"Oh, thank you," she said. "Just set it next to the table, won't you? These gloves are sterile."

Latimer set the bag down, tipping it slightly. The end of the muffler trailed out on the floor. He methodically tucked it back in.

"I'd completely forgotten I left it there," Mary said, watching him. "In all the excitement, I — " She clapped her gloved hand over her mouth. "Oh, my Lord! Colin! I'd forgotten all about him. What time is it?"

"4:08," Montoya said without looking at her digital.

"He was supposed to come in at three," she said, standing up and clattering the vials of blood in their carrier.

"Perhaps when you weren't there he went round to your rooms," Dunworthy said.

She shook her head. "This is the first time he's been to Oxford. That's why I told him I'd be there to meet him. I never even gave him a thought until now," she said, almost to herself.

"Well, then, he'll still be at the Underground station," Dunworthy said. "Shall I go and fetch him?"

"No," she said. "You've been exposed."

"I'll phone the station then. You can tell him to take a taxi here. Where was he coming in? Cornmarket?"

"Yes, Cornmarket."

Dunworthy rang up information, got through on the third try, got the number off the screen and rang the station. The line was engaged. He hit disconnect and punched the number in again.

"Is Colin your grandson?" Montoya said. She had put aside her papers. The others didn't seem to be paying any attention to this latest development. Gilchrist was filling in his forms and glaring, as if this was one more example of negligence and incompetence. Latimer was sitting patiently by the tray, his sleeve rolled up. The medic was still asleep.

"He's my great-nephew," Mary said. "He was coming up on the tube to spend Christmas with me."

"What time was the quarantine called?"

"Ten past three," Mary said.

Dunworthy held up his hand to indicate he'd gotten through. "Is that Cornmarket Underground Station?" he said. It obviously was. He could see the gates and a lot of people behind an irritated-looking station master. "I'm phoning about a boy who came in on the tube at three o'clock. He's twelve. He would have come in from London." Dunworthy held his hand over the receiver and asked Mary, "What does he look like?"

"He's blonde and has blue eyes. He's tall for his age."

"Tall," Dunworthy said loudly over the sound of the crowd. "His name is Colin — "

"Templer," Mary said. "Dierdre said he'd take the tube from Marble Arch at one."

"Colin Templer. Have you seen him?"

"What the bloody hell do you mean have I seen him?" the stationmaster shouted. "I've got five hundred people in this station and you want to know if I've seen a little boy. Look at this mess."

The visual abruptly showed a milling crowd. Dunworthy scanned it, looking for a tallish boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. It switched back to the station master.

"There's just been a temp quarantine," he shouted over the roar which seemed to get louder by the minute, "and I've got a station full of people who want to know why the trains have stopped and why don't I do something about it. I've got all I can do to keep them from tearing the place apart. I can't bother about a boy."

"His name is Colin Templer," Dunworthy shouted. "His great aunt was supposed to meet him."

"Well, why didn't she then and make one less problem for me to deal with? I've got a crowd of angry people here who want to know how long the quarantine's going to last and why don't I do something about that — " He cut off suddenly. Dunworthy wondered if he'd hung up or had the phone snatched out of his hand by an angry shopper.

"Had the stationmaster seen him?" Mary said.

"No," Dunworthy said. "You'll have to send someone after him."

"Yes, all right. I'll send one of the staff," she said, and started out.

"The quarantine was called at 3:10, and he wasn't supposed to get here till three," Montoya said. "Maybe he was late."

That hadn't occurred to Dunworthy. If the quarantine had been called before his train reached Oxford, it would have been stopped at the nearest station and the passengers rerouted or sent back to London.

"Ring the station back," he said, handing her the phone. He told her the number. "Tell them his train left Marble Arch at one. I'll have Mary phone her niece. Perhaps Colin's back already."

He went out in the corridor, intending to ask the nurse to fetch Mary, but she wasn't there. Mary must have sent her to the station.

There was no one in the corridor. He looked down it at the call box he had used before and then walked rapidly down to it and punched in Balliol's number. There was an off-chance that Colin had gone to Mary's rooms after all. He would send Finch round, and if Colin wasn't there, down to the station. It would very likely take more than one person looking to find Colin in that mess.

"Hi," a woman said.

Dunworthy frowned at the number in the inset, but he hadn't misdialed. "I'm trying to reach Mr. Finch at Balliol College."

"He's not here right now," the woman, obviously American, said. "I'm Ms. Taylor. Can I take a message?"

This must be one of the bellringers. She was younger than he'd expected, not much over thirty, and she looked rather delicate to be a bellringer. "Would you have him call Mr. Dunworthy at Infirmary as soon as he returns, please?"

"Mr. Dunworthy." She wrote it down, and then looked up sharply. "Mr. Dunworthy," she said in an entirely different tone of voice, "are you the person responsible for our being held prisoner here?"

There was no good answer to that. He should never have phoned the junior common room. He had sent Finch to the bursar's office.

"The National Health Service issues temp quarantines in cases of an unidentified disease. It's a precautionary measure. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it's caused you. I've instructed my secretary to make your stay comfortable, and if there's anything I can do for you — "

"Do? Do?! You can get us to Ely, that's what you can do. My ringers were supposed to give a handbell concert at the cathedral at eight o'clock, and tomorrow we have to be in Norwich. We're ringing a peal on Christmas Eve."

He was not about to be the one to tell her they were not going to be in Norwich tomorrow. "I'm sure that Ely is already aware of the situation, but I will be more than happy to phone the cathedral and explain — "

"Explain! Perhaps you'd like to explain it to me, too. I'm not used to having my civil liberties taken away like this. In America, nobody would dream of telling you where you can or can't go."

And over ten million Americans died during the Pandemic as a result of that sort of thinking, he thought. "I assure you, Madam, that the quarantine is solely for your protection and that all of your concert dates will be more than willing to reschedule. In the meantime, Balliol is delighted to have you as our guests. I am looking forward to meeting you in person. Your reputation precedes you."

And if that were true, he thought, I would have told you Oxford was under quarantine when you wrote for permission to come.

"There is no way to reschedule a Christmas Eve peal. We were to have rung a new peal, the Chicago Surprise Minor. The Norwich Chapter is counting on us to be there, and we intend — "

He hit the disconnect button. Finch was probably in the bursar's office, looking for Badri's medical records, but Dunworthy wasn't going to risk getting another bell ringer. He looked up Regional Transport's number instead and started to punch it in.

The door at the end of the corridor opened, and Mary came through it.

"I'm trying Regional Transport," Dunworthy said, punching in the rest of the number and passing her the receiver.

She waved it away, smiling. "It's all right. I've just spoken to Dierdre. Colin's train was stopped at Barton. The passengers were put on the tube back to London. She's going down to Marble Arch to meet him." She sighed. "Dierdre didn't sound very glad that he's coming home. She planned to spend Christmas with her new livein's family, and I think she rather wanted him out of the way, but it can't be helped. I'm simply glad he's out of this."