detailed the precautions she took to ensure that no one’s medical details became known before they had signed a release.

He expected Quinn to cross-examine her and try to show that there was a minuscule chance that confidential information would be revealed by accident. Steve and Jeannie had rehearsed this last night, with him playing the role of prosecution lawyer. But to his surprise Quinn did not have any questions. Was he afraid she would defend herself too ably? Or was he confident he had the verdict sewn up?

Quinn summed up first. He repeated much of Berrington’s evidence, once again being more tedious than Steve thought wise. His concluding speech was short enough, however. “This is a crisis that should never have happened,” he said. “The university authorities behaved judiciously throughout. It was Dr. Ferrami’s impetuousness and intransigence that caused all the drama. Of course she has a contract, and that contract governs her relations with her employer. But senior faculty are, after all, required to supervise junior faculty; and junior faculty, if they have any sense at all, will listen to wise counsel from those older and more experienced than they. Dr Ferrami’s stubborn defiance turned a problem into a crisis, and the only solution to the crisis is for her to leave the university.” He sat down.

It was time for Steve’s speech. He had been rehearsing it all night. He stood up.

“What is Jones Falls University for?”

He paused for dramatic effect.

“The answer may be expressed in one word: knowledge. If we wanted a nutshell definition of the role of the university in American society, we might say its function is to seek knowledge and to spread knowledge.”

He looked at each of the committee, inviting their agreement. Jane Edelsborough nodded. The others were impassive.

He resumed: “Now and again, that function comes under attack. There are always people who want to hide the truth, for one reason or another: political motives, religious prejudice”—he looked at Berrington—“or commercial advantage. I think everyone here would agree that the school’s intellectual independence is crucial to its reputation. That independence has to be balanced against other obligations, obviously, such as the need to respect the civil rights of individuals. However, a vigorous defense of the university’s right to pursue knowledge would enhance its reputation among all thinking people.”

He waved a hand to indicate the university. “Jones Falls is important to everyone here. The reputation of an academic may rise and fall with that of the institution where he or she works. I ask you to think about the effect your verdict will have on the reputation of JFU as a free, independent academic institution. Will the university be cowed by the intellectually shallow assault of a daily newspaper? Will a program of scientific research be canceled for the sake of a commercial takeover bid? I hope not. I hope the committee will bolster JFU’s reputation by showing that what matters here is one simple value: truth.” He looked at them, letting his words sink in. He could not tell, from their expressions, whether his speech had touched them or not. After a moment he sat down.

“Thank you,” said Jack Budgen. “Would everyone except committee members step outside while we deliberate, please?”

Steve held the door for Jeannie and followed her into the hallway. They left the building and stood in the shade of a tree. Jeannie was pale with tension. “What do you think?” she said.

“We have to win,” he said. “We’re right.”

“What am I going to do if we lose?” she said. “Move to Nebraska? Get a job as a schoolteacher? Become a stewardess, like Penny Watermeadow?”

“Who’s Penny Watermeadow?”

Before she could answer him, she saw something over his shoulder that made her hesitate. Steve turned around and saw Henry Quinn, smoking a cigarette. “You were very sharp in there,” Quinn said. “I hope you won’t think me condescending if I say I enjoyed matching wits with you.”

Jeannie made a disgusted noise and turned away.

Steve was able to be more detached. Lawyers were supposed to be like this, friendly with their opponents outside the courtroom. Besides, one day he might find himself asking Quinn for a job. “Thank you,” he said politely.

“You certainly had the best of the arguments,” Quinn went on, surprising Steve by his frankness. “On the other hand, in a case like this people vote their self-interest, and all those committee members are senior professors. They’ll find it hard to support a youngster against someone of their own group, regardless of the arguments.”

“They are all intellectuals,” Steve said. “They’re committed to rationality.”

Quinn nodded. “You might be right,” he said. He gave Steve a speculative look then said: “Have you any idea what this is really about?”

“What do you mean?” Steve said cautiously.

“Berrington is obviously terrified of something, and it isn’t bad publicity. I wondered if you and Dr. Ferrami might know what.”

“I believe we do,” Steve said. “But we can’t prove it, yet.”

“Keep trying,” Quinn said. He dropped his cigarette and stepped on it. “God forbid that Jim Proust should be president.” He turned away.

What about that, Steve thought; a closet liberal.

Jack Budgen appeared in the entrance and made a summoning gesture. Steve took Jeannie’s arm and they went back in.

He studied the faces of the committee. Jack Budgen met his eye. Jane Edelsborough gave him a little smile.

That was a good sign. His hopes soared.

They all sat down.

Jack Budgen shuffled his papers unnecessarily. “We thank both parties for enabling this hearing to be conducted with dignity.” He paused solemnly. “Our decision is unanimous. We recommend to the senate of this university that Dr. Jean Ferrami be dismissed. Thank you.”

Jeannie buried her head in her hands.

40

WHEN AT LAST JEANNIE WAS ALONE, SHE THREW HERSELF ON her bed and cried.

She cried for a long time. She pounded her pillows, shouted at the wall, and uttered the filthiest words she knew; then she buried her face in the quilt and cried some more. Her sheets were wet with tears and streaked black with mascara.

After a while she got up and washed her face and put coffee on. “It’s not like you’ve got cancer,” she said to herself. “Come on, shape up.” But it was hard. She was not going to die, okay, but she had lost everything she lived for.

She thought of herself at twenty-one. She had graduated summa cum laude and won the Mayfair Lites Challenge in the same year. She saw herself on the court, holding the cup high in the traditional gesture of triumph. The world had been at her feet. When she looked back she felt as if a different person had held up that trophy.

She sat on the couch drinking coffee. Her father, that old bastard, had stolen her TV, so she could not even watch dumbsoap operas to take her mind off her misery. She would have pigged out on chocolate if she had any. She thought of booze but decided it would make her more depressed. Shopping? She would probably burst into tears in the fitting room, and anyway she was now even more broke than before.

At around two o’clock the phone rang.

Jeannie ignored it.

However, the caller was persistent, and she got fed up with listening to the ring, so in the end she picked it up.

It was Steve. After the hearing he had gone back to Washington for a meeting with his lawyer. “I’m at the law office now,” he said. “We want you to take legal action against Jones Falls for recovery of your FBI list. My family will pay the costs. They think it will be worth it for the chance of finding the third twin.”

Вы читаете the Third Twin (1996)
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