“Most of the time I go to the library,” Penny replied. “It’s not as cozy there, so it’s easier to stay awake.”
Dina and Joann caught up to them in time to hear this. Joann gave a small smile. “After twenty pages of my psych text, it is hard to stay awake anywhere,” she said.
“You should try economics,” Dina told her. “Five pages is better than any sleeping pill.”
At the back of the entrance hall a wide stairway led to the upper floors. When the girls reached the second floor, Penny said, “Bess, we’re down this way. Room One Fourteen.”
“And we are in the other direction, in One Fifty-one,” Joann said to George.
Nancy made a mental note of the two room numbers, then gave Dina a querying look.
“Another flight,” Dina said. “Sorry.”
At the top of the stairs Dina turned left along a narrow corridor. Each door had a whiteboard attached to it, with the names of the occupants at the top and a marker dangling from a string. Nancy noted some of the messages on the boards as she walked past.
“Lynn—meet at library.” “Hi, Kevin, catch you later, Pat.” “HELP—e-mail me calc assignment ASAP, Josie.”
Up ahead, Dina came to a sudden stop next to one of the doors. The stiff way she was holding her shoulders alerted Nancy that something was wrong. Nancy walked faster, then broke into a run.
Dina was staring at her whiteboard. Below her name was a crude drawing of a heart with a dagger sticking through it.
4
Threats and Menaces
As Dina stared at the ominous drawing, she was feeling around in her shoulder bag. Pulling out a tissue, she swiped it across the whiteboard.
“Wait!” Nancy started to say. Too late. Dina had already wiped away the evidence.
Nancy quickly closed her eyes and tried to visualize the drawing. Had there been anything unusual about it? It seemed to her that the point of the dagger was unfinished. Maybe the perpetrator had been interrupted while drawing it.
“This time I know Vlad is guilty,” Dina asserted.
Nancy looked at her. The girl’s fists were clenched so tightly that her nails were digging into her palms. Her eyes blazed with anger.
“What makes you so sure?” Nancy asked. “That was a pretty ugly thing to find on your door, but I didn’t notice any signature on it.”
“Only a filthy Rethal would stoop to such a deed,” Dina replied. “Who but Vlad would know what this means to me? You must understand, the heart is the sacred symbol of my homeland. To put a knife through it like that is to stab me and every Gorvonian!”
Uh-oh. Nancy realized that she was in the middle of an emotional minefield. Unless she was very careful, any step she took in any direction could result in an explosion.
“Dina?” Nancy began. “When was the last time you were at your room today?”
“An hour ago?” Dina replied. “A little more, maybe. That was when I discovered that infamous message.”
“And there wasn’t any drawing on your door then?” Nancy continued.
“Of course not!” Dina exclaimed. “Would I have left it there for everyone to see?”
“Hmm.” Nancy rubbed the back of her neck. “And the heart symbol—is it widely known?”
Dina raised her chin. “In my part of the world, everyone knows that the heart is the Gorvonian emblem,” she replied sternly.
“Oh, I’m sure they do,” Nancy said hastily. “I meant here, at Emerson College. I imagine most students don’t know much about Gorvonia.” To herself she added, Or even know it exists.
“This is so,” Dina said. “I do what I can to educate them. Last semester I gave a slide show about the history and culture of my country.”
“And you mentioned the heart symbol?” Nancy prodded.
Dina stood taller. “Of course. The first slide was the national coat of arms. Why are you asking this?”
“I was just wondering,” Nancy said. “From what you say, anyone who came to your slide show would know what a horrible insult that drawing would be. Were there many people there?”
“I did not count,” Dina told her with gloomy pride. “Many from the IFC, of course. Others? Well . . . this is not a place with a strong international outlook. Besides, there was a sports rally and bonfire the same night.”
She took out her key and opened the door. “Please come in,” she said, standing aside. “This is your home.”
The room was furnished as a double, with the beds arranged in an L. An easy chair occupied one corner. A desk, against the opposite wall, held a stack of books and papers and a laptop computer. The twin windows looked out into the upper branches of an oak tree.
“Where do you want me?” Nancy asked.
“The bed on the right.” Dina said in reply.
“Sure,” Nancy said quickly.
“Good.” Dina rummaged around on her desktop and found a set of keys. “These are for you. The girls’ bathroom is down the hall to the left. I must go to the meeting. We will meet later.”
Dina started toward the door, then turned back and paused. For a moment a smile lighted her face. She looked like a different person. “I am glad you are here, Nancy,” she said. “I will like to share my room with you, if only for the weekend.”
