Quinn asked Berrington: “So how many options faced you at that point?”
“Exactly one. We had to show that we did not sanction invasion of privacy by university researchers. We also needed to demonstrate that we had the authority to enforce our own rules. The way to do that was to fire Dr. Ferrami. There was no alternative.”
“Thank you, Professor,” said Quinn, and he sat down.
Steve felt pessimistic. Quinn was every bit as skillful as expected. Berrington had been dreadfully plausible. He had presented a picture of a reasonable, concerned human being doing his best to deal with a hot-tempered, careless subordinate. It was the more credible for having a lacing of reality: Jeannie
But it was not the truth. That was all Steve had going for him. Jeannie was in the right. He just had to prove it.
Jack Budgen said: “Have you any questions, Mr. Logan?”
“I sure do,” said Steve. He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts.
This was his fantasy. He was not in a courtroom, and he was not even a real lawyer, but he was defending an underdog against the injustice of a mighty institution. The odds were against him, but truth was on his side. It was what he dreamed about.
He stood up and looked hard at Berrington. If Jeannie’s theory was right, the man had to feel strange in this situation. It must be like Dr. Frankenstein being questioned by his monster. Steve wanted to play on that a little, to shake Berrington’s composure, before starting on the material questions.
“You know me, don’t you, Professor?” Steve said.
Berrington looked unnerved. “Ah … I believe we met on Monday, yes.”
“And you know all about me.”
“I … don’t quite follow you.”
“I underwent a day of tests in your laboratory, so you have a great deal of information on me.”
“I see what you mean, yes.”
Berrington looked thoroughly discomfited.
Steve moved behind Jeannie’s chair, so that they would all have to look at her. It was much harder to think evil of someone who returned your gaze with an open, fearless expression.
“Professor, let me begin with the first claim you made, that you intended to seek legal advice after your conversation with Dr. Ferrami on Monday.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t actually see a lawyer.”
“No, I was overtaken by events.”
“You didn’t make an appointment to see a lawyer.”
“There wasn’t time—”
“In the two days between your conversation with Dr. Ferrami and your conversation with Dr. Obeli about the
“No.”
“Nor did you ask around, or speak to any of your colleagues, to find out the name of someone suitable.”
“No.”
“In fact, you’re quite unable to substantiate this claim.”
Berrington smiled confidently. “However, I have a reputation as an honest man.”
“Dr. Ferrami recalls the conversation very vividly.”
“Good.”
“She says you made no mention of legal problems or privacy worries; your only concern was whether the search engine worked.”
“Perhaps she’s forgotten.”
“Or perhaps you’ve misremembered.” Steve felt he had won that point, and he changed tack abruptly. “Did the
“If she did, Dr. Obeli never mentioned it to me.”
“So you didn’t ask.” “No.”
“Did it occur to you to
“I guess I assumed that reporters have their sources.”
“Since Dr. Ferrami hasn’t published anything about this project, the source must have been an individual.”
Berrington hesitated and looked to Quinn for guidance. Quinn stood up. “Sir,” he said, addressing Jack Budgen, “the witness shouldn’t be called upon to speculate.”
Budgen nodded.
Steve said. “But this is an informal hearing—we don’t have to be constrained by rigid courtroom procedure.”
Jane Edelsborough spoke for the first time. “The questions seem interesting and relevant to me, Jack.”
Berrington threw her a black look, and she made a little shrug of apology. It was an intimate exchange, and Steve wondered what the relationship was between those two.
Budgen waited, perhaps hoping another committee member would offer a contrary view so that he could make the decision as chair; but no one else spoke. “All right,” he said after a pause. “Proceed, Mr. Logan.”
Steve could hardly believe he had won their first procedural dispute. The professors did not like a fancy lawyer telling them what was or was not a legitimate line of questioning. His throat was dry with tension. He poured water from a carafe into a glass with a shaky hand.
He took a sip then turned again to Berrington and said: “Ms. Freelander knew more than just the general nature of Dr. Ferrami’s work, didn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“She knew exactly how Dr. Ferrami searched for raised-apart twins by scanning databases. This is a new technique, developed by her, known only to you and a few other colleagues in the psychology department.”
“If you say so.”
“It looks as if her information came from within the department, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe.”
“What motive could a colleague possibly have for creating bad publicity about Dr. Ferrami and her work?”
“I really couldn’t say.”
“But it seems like the doing of a malicious, perhaps jealous, rival—wouldn’t you say?”
“Perhaps.”
Steve nodded in satisfaction. He felt he was getting into the swing of this, developing a rhythm. He began to feel that maybe he
Don’t get complacent, he told himself. Scoring points is not the same as winning the case.
“Let me turn to the second claim you made. When Mr. Quinn asked you if people outside the university had commented on the newspaper story, you replied: “They certainly did.’ Do you want to stick by that assertion?”
“Yes.”
“Exactly how many phone calls did you receive from donors, other than the one from Preston Barck?”
“Well, I spoke with Herb Abrahams—”
Steve could tell he was dissembling. “Pardon me for interrupting you, Professor.” Berrington looked surprised, but he stopped speaking. “Did Mr. Abrahams call you, or vice versa?”
“Uh, I believe I called Herb.”
“We’ll come to that in a moment. First, just tell us how many important donors called
Berrington looked rattled. “I’m not sure anyone called me specifically about that.”
“How many calls did you receive from potential students?”
