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"Thomas, good, please come in." She motioned down the hall. "John, send in Mr. Purcival as soon as he arrives. Oh, he's there by the door, and Ricky Esquivel, that young man in the gang colors. No one else." As I entered the room, Variety gave me a pinch and a warning sign with her eyes. All was not safe and in the open. I figured I'd better watch my P's and Q's. Up against the walls of the room were several of the senior staff.

Heading up the conference table was some overweight Catholic priest to whom Sister Alicia, the managing director of the school, was being decidedly deferential. Joining them was Sister Ruth, the pinch-faced chief administrator, Sister Mary Catherine, the academic head mistress and another of my buddies, Sister Willa.

I like Sister Willa. She had only come to the school two years before. She had been a university history professor and had decided to teach younger people because as she put it. "I chose to make history instead of teaching it." She headed the small middle school program and taught preschool gymnastics.

Before I could take a seat, the door opened again and in came the unlikely duo of the male model and the gang leader. The guy in the silk suit had alert, clever eyes and moved with an astounding gracefulness. His dark complexion and coal black hair crowned a hawklike face, arresting and elegant. I decided there might be more to him than good looks.