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After frowning slightly—a small crack in the façade of bureaucractic solidarity!—Dr. Wright began tapping again on hers.
    “As it happens, I was supposed to meet both of them this afternoon for a meeting on another subject,” Michael said. “Why don’t I call and suggest they come out here a little earlier, since you’re already here.”
    “And since we have heat,” I added. “We can find you a warm place to work in the meantime.”
    “I have a rather busy schedule today,” Blanco began.
    “But this is a rather important issue,” Wright said. Was there a note of deliberate sarcasm in the way she echoed the word rather? Perhaps another crack? “And we’d have finished this by now if you’d been on time.”
    Definitely a crack.
    “If you feel it’s essential,” Blanco murmured. His shoulders were hunched, making him look like a turtle trying to pull its head into its shell.
    “I’ll call right now,” Michael said. He pulled out his cell phone and stepped into the living room, presumably to make his calls in greater privacy.
    Wright and Blanco turned to me. Dr. Wright took a step closer to me, and I sneezed several times. Apparently she was the source of the perfume reek. Luckily my sneezing encouraged her to take a step back.
    “We’ll need someplace to work,” Dr. Wright announced. “I will require a place where I can use my laptop.”
    “I’d like a room where I can make some phone calls,” Blanco said. “Without disturbing Dr. Wright.”
    I got the impression that disturbing Dr. Wright was something he tried at avoid at all costs.
    “Most of our rooms are dormitories right now,” I said. “How about our library? It’s a bit messy—the students have been using it as a sort of common area. But I’ll keep them out for the time being. And Dr. Blanco, if you need a place to make calls where you won’t disturb Dr. Wright, you could either use the sunporch off the library or my office.”
    “Your office might be preferable,” Blanco began. “It’s near the library?”
    “No, it’s out in the barn,” I said. He blinked in surprise. “I’m a blacksmith,” I explained, “so it makes sense for me to have my office near my forge. But don’t worry; it’s got a space heater.”
    “Well, if—” Blanco began.
    Just then Señor Mendoza erupted from the kitchen. He was managing an impressive speed, especially considering that he was waving his walking stick over his head instead of using it for support. Behind him surged a crowd of students.
    “What’s going on here?” Michael asked, sticking his head out into the hall. His words were lost in the confusion.
    Mendoza stumped over to Wright and Blanco and began shouting at them. In English.
    “Philistines!” he shouted. “Book burners! Assassins of culture! Jackals without souls! Harpies!”
    He kept on in much the same vein, and I found myself thinking that considering English was his second—if not third—language, he really did have quite a gift for fiery, nonobscene invective. I was just considering whether to fish my notebook out of my pocket and jot down a few choice insults when Mendoza stopped and clutched at his chest.

Chapter 5
    The students seemed frozen in shock at seeing Señor Mendoza’s distress.
    “Someone help him,” I shouted. “Where’s Dad?”
    “Fetch Dr. Langslow!” Michael said, as he hurried to Mendoza’s side. “He’s out in the yard.”
    Several students scurried to follow his orders. One, more quick-thinking than the rest, grabbed a chair and he and Michael eased the old playwright into it.
    “Someone run to the bathroom and get the aspirin, in case he’s having a heart attack,” I called.
    Several students ran off to follow my orders. Mendoza rattled off something in Spanish that seemed to reassure those who could understand it. Then he reached into his pocket and took out an enormous pill bottle and handed it to one of the students.
    “Apparently he’s not having an attack.” Michael