I could still not bring myself to be like Vidal, though, ready to unfold what I knew from the orient to the drooping west, to tell anyone who would listen. I ought to reserve that particular exclusive for Muriel and so, that same afternoon, I had to dodge Professor Rico’s questions as best I could. He was in such a foul mood after his lunch with the mummies that, initially, he forgot what had happened earlier and that he had ordered me to make detailed notes about why Van Vechten was an utter bastard and to inform him of his crimes.
‘What a bloody awful lunch,’ was his first comment. He removed his glasses and breathed on them furiously as if intending, after the fact, to poison his loathsome lunch companions with his breath. Such was his annoyance and frustration that he had dropped in at Calle Velázquez in order to vent his feelings on whoever happened to be there. ‘The three of them behaved like absolute piranhas and did nothing but raise objections and throw past insults in my face, insults I’d heaped on them, you understand; they were like the three witches in Macbeth at their most doom-laden or tricoteuses huddled round the guillotine. It’s true that in certain academic articles I did describe them as inept, superficial, obvious, ill-informed and obtuse, and even called one stupid. Not that I did so directly, mind, but it was implied; the fellow had dared to criticize my conclusions about Lazarillo in an impeccable study of mine that deserved, certainly in his case, open-mouthed reverence. But they’re just hell-bent on getting their own back. These were, in short, mere skirmishes; and since my arguments were unassailable, he immediately clammed up so that I wouldn’t lay into him if he attempted a riposte. Well, what does he expect when I have an unerring eye — or should that be aim? — and always get what I want? Those semi-cadavers know that all they’re good for is correcting exam papers with a chewed red pencil. Érforstrafó.’ — He came out with a possibly rage-fuelled onomatopoiea, longer than usual and with two stresses. He continued to breathe hard on his glasses as if he were a fire-breathing dragon, until the lenses were completely fogged; then, with remarkable dexterity, he removed a lens cloth from his glasses case and unfurled it with a flick of the wrist just as magicians do with their vast handkerchiefs. — ‘They made it clear that they have no intention of voting for me when my sponsors propose me as a candidate. Since they’re a meddlesome trio, I fear they may succeed in convincing some of their duller or dimmer colleagues, of which there are quite a few. They were clearly thrilled at the thought of having their revenge. The most irritating thing was that I could barely remember what it was I’d written that had so put their respective noses out of joint. That’s the trouble with dispensing blind justice, one doesn’t notice who one’s victims are.’ — He applied himself to polishing the lenses with painstaking brio, and they were so damp by then that they were sure to turn out spotless. Then he put the cloth away with a suave gesture (in this respect, he reminded me of Herbert Lom), lit a cigarette, and his gaze grew calmer as he added with jovial optimism (he was not a man to harbour resentments, he got bored too quickly for that): ‘Perhaps it would be best to wait until they kick the bucket before presenting myself as a candidate. I shouldn’t think any of them are going to last very long given the way they were coughing. Several times they came close to choking — it quite put me off my food. I hardly ate so much as a chickpea.’ — And it was then, to drive away this unpleasant thought, that he remembered I owed him a piece of gossip. — ‘Ah yes, what news of the Doctor, young Vera? When I left, that vehement, well-read friend of yours was about to tell you all about his horrendous crimes.’
‘Oh, it turned out to be a fuss about nothing, Professor. Hardly worth mentioning. Vidal was exaggerating, he just regaled me with a lot of hospital tittle-tattle and conference gossip. Well, you know what doctors are like, always at each other’s throats.’ — This was completely untrue, or at least I had no evidence to back it up, I knew nothing about their quarrels and rivalries. I imagined, though, that these did exist, as they do in any profession in Spain: even chimneysweeps have their differences, to mention a trade that ceased to exist centuries ago.
Rico regarded me suspiciously. I could see his eyes perfectly now, not a speck of dust marred the lenses.
‘Enough of this namby-pambyism, young Vere. You’re not going to bamboozle me, I’m not your gull.’ — He had resorted once more to his outdated vocabulary, and although I didn’t understand a word, I knew exactly what he meant. — ‘If you don’t want to tell me, then don’t, but I’m sure your friend wasn’t talking about nurse-chasing or plagiarism or stolen accreditations. Nor even groping any female patients who come within range or mothers accompanying their children. It’s as clear as day that the Doctor is an old lecher and we all know it, but that doesn’t make him an utter bastard.’ — He used the same word, ‘lecher’, that Celia had used, although it sounded less damning on his lips; neither of them knew just how right they were. — ‘The country would be full of utter bastards then, well, it is already: you need only look at those three old fossils who’ve just given me the go-by.’ — And he resumed his attack on those ancient academicians.