The Story of Samo: Chapter Four, Part Four

February 19, 2009 at 6:36 am (Story)

Hours later, Giesa finished telling Tarat about the Inventors and the history of their order. He was surprised to learn that they went even farther back than Sarenti Dacule, the man whose pseudonym gave them their recognized name. In fact, the order was nearly a thousand years old. What surprised him even more, was that Samo had been correct. Sarenti Dacule had gone to Hell and back, and then continued to live on. Giesa explained everything about them, everything he knew anyway. He knew a lot. He had traveled with Dacule, even lived in his home (a location that he failed to mention), and knew him as a friend.

After the detective was finished speaking, Tarat sat in stunned silence for some time to try to sort things out. Many things, he had missed. Many, he simply did not understand. There were a few things, however, that he tried to piece together. Hopefully, understanding them would yield information. So much, so quickly would drown a man’s mind like a rush of water would drown even a man dying of thirst. Tarat was about to speak when they heard the heavy boots of a man walking to the back. They both looked toward the door as Tansu, the bookseller, walked in and said, “There is a man here to see you. He is from the police.”

Giesa closed the books and stacked them. He said, “Which of us is he here to see?”

“Both of you.” His voice cracked—fear, perhaps? He said, “He knows you are both here.”

Tarat looked at Giesa nervously. The detective patted his hand on the air to calm him. He said, “I told someone where I was going. If this is whom I think it is, we have nothing to fear.” He turned to Tansu and said, “Could you take care of these while we talk to the man? I’ll tell you if any customers come in.”

Tansu smiled. He said, “I closed my doors an hour ago. I only let the man in because of his uniform. I’ll stay back here, though.”

“Thank you,” he answered. He motioned for Tarat to follow him as they walked into the main room of the store. Standing at the counter, there was a police officer in the blue tunic that all were required to wear. He had dark blond hair and bushy eyebrows. His nose seemed to have been broken once in the past. Tarat did not recognize him. Giesa, when he saw the man, breathed a sigh of relief. He said, “Well, do you have any information?”

The man nodded and said, “Tarat’s attacker was apprenticed to a candle maker. His name was Delar Naram.”

Naram? Tarat’s head went up at the sound of the name. He said, “Was he any relation to the chancellor of the Academy?”

“Distant,” the man answered. “I don’t have any reason to believe they knew each other, but my sources tell me that they were distant cousins from generations back.”

Giesa asked, “What about a motive?”

The officer shook his head. Softly, he said, “I talked to the man’s master and found out that he didn’t even know who Lasci was, and had only heard of Gianan because of the news. I don’t know why he might have done it. He didn’t even have reason to rob a house. The master was quite rich.”

“Do you think he may have been a fence, or that Delar might have been keeping something from him?”

“Not a chance.” The officer shook his head again. “The candle maker keeps a very dictatorial hold on his apprentices. That’s even how he said it, as a matter of fact, dictatorial.”

Giesa nodded. He said, “Is there any more?”

“No, sir.” With a wave of Giesa’s hand, the officer nodded and walked out of the shop. When the man was gone, Giesa set his elbow on the counter and groaned.

“This is bad,” he said. “This is very bad.” Before Tarat could ask what he meant, he said, “I need to go. Be careful tonight.” Without another word, he was out the door. Tarat stepped toward him, but stopped as the door closed. Tansu poked his head out from the back room and said, “Are you going to be staying much longer? I’d like to get home soon.”

Tarat shook his head. “No, Tansu. You’ve been a great help today. I’ll be going now.” Then, he stepped forward and stepped out into the night.

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