HALF AN HOUR LATER I pulled up on Durant Avenue at the south entrance to the university. I ran inside Dwinelle Hall, where Lemouz had his office.

The professor was there, outfitted in a tweed jacket and white linen shirt, entertaining a coed with flowing red hair.

"Party's over," I said.

"Ah, Madam Lieutenant." He smiled. That condescend-ing accent, Etonian or Oxfordian or whatever the hell it was. "I was just counseling Annette here on how Foucault says that the same forces which historically depress class affect gender, too."

"Well, class is over, Red." I flashed the student an "I don't want to see you in here in about ten seconds" look. It took her about that long to gather her books and leave. To her credit, Red flashed me a middle finger at the door. I returned the favor.

"I'm delighted to see you again." Lemouz seemed not to mind and pushed back in his chair. "Given the sad affairs on the news this morning, I fear the subject is politics - not women's development."

"I think I misjudged you, Lemouz." I remained standing. "I thought you were just some pompous two-bit agitator, and you turn out to be a real player."

Lemouz crossed his legs and gave me a condescending smile. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

I took out the envelope with Santos's photos.

"What I'm really getting a kick out of, Lemouz, is that I'm what's keeping your ass away from Homeland Security. I pass along your name, with your public statements, the next time I see you, it'll be in a cell."

Lemouz leaned back in his chair, still with an amused smile. "And you're warning me, why, Lieutenant?"

"Who said I am warning you?"

His expression changed. He had no idea what I had on him. I liked that.

"What I find amusing" - Lemouz shook his head - "is how your blessed Constitution is so blind to people in this country who ar............