Berrington Jones, whom Steve had met last Monday. The thin, sandy-haired man in a charcoal double-breasted pinstripe had to be Henry Quinn. Steve shook hands with both.
Quinn looked at him superciliously and said: “What are your legal qualifications, young man?”
Steve gave him a friendly smile and spoke in a low voice that no one else could hear. “Go fuck yourself, Henry.”
Quinn flinched as if he had been struck, and Steve thought, That will be the last time the old bastard condescends to me.
He held a chair for Jeannie and they both sat down.
“Well, perhaps we should begin,” Jack said. “These proceedings are informal. I believe everyone has received a copy of the rubric, so we know the rules. The charge is laid by Professor Berrington Jones, who proposes that Dr. Jean Ferrami be dismissed because she has brought Jones Falls University into disrepute.”
As Budgen spoke, Steve watched the committee members, looking eagerly for signs of sympathy. He was not reassured. Only the woman, Jane Edelsborough, would look at Jeannie; the others did not meet her eyes. Four against, one in favor, at the start, he thought. It was not good.
Jack said: “Berrington is represented by Mr. Quinn.”
Quinn got to his feet and opened his briefcase. Steve noticed that his fingers were stained yellow from cigarettes. He took out a sheaf of blowup photocopies of the
This simple, effective opening move by Quinn intimidatedSteve. How could he possibly compete with a man who had probably thirty years of courtroom experience? I can’t win this, he thought in a sudden panic.
Quinn began to speak. His voice was dry and precise, with no trace of a local accent. He spoke slowly and pedantically. Steve hoped that might be a mistake with this jury of intellectuals who did not need things spelled out for them in words of one syllable. Quinn summarized the history of the discipline committee and explained its position in the university government. He defined “disrepute” and produced a copy of Jeannie’s employment contract. Steve began to feel better as Quinn droned on.
At last he wound up his preamble and started to question Berrington. He began by asking when Berrington had first heard about Jeannie’s computer search program.
“Last Monday afternoon,” Berrington replied. He recounted the conversation he and Jeannie had had. His story tallied with what Jeannie had told Steve.
Then Berrington said: “As soon as I clearly understood her technique, I told her that in my opinion what she was doing was illegal.”
Jeannie burst out:
Quinn ignored her and asked Berrington: “And what was her reaction?”
“She became very angry—”
“You damn liar!” Jeannie said.
Berrington flushed at this accusation.
Jack Budgen intervened. “Please, no interruptions,” he said.
Steve kept an eye on the committee. They had all looked at Jeannie: they could hardly help it. He put a hand on her arm, as if restraining her.
“He’s telling barefaced lies!” she protested.
“What did you expect?” Steve said in a low voice. “He’s playing hardball.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be,” he said in her ear. “Keep it up. They could see your anger was genuine.”
Berrington went on: “She became petulant, just as she is now. She told me she could do what she liked, she had a contract.”
One of the men on the committee, Tenniel Biddenham, frowned darkly, obviously disliking the idea of a junior member of faculty quoting her contract to her professor. Berrington was clever, Steve realized. He knew how to take a point scored against him and turn it to his advantage.
Quinn asked Berrington: “What did you do?”
“Well, I realized I might be wrong. I’m not a lawyer, so I decided to get legal advice. If my fears were confirmed, I could show her independent proof. But if it turned out that what she was doing was harmless, I could drop the matter without a confrontation.”
“And did you take advice?”
“As things turned out, I was overtaken by events. Before I had a chance to see a lawyer, the
Jeannie whispered: “Bullshit.”
“Are you sure?” Steve asked her.
“Positive.”
He made a note.
“Tell us what happened on Wednesday, please,” Quinn said to Berrington.
“My worst fears came true. The university president, Maurice Obeli, summoned me to his office and asked me to explain why he was getting aggressive phone calls from the press about the research in my department. We drafted a press announcement as a basis for discussion and called in Dr. Ferrami.”
“Jesus Christ!” muttered Jeannie.
Berrington went on: “She refused to talk about the press release. Once again she blew her top, insisted she could do what she liked, and stormed out.”
Steve looked in inquiry at Jeannie. She said in a low voice: “A clever lie. They presented me with the press announcement as a fait accompli.”
Steve nodded, but he decided not to take up this point in cross-examination. The committee would probably feel Jeannie should not have stormed out anyway.
“The reporter told us she had a deadline of noon that day,” Berrington continued smoothly. “Dr. Obeli felt the university had to say something decisive, and I must say I agreed with him one hundred percent.”
“And did your announcement have the effect you hoped for?”
“No. It was a total failure. But that was because it was completely undermined by Dr. Ferrami. She told the reporter that she intended to ignore us and there was nothing we could do about it.”
“Did anyone outside the university comment on the story?”
“They certainly did.”
Something about the way Berrington answered that question rang a warning bell in Steve’s head and he made a note.
“I got a phone call from Preston Barck, the president of Genetico, which is an important donor to the university, and in particular funds the entire twins research program,” Berrington continued. “He was naturally concerned about the way his money was being spent. The article made it look as if the university authorities were impotent. Preston said to me, “Who’s running the damn school, anyway?’ It was very embarrassing.”
“Was that your principal concern? The embarrassment of having been defied by a junior member of the faculty?”
“Certainly not. The main problem was the damage to Jones Falls that would be caused by Dr. Ferrami’s work.”
Nice move, Steve thought. In their hearts all the committee members would hate to be defied by an assistant professor, and Berrington had drawn their sympathy. But Quinn had moved quickly to put the whole complaint on a more high-minded level, so that they could tell themselves that by firing Jeannie they would be protecting the university, not just punishing a disobedient subordinate.
Berrington said: “A university should be sensitive to privacy issues. Donors give us money, and students compete for places here, because this is one of the nation’s most venerable educational institutions. The suggestion that we are careless with people’s civil rights is very damaging.”
It was a quietly eloquent formulation, and all the panel would approve. Steve nodded to show that he agreed too, hoping they would notice and conclude that this was not the question at issue.
