Click. Another female voice: 'Professor Zimberg's office.'
'Professor Zimberg, please.'
'I'm afraid he's out of town, sir.'
I threw out a guess: 'Is he over in Washington?'
....... Who is this, please?'
'Professor Schweitzer, an old colleague. Is Wal-Professor Zimberg at the convention?'
'What convention is that, sir?'
'National Association of Biostatisticians over at the Capital Hilton?
I heard he was going to present some new data on nonparametrics. The study the Ferris Dixon Institute's funding.'
'I'm- The professor should be calling in soon, sir. Why don you give me your number and I'll have him get back to you.
Appreciate the offer,' I said, 'but I'm about to hop on a plane myself. That's why I didn't make the convention. Did the professor write up an abstract on his paper before he left? Something I could read when I get back?'
'You'd have to talk to the professor about that.'
'When do you expect him back?'
Actually,' she said, 'the professor's on sabbatical.'
'No kidding? I didn't hear that.... Well, he's due, isn't he?
Where's he off to?'
'Various places, Professor.
'Schweitzer.'
'Various places, Professor Schweitzer. However, as I said, he does call in frequently. Why don't you give me your number and I'll have him get back to you.'
Repeating, almost word for word, what she'd just said a minute ago. Word for word what another friendly female voice had said, five minutes ago, speaking from the hallowed offices of the Ferris Dixon Institute for Chemical Research.
To hell with Alexander Graham Bell.
I drove back to some hallowed halls I could see and touch.
There was one parking meter free near the university administration building. I went to the registrar's office and asked an Indian clerk in a peach-colored said to look up Dawn Kent Herbert.
'Sorry, sir, we don't give out personal information.'
I flashed my clinical faculty card from the med school across town. 'I don't want anything personal-just need to know in which department she's enrolled. It has to do with a job. Verification of education.'
The clerk read the card, had me repeat Herbert's name, and walked away.
A moment later she returned. 'I show her as a graduate student in the School of Public Health, sir. But her enrollment's been terminated.'
I knew Public Health was in the Health Sciences building, but I'd never actually been there. Shoving more money in the meter, I headed toward south campus, passing the Psych building, where I'd learned to train rats and listen with the third ear, crossing the Science quad, and entering the Center at the west end, near the Dental School.
