It was almost the dead of night when I heard sounds of galloping outside on the street. I took a gander from my window to check who it was, and I saw a familiar carriage parking by the entrance of the hotel. Only this time, there seems to be a different cochero driving it - a frail man in a camisa wearing a salakot.

A few seconds passed and Basilio exited the car, who then proceeded to have a few words with the new coachman before sending him on his way. He then looked up facing the window of the room I am observing from and gave me a slight nod before proceeding to the hotel entrance.

It did not take long before I heard a knock on the door. I then immediately released the lock to grant Basilio access to the premises, who then came in storming like a madman and shut the door with a loud bang.

"Goddamn it. We have a problem." Basilio exhaled as he stowed away his coat and revolver near his bedside table. He then proceeded to get a clean glass from the dining table and filled it with the remaining contents of the bottle of sherry I drank earlier.

"I had assumed that whatever arrangements you had with Placido was concluded successfully judging by the lack of the members of the police on our doorstep." I jested. "Sit. Tell me what happened."

"I'd rather stand, Isagani. Thank you. It...helps me gather my thoughts." answered Basilio as he took a huge sip of wine. "The bastard has been keeping the letters of our correspondences around with him, and he's using it to blackmail us."

"And how in the world can he do that?" I asked in a skeptical tone. "Those letters are purchase orders of weapons that are clearly addressed to him. Is he mad? He might as well turn himself in while presenting those letters as evidence. How is he supposed to blackmail us with that?"

"He says that the new Captain-General is already on his tail." Basilio answered. "According to his spies, a secret police force has been allegedly established to hunt him down. By the way he puts it, it seems that they are already picking up on the evidence of black market firearms sale that are pointing towards him, and he wants us to track down all of its members. He threatens to give us up if he's discovered and caught."

"Tinamaan ng-! We can't do what he wants! Our spies are already stretched." I protested. "Can't he do that on his own? I mean, he already discovered the secret police. Why stop there?"

"I don't think he'd be this desperate if he can handle this by himself." argued Basilio. "Let's play along for now. After all, it's to our best interest that he isn't caught. We need his weapons."

"Ugh. Fair enough." I conceded. "I'll see if I can hire more people."

Basilio then proceeded to finish his drink in one big gulp. "How about you? Anything of note that happened while I was away?"

"Indeed." I told him. "Paulita came here earlier in the afternoon."

"Well, what an interesting thing indeed!" noted Basilio. "Did she say what purpose she had for visiting? Was she accompanied or was she alone."

"She came alone...or so she says. She asked on behalf of Don Timoteo Pelaez if we could meet him in San Diego for a business proposal. The old man knows of our project to build a schoolhouse there."

"And?" Basilio urged, as if expecting more from my answer. "Come on, my friend. You and Paulita were the only ones talking in this room, aren't you? I refuse to believe that those were the ONLY things that transpired in this room."

"Oh, you bastard! You and your innuendos." I jokingly scoffed. "Nothing of the kind, I swear! We cannot afford a scandal."

"Really?" Basilio snickered. "What she did, talking to you alone and in private is a scandal in itself." Basilio argued. "You're lucky the attendants here are not people who like to talk. Y-you do realize that she is just playing with you, right?"

"I am aware of that." I assured him. "Why else would Don Timoteo send Paulita to do his dirty work if not to entice me to give in."

"So what answer did you give her? About the proposal, I mean." Basilio asked.

"I...really did not give an answer." I replied. "I told her that we will have to think about it once we hear it from Don Timoteo himself. Besides, it really just seemed that Paulita was just there for an invitation."

"I see." Basilio commented. "Is that all? Are you sure she did not have another...'business proposal' in mind?"

"Again with the innuendos, Basilio." I sighed. "She brought up her sudden marriage to Juanito and I just shook it off like it was nothing. And...interestingly enough, Paulita mentioned of Don Timoteo's partnerships with the diocesan corporations. I am not sure why she disclosed this to me, but...she did."

"Well, it seems like someone's trying to work you over one more time." Basilio laughed. He then went into a short pause before continuing. "You know, it's strange, really. You treating her as nice as humanly possible despite what she's done. After all these years, it seems that you're still that 'puritan' Juanito described you to be ten years ago." he said as he paced towards me.

"I'd rather be a decent human being whenever I can." I answered.

Basilio smiled. "I don't doubt that." he said as he gave me a quick pat on the shoulder.

"So what's the plan going to be?" I asked.

"One thing is for sure : we need more eyes and ears around the towns, specifically around Pugadlawin and Sta. Mesa." Basilio remarked. "Our ignorance to your uncle's death was a clear sign of our hubris and therefore lapse in judgement. We also need to establish spy rings around key strategic locations in Luzon: Pampanga, Bulacan, Cavite, Nueva Ecija and here in Batangas. We need to be careful, though. There is a possibility that we may have introduced some of Placido's spies into our fold, otherwise he wouldn't have known about your uncle's official postmortem examination. It is plausible since he is an established syndicate leader here in Luzon. The same cannot be said for the secret police that we're asked to deal with. We need to tread carefully."

"How do you suggest we deal with this problem?" I asked.

"Hmm...that is a tricky one." Basilio replied, scratching his chin as he contemplated on the question, pacing to and fro the window.

"Well, we can try to isolate individual spy rings in each region to limit the movement of information. You know, maintain anonymity of the members of each ring to their counterparts in other regions." I suggested.

"We can do that, but I am certain one way or another Placido will pick up on our shenanigans. Isolating our spies would be too conspicuously unusual for him not to notice. Remember, he might have spies among our spies. He'll think we're trying to cut him off." Basilio retorted.

"There's no need to worry if we can be subtle about it." I reasoned.

"And how shall we do that, aber?" he challenged.

"Simple." I replied with a smile. "Just do it under the pretense of precaution against the secret police and we'll be fine."

Basilio paused, then paced some more as he ponders upon my answer.

"Hmm. You know, that would make sense." he replied, finally conceding. "That would do for now."

"That's the most condescending 'that would do for now' I've heard from you in years. What, you can't believe that I'm doing the thinking this time?" I jokingly taunted him.

"Of course I'll set my pride aside if your suggestion makes sense, Isagani. Scrutiny is the key to a successful plan, my friend." he responed. "That is how we will proceed in the meantime, until we can sort out a way to go through some papers in the Malacañan that will help us identify our targets. Placido may have the same idea, so we must do it as quickly as we can."

"Well, what happened to the 'mutual interests' that you've been yapping about the two of you back then?" I replied with a sneer.

"I was hoping I would be able to convince him to join our fight. He would've been a valuable ally. I suppose it was wishful thinking on my end." he answered in a low voice. "But then again, him providing our weapons for a price is better than nothing at all."

"Ehhh, I guess you're right." I conceded. "By the way, what are we going to do with the port authorities here? They'll make a problem for us once our shipment arrives from America next month. It's not like we can just have them murdered, you know. That would be enough excuse for the Captain-General to declare martial law and we don't want that."

"Of course we won't do that. That would be folly." he remarked with aversion. "What we can do, though, is to frame them for doing something illegal. With what, well...let me think about that."

"Possession of high-caliber weapons would do nicely." I suggested.

"No. If we do that, the government will suspect an insurrection. That will give the government enough excuse to declare martial law as well. We can't risk it." Basilio parried.

"How about racketeering? That would be more fitting, don't you think? Considering what they did last time." I suggested anew.

"That's hard to prove. Very hard to prove. Weren't you paying attention to the mariner back at the ship?" Basilio reproached. "Well, I have an idea though. I'm not entirely sure, but we can try...wait, I have it. Aha! Eureka!"

"What?" I asked, curious about his idea.

"Drug possession." Basilio answered. "It's the oldest trick in the book, but this, I think would suffice to remove them permanently. Remember the decree the Captain-General had passed one month after he assumed office?"

"Yes, that's the ban on opium, right?" I answered.

"In essence, it just meant that there would be stricter implementation of the rule. It's not like it was never illegal in the first place, but you get the point. The idea is simple: we bribe a few men from the Civil Guard, give an anonymous tip to their commanding officers to conduct a search on the residences of the port authorities and have the bribed Civil Guard plant the evidence while they're conducting the investigation. Of course, they won't say no to that. They'll do anything for the right price."

"And what if the port officials tried to bribe their way out of that?" I challenged.

"Then we will tip the press as well about that search." Basilio answered. "The news will be so big and shocking that they will have to incarcerate these bastards at least for a while to avoid a scandal. Besides, no alferez would say no to the praise that shall be heaped upon by the newspapers to him after that bust and the newspaper publishers would not say no to a story that juicy. On top of that, the newspaper companies' interests are not aligned with that of the current Captain-General, so they'll use every single bit of information they have to hurt his reputation."

"Superb assessment of the situation! Old man, I can hug you right now. You, sir, are a devious hijo de puta." I exclaimed with joy.

"Why, thank you for the compliment, my faithful Sancho Panza." he retorted with an amused smile. "That takes care of it, I suppose. Anything else we might be missing?"

"A minor one. The birthday celebration at San Diego. I believe we haven't any presents to give to the celebrant yet." I said.

"Is that so? Well, let us commission an artisan to make a wooden dummy gun immediately then - just like you've suggested. We still have at least ten days before we depart for San Diego."

"Ahh, it's so unoriginal! I don't think the kid would appreciate something like that." I commented.

"I wasn't aware that you were a virtuoso of pleasantries, Isagani." Basilio mocked. "We haven't the time to spare for such trifles. We give what we can for the sake of formality and be done with it. But don't worry. I'll order a wooden revolver, one with an actual rotating chamber since you seem so keen on acting like his father. Does that sound good to you, lover boy?"

"You think that can be done in time?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe? What do we care? I'm warning you Isagani. No funny business with Paulita this time. We're not travelling all the way to San Diego just for that, for fuck's sake. Remember that we are going there to gauge the current political situation and because of a business proposal and I cannot and will not look after you like a kid. I have to deal with this capitan municipal named Florentino dela Peña as well since I am spearheading this project. He is supposed to discuss his proposal for a design he believes that would catch our interests." He then paused to scan around. "Now where did I put that fucking letter?"

"I believe it's placed on top of your bedside table." I told him.

"Oh." Basilio exclaimed as he proceeded to inspect the table and went through all documents searching for the capitan municipal's letter. "I believe he mentioned something like a 'classroom on wheels' in his letter, or at least that's how I remember it presented."

"A mobile classroom, huh? Interesting. I wonder what that would look like." I continued as Basilio went through the small pile of papers looking for the letter. "I would imagine it would be like those huge musical boxes drawn by horses in American town fares, but instead of a musical box it has books and teaching supplies."

"Ahh, yes. I remember he mentioned something similar in his letter." affirmed Basilio. "I believe that's where he got his inspiration for that mobile classroom."

"Fascinating." I complemented.

"Is that so?" Basilio answered with a rather mocking smile. "Isagani complementing a Spaniard? Now that's some news!"

"To him to whom the credit is due." was my soft response. Basilio then pulled out a sheet of paper from his pile. "Aha! Here it is!" he said as he turned up the wick of the lamp near his table and introduced the letter to the light, and began reading (in Spanish):

Most Respectable Messrs. Basilio and Isagani,

It is with great pleasure that I write this letter to the both of you, being the men who I believe who have a great vision for this country. My associates from Spain have always mentioned your noble advocacy in making education accessible to everyone even to the ones who have no money to pay for it - and for that you have my support. I understand how men of your standing value your time more than anything, and for that reason I have tried to make this letter as brief as possible to get right to the point.

I have always believed that the future of this country rests with the young ones, and as such we have been planning to establish schoolhouses for children in Pasig that are run and funded by our local government, but the repulsiveness of the curacy and the people in the higher circles of the government has made it impossible to accomplish despite our sufficient resources and manpower, they, accusing the endeavor as "a waste of space and resources","the building plan is unsafe" or "inappropriate" and some other outlandish and pretentious reasons to veto such a sensible proposal. I believe you understand how our honorable officials work in this country.

Basilio snickered.

"What's funny?" I asked.

"Nothing." Basilio answered, smiling. "I just love how he wrote the word 'honorable' blatantly in bold. He's very honest and direct. I like him already. Anyway, moving on!"

To work around these ridiculous guidelines set by officials and the parochial corporations regarding these schools, I came up with a plan to create a smaller version of the classroom, one that can be set up and broken down anywhere and anytime. It works just like any puppet booth carts you can see in American town fares, but instead of puppets and a small stage, it is equipped with a foldable chalkboard and books and writing materials relevant to the established syllabus. On top of circumnavigating every set 'guidelines', it is significantly cheaper to assemble compared to a classroom, and it can reach out to more children compared to the traditional method due to its mobility. I know this concept may seem strange to you, but it's fair to note that great teachers such as Plato and Jesus Christ have used to teach in public places and the recorded results speak for themselves.

With respect to our aforementioned predicament, on behalf of the municipality of Pasig, I implore you to lend us your support to our project and recommend it to the Captain-General, who I believe has Señor Isagani as his advisor on matters of public works. I know what we're asking might be too much, but we have nobody else to turn to.

P.S. I would be attending the feast in San Diego prepared by our gracious host, Don Timoteo Pelaez and I'm sure respectable persons such as yourselves would be invited there. It would be a delight to meet the both of you in person. If you would so oblige, I'll be more than happy to discuss this matter to you in further detail.

Truly yours,

Florentino dela Peña

"And...that's it." Basilio said as he folded the letter. "What's the matter with you? You seem dumbfounded with disbelief."

"Unbelievable." I sighed. "Public servants like him resorting to such measures just for him to be able to perform his job properly."

"You've been in on our business for ten years and this still surprises you?" Basilio remarked.

"Uhhh...it's not like that. You know what, it seems like talking to these elites burdens you a lot, so I'll do you a favor and talk to him myself. After all, I am in charge of the school projects and I am interested in such unique ideas."

"By all means, my good friend. Talking to these people was never my strongest suit." Basilio answered. "I understand how things like these get you excited, but I implore you to not get carried away too much by this. We are on a tight schedule and we have more important business to attend to in San Diego. Placido will be there as well, so we need to be prepared just in case."

"All right, all right. I get it. I'll have my men scour the town for Placido's spies. Consider it done." I answered with a short laugh before pausing to solemnify the moment. "By the way, have you...uhh...any leads to her case?"

"Leads to what?" he asked.

"To Juli's murder, my man." I replied, slightly annoyed.

He did not answer for about a minute, as he was reaching for the bottle of sherry to refill his glass.

"Nothing of note so far, I'm afraid. No word from my contacts as well. I can't even say if it was actually a murder at this point." Basilio sighed. "T-the accounts of eyewitnesses that day are uniform and compelling, all of them pointing to one thing - Juli did jump off the window of the convento. But I keep asking myself: why would Juli take her own life like that? It doesn't make sense. I tried to ask the eyewitnesses who were in that convento on the day Juli died and they won't answer a damn thing. It's as if their tongues are tied, coerced to make a vow of silence about the matter. You remember that day, don't you? I did the asking three days after we hid Simoun's body and found out about his treasure. The people who were in that convento that day are hiding something, I know it."

"Have you considered asking the witnesses again, Basilio?" I suggested.

"I do. I am gathering as many of them as I can." he replied.

"I suspect a foul play, and I have been telling you this for a long time. It's just too suspicious a suicide. If the witnesses still do not cooperate with you, then I suggest you start asking questions from other people affiliated to her. Friends, relatives or acquaintances who might have known her whereabouts before her death." I suggested. "You mentioned she had an employer before, yes?"

"Yes." he affirmed. "One from which I bought Juli out of servitude. An old lady from Tiani who is called Hermana Penchang."

"Perhaps she knows something. Maybe she can help. Shall I send someone to 'escort' her to us?" I offered.

"No. I'll see to it myself. I'll just drop by her residence and ask some questions - if she's still alive, that is. I want to be subtle about this. Tiani is a few ways away from San Diego, so I don't think it will be much of an inconvenience. I'd rather have your men check on her safety instead. She might give me a good lead. I'll give you the address if you would oblige." he answered. "What about you? Any word around relating to your uncle's case?"

"No. I'm afraid the greater clues elude me." I replied. "However, I did some sleuthing on the report your contact has given about my uncle and I happen to come across a name in a half-charred note addressed to my uncle - that of a man named Perez, I think that was his name. There are sections of that note that were impossible to read, but in it, the words "Spaniard", "hide" and "arrest" caught my attention. I'm suspecting that 'the Spaniard' he is talking about is Simoun, because the bastard was being actively pursued by the Civil Guard at the time. Perez must have warned my uncle to burn the note to avoid implicating themselves to the conspiracy, which, apparently, my uncle did not - or at least failed to do so."

"Very plausible theory." Basilio commended. "But does it not occur to you that 'the Spaniard' could also mean Don Tiburcio, you know? He IS a Spaniard, after all. Your uncle may have had the misfortune of being caught in the crossfire between two...lovers."

"It is unlikely that Doña Victorina knows of her old husband's whereabouts. I noticed that she didn't put too much effort into it, almost completely relying on me to find her husband, so I am not really confident in that possibility. But who knows? However, one thing is clear - I need to find Perez. He may know something about my uncle's death and give us some answers. Judging by the state of the note when it was found, I'm assuming that Perez would be in hiding, if he's lucky enough to not be killed."

"I see. Good enough." Basilio remarked. "We can talk about this further tomorrow. For now I need to rest. The day's events were quite a handful to say the least.