The professor had invited me over to his residence on Elisabeth street to introduce me to a friend of his who he thought could help solve my problem of the Mossad. 'I'll cook up a meal,' he'd said. So I dressed for the occasion and as the sun was setting I made my usual entrance. The monumental door of the 18th century mansion was opened by a pretty creole girl with hair that upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell.
'The professor ain't here but you can come in, he'll be back in a little while,' she said and led me through a side door into a large library, two stories high and lit by a gorgeous stained glass sky light, that almost took my breath away. And there, on the uppermost tier, stood professor Hubnoth on a ladder, his head almost touching the ceiling, while tracing a line of books with his fingers. He took out a leather bound tome and blew the dust away from the spine.
'Ovid,' he mumbled, 'that poor wretched man. Died in exile in the last outback at world's end.' Then, still perched high on his ladder, he looked down and smiled. 'How good of you to come!' He came down and enthusiastically pumped my arm in a meaty handshake. 'Would you care for a glass of whisky?' I nodded and watched him move towards a side table where he poured the whisky in two glasses. The professor was impeccably dressed in a midnight blue dinner jacket, bow tie and black trousers.
'Not en femme tonight?', I asked, just to make conversation.
'O no, never in the house and never on formal occasions,' he answered while handing me my glass.
At that moment the doorbell rang. 'That'll be the Magister. I wonder what you think of him. He is quite brilliant, you know.'
As we turned expectantly towards the door of the library we heard a deep booming voice say 'thank you so much, child, you are very kind,' and then a moment later the Magister stepped into the room. I couldn't believe my eyes. A Dominican monk stood in the doorway, all dressed in white, a white tunic that almost touched his sandals, a white scapular and over the shoulders the white capuce. Around his middle a leather belt and a rosary. He was the perfect image of a priest.