The Geographer's Library

Jon Fasman
irritating his superiors. He will most likely retain his job. But he will never
have anything to do with any of these matters again. This is the condition Mr.
Sickle has laid out for keeping this matter quiet, away from the press.”
He pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket, and as he unfolded it, I
noticed that the paper was of unusually good quality: thick and bonded, with
a watermark visible in the morning light. Why that detail stays with me, I
don’t know. “‘Detective Joseph Jadid is to avoid disturbing or in any way tarnishing
the memory of Jaan Pühapäev, a valued member of Wickenden’s
academic community and an upstanding citizen of Lincoln, Connecticut.’
Mr. Sickle’s letter to Commissioner Pereira.”
“So what happens now?” I asked after a long, defeated pause.
“Now? Well, as I told you, I have no intention of killing you. Nor any
desire, really, after our conversation. What happens now is entirely up to you.
If you feel compelled to write about or further investigate this story, I can
hardly stop you, though naturally it will most likely lead to the conviction of
you, Joseph Jadid, and Hannah Rowe, at least for breaking and entering. But
are you asking my advice?”
“Sure, why not?” I had thought him deluded, a little kooky, when he first
started talking about emeralds and secret crystals and living forever. Even if
his alchemy bullshit was just a screen, it was still first-rate bullshit. And I am
nothing if not a producer and consumer of bullshit.
“Heed your friend’s request, and just drop it. Just let it go. You are a
young man; your capacity to forget, to heal, exceeds your expectations. Especially
now, so lovelorn and deprived of sleep.” Tonu paused and gazed at me
steadily, his eyes dropping to examine how I was holding the gun (lightly and
away from him, until he looked and I snapped it back up).
“Besides, everyone loses once in a great while. Even me, as you can see.
And in this case also you.” Again he paused, and again I didn’t shoot him. “If
I can wonder aloud, you seem an intelligent and serious young man. I cannot
understand why you remain in this town.”
“Well, there’s Hannah. There was Hannah.”
“Ah. You will never see her again.”
“I’m sorry? How do you know? Just because—”
“You no doubt smelled smoke last night on your way into Lincoln?”
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