We wanted to see Paul Mastellotto after lunch, but were told by the instructor sharing his office that he didn’t teach Tuesdays. Mastellotto would be in tomorrow after class.
“I’d come early,” the instructor said, taking down my name. “This close to midterms, His Eminence always has a lineup.”
Dana Essex’s office was down one floor in the English department. Her door was locked. I phoned her as we headed to the car, but didn’t leave a message. On the drive back to Vancouver, she returned my call.
“Sorry,” she said in lieu of salutation.
“Were you in class?”
“No, just indisposed. Has there been any news?”
I filled her in on the investigation, leaving out for the moment the darker possibilities.
“What do you know about Paul Mastellotto?” I asked.
“He’s an instructor here. But you probably knew that. He’s ABD—all but dissertation. Meaning he doesn’t have his doctorate.”
“What’s he like as a human being?” I asked. “Good guy? Sleazebag? Popular with the kids?” Essex didn’t respond. “All three?”
“He’s very passionate,” she said tactfully. “Some students appreciate that about him.”
“I’ve heard complaints.”
“Sexual?”
“No,” she said, almost scoffing at the word. “Just that he has very strong political convictions, and doesn’t perhaps enjoy the dialogic element of teaching.”
“Meaning the back-and-forth? He more of a this-is-how-it-is type?”
“And as I said, some students are very drawn to that.”
“Anyway, I’m talking to him tomorrow afternoon. Might see you on campus.” I hesitated. “There’s a good chance we’ll find Tabitha, and this whole thing will be over nothing. She’ll be on a Greenpeace barge, or backpacking through the Ardennes, or whatever twentysomething kids do.”
“I got the impression,” Essex said, “that you yourself were recently of that age group.”
“I’m thirty,” I said, “but I’m not exactly in step with people my age. Ever read William Gibson?”
“I’m somewhat familiar.”
“He has that line in Neuromancer, ‘Don’t let the little shits generation-gap you.’”
“Right. So?”
“Well, they generation-gapped me.”
Essex’s laughter seemed to contain surprise at its own existence.
“I have confidence you’ll find Tabitha and that everything will be all right,” Essex said.
“I’ll try to keep my billable hours low.”
“See you tomorrow, Dave.”