The Dante Club

“You.” Lowell accused him suddenly. “You cut that threat into Longfellow’s window to put a scare into us so Longfellow might stop the translation!”

Bachi flinched, pretending not to understand. He removed a black bottle from his coat and heaved it to his lips, as though his throat were just a fu

“Signore,” said Longfellow. “We must know what you taught Mr. Galvin. He speaks and reads Italian now?”

Bachi threw his head back and laughed. “As little as you please! The man couldn’t read English if Noah Webster were standing by his side! He always dressed in your American soldier’s blue duds and gold buttons. He wanted Dante, Dante, Dante. It did not occur to him he must learn the language first. Che stranezza!”

“Did you lend him your translation?” Longfellow asked.

Bachi shook his head. “It was my hope to keep that enterprise entirely secret. I am sure we all know how your Mr. Fields reacts to any who try to rival his authors. In all events, I tried gratifying Signor Calvin’s strange wishes. I suggested we conduct the introductory Italian lessons by reading the Commedia together, line by line. But it was like reading alongside a dumb beast. Then he wished me to give a sermon on Dante’s Hell, but I refused on principle—if he wanted to engage me as a tutor, he must learn Italian.”

“You told him you would not continue the lessons?” asked Lowell.

“That would have given me the greatest pleasure, Professore. But one day he stopped calling on me. I have not been able to find him since—and have still not been compensated.”

“Signore,” said Longfellow. “This is very important. Did Mr. Galvin ever speak of individuals in our own time, our own city, whom he envisioned in his understanding of Dante? You must consider whether he ever mentioned anyone at all. Perhaps persons co

Bachi shook his head. “He hardly spoke at all, Signor Longfellow, like a dumb ox. Is this something to do with the College’s present campaign against your work?”

Lowell’s attention perked up. “What do you know of it?”

“I warned you of it when you came to see me, signore,” Bachi said. “I told you to take care of your Dante class, didn’t I? Do you recall when you saw me on the College Yard some weeks before that? I had received a message to meet a gentleman for a confidential interview—oh, how convinced I was that the Harvard fellows wanted me to return to my post! Imagine my stupidity! In truth, that blasted rogue was on some assignment to prove Dante’s ill effects on students, and wished me to assist.”

“Simon Camp,” Lowell said through clenched teeth.

“I almost punched his face in, I can tell you,” Bachi reported.

“I wish to God you had, Signor Bachi,” Lowell said, sharing a smile with him. “He yet may prove the ruin of Dante through all this. What did you reply to him?”

“How was I to respond? ‘Go to the Devil’ was all I could think to say. Here I am, barely able to buy my bread after so many years with the College, and who in the administration hires that jackass?”

Lowell snickered. “Who else? It was Dr. Ma

Caroline Ma

As Mrs. Ma

Mrs. Ma

“Could they have taken the carriage out?” Longfellow asked.

Mrs. Ma

“For Heaven’s sake,” she said when they found no trace of Dr. Ma

Longfellow did not answer.

“Has something happened to him? You must tell me at once!”

Longfellow’s words came slowly. “You must remain at your house to wait. He’ll return safely, Mrs. Ma

“Dr. Ma

Holmes stood leaning on Longfellow’s desk. “Because he is the worst, my dear Fields. As Hell deepens, narrows, the si

Patrolman Rey stood tall in the center of the study. “Gentlemen, you must review the sermons given by Mr. Greene in the last week so we can discern where Teal would take Ma

“Greene started this series of sermons with the Hypocrites,” explained Lowell. “Then he went on to the Falsifiers, including Counterfeiters. Finally, in the sermon witnessed by me and Fields, he went to the Traitors.”

Holmes said, “Ma

“Then we are left with the Falsifiers and the Traitors against One’s Nation,” said Longfellow.

“Ma

“The Traitors against Nation undermine the good of one’s people,” Longfellow said. “We find them in the ninth circle—the lowest.”

“Fighting our Dante projects, in this case,” said Fields.

Holmes considered this. “That’s it, isn’t it? We’ve learned that Teal dresses in his uniform when involved in his Dantesque mode, whether he is studying Dante or preparing his murders. This shines light into the landscape of his mind: In his sickness, he swaps guarding the Union with guarding Dante.”

Longfellow said, “And Teal would have witnessed Ma