Gabriel’s own voice surprised him, ‘Come in, Mr Ren. The judge insisted you leave whatever you brought with you.’
‘He said that?’
‘With great interest.’
Ren looked doubtful. He knew about the old disagreement between father and son. Glanced at the suitcase with metal rivets. ‘I’ve brought the judge something very special.’
Gabriel’s voice carried on and he decided to let it, ‘I’m sure you have. That’s what he’s expecting. That’s what we’re expecting. Something special.’
He invited him into the study. For old times’ sake. Ren alighted on the mahogany table, opened the suitcase very slowly, as if something might escape. Gabriel Samos wondered what effect a handful of Coccinella septempunctata might have, carrying seven little dots on their wings. The tic in his hand had gone, the way it opened and closed.
‘Here it is.’ Ren’s face was red. His cheeks, inflamed.
‘Borrow’s book. The New Testament. Here, look at the signature. The dedication written with a quill. A wild goose quill, I dare say.’
For Antonio de la Trava, the valiente of Finisterra.
‘See! Look at the date: Madrid, 1837.’
‘Is it very valuable?’ asked Gabriel Samos with a show of indifference.
‘Very valuable, you say? You’ve no idea how much work a thing like this can give. Your father’s been after this book for years. But I told him, “For books, you needs must wait.”’
The pimple, the spot on his nose, was also inflamed.
‘Like this one. See, it’s in English. A first edition. Ulysses. Now I’m no expert, but I have a rough idea of the value of things. And this is worth a lot.’
‘That’s strange!’
‘What is?’
‘That you should find it now. Here.’
‘What’s strange about that, Master Samos? Here there were always highly cultivated people. And good libraries. Even workers had libraries. No, Master Samos, this is not the back of beyond.’
To start with, Gabriel thought he might be teasing him. The way he called him ‘master’. The way he praised workers’ ransacked libraries. But then he realised he wasn’t. He was being serious.
‘It’s not easy to find what you’re looking for. And I’m in no fit state to rummage around. If I made an effort now, it was because of your father. He called me from hospital the first time he was admitted. He was excited. Very excited. Had a lead. So old Ren here got back on his feet.’
He flourished Ulysses. ‘It would seem half the world would go crazy for this book. It has only one little defect, apart from the fact you can’t understand it. A flyleaf is missing.’
Gabriel anxiously flicked through the pages. Muttered, ‘I wonder if it has an ex-libris.’
Ren was sweating. Took off his hat and laid it on the suitcase. Wiped his stunted head with a handkerchief. Breathed in through his nose. Seemed to be sniffing a new scent that had found its way into the house. A scent sewn to the plants.
‘It may have. I don’t know, nor do I care.’
‘It’d make it more valuable,’ said Gabriel.
‘More valuable? I doubt it. Who the heck cares about ownership? These pieces are of incalculable value.’ He whispered the word again, like an echo, ‘Incalculable.’
‘How much is incalculable, Ren?’
Ren dried his hands on the handkerchief and stuffed it, withered and hanging, back into his jacket pocket. Said, ‘Let’s see. These objects are difficult to value. Some things are just priceless. Your father would have paid well. Extremely well. In this case, I’d have said the payment would have been splendid.’
‘How much?’ asked Gabriel again.
Author’s Acknowledgements
The author wishes to thank the following:
The staff of Coruña and the Archive of the Kingdom of Galicia’s libraries. Xan Carlos Agra, Xesús Alonso Montero, Cleudene Aragão, Mimina Arias, Pedro and Pepe Barrós, Manuel Bermúdez Chao, Vicente Boquete Tito, Fermín Bouza, Manuel Bragado, Euan Cameron, Picco Carillo, Esther Casal, Xosé Castro, Ramón Chao, Xosé Chao Rego, Cheni, Antonio Conde, Juan Cruz, Isaac Díaz Pardo, Pilar Diz, Antón Doiro, Jonathan Dunne, Amaya Elezcano, Xaime Enríquez, Guillermo Escrigas, Manuel Espiña, Carlos Fernández, María Estrela Fernández and the family of the murdered Coruñan book-collector Eirís, Benito Ferreiro (son), Xosé A. Gaciño, Víctor García de la Concha, Beatriz Gómez (from Silva), Benito González, Xesús González Gómez, Henrique Harguindey, Juantxu Herguera, the tailor Mr Iglesias, Luis Lamela, Xurxo Lobato, Lola from Lume, Antón López, Alberte Maceda, Santiago Macías, Bernardo Máiz, Danilo Manera, Xosé Luís Martínez, Carlos Martínez-Buján, Xosé Mato, Serge Mestre, César A. Molina, Enrique Molist, Xulio Montero, Eirín Moure, Serafín Mourelle, Xosé Manuel Muñiz, Antón Patiño, Dionisio Pereira, Nonito Pereira, Carlos Pereira Martínez, Gabriel Plaza, Xulio Prada, Miguelanxo Prado, Xesús María Reiriz, Manuel Rodríguez, Ana Romero, Josep Maria Joan Rosa, Andrés Salgueiro, Carme Salorio, Manuel Sánchez Salorio, Antón de Santiago, Sito Sedes, Felipe Senén, Xavier Seoane, Xurxo Souto, Celia Torres Bouzas, Dolores Torres París, Olivia Tudela, Alberto Valín, Elvira Varela, Ánxel Vázquez de la Cruz, Mari Vega, Graça Videira, Manuel Vilariño, Dolores Vilavedra, Elke Wehr, Manuel Zamora.
Iria, Gastón, Miguelón, César Carlos Morán, the group Jarbanzo Negro and Rómulo Sanjurjo.
Pedro de Llano.
His uncle Francisco and aunts Manola and Pepita.
Paco, Sabela and Felicitas.
Sol and Martiño.
Isa.