. It smelled very musty, an odor that Tarat had never enjoyed much, but then again, he was not used to the smell of a book, even when he was reading them. He sniffed again, understanding why someone would enjoy it. Looking up at Giesa, he saw amusement and anxiety fighting for supremacy in the man’s complexion. He said, “I already know what happened to Sarenti Dacule. Why don’t you explain? Did Gianan know? Is that why he was killed?”
“Well,” Giesa said. “I truly was wrong about you. You will be a wonderful detective someday, if you are not already.” Then he began to explain what he knew.
