the Third Twin (1996)

Steve shook his head in dismay. “The stakes keep getting higher,” he said. “If we break the true story of Genetico, and the takeover bid is canceled, Jim Proust won’t be able to payfor a presidential campaign. And Proust is a serious bad guy: a spook, ex-CIA, against gun control, everything. You’re standing in the way of some dangerous people, Jeannie.”

She gritted her teeth. “That makes them all the more worth fighting against. I was raised on welfare, Steve. If Proust becomes president, girls like me will always be hairdressers.”

39

THERE WAS A SMALL DEMONSTRATION OUTSIDE HILLSIDE Hall, the administrative office building of Jones Falls University. Thirty or forty students, mostly women, stood in a cluster in front of the steps. It was a quiet, disciplined protest. Getting closer, Steve read a banner:

Reinstate Ferrami Now!

It seemed like a good omen to him. “They’re supporting you,” he said to Jeannie.

She looked closer, and a flush of pleasure spread across her face. “So they are. My God, someone loves me after all.”

Another placard read:

U

can’t do

this to

JF

A cheer went up when they spotted Jeannie. She went over to them, smiling. Steve followed, proud of her. Not every professor would get such spontaneous support from students. She shook hands with the men and kissed the women. Steve noticed a pretty blond woman staring at him.

Jeannie hugged an older woman in the crowd. “Sophie!” she said. “What can I say?”

“Good luck in there,” the woman said.

Jeannie detached herself from the crowd, beaming, and they walked toward the building. He said: “Well, they think you should keep your job.”

“I can’t tell you how much that means to me,” she said, “That older woman is Sophie Chapple, a professor in the psychology department. I thought she hated me. I can’t believe she’s standing up for me.”

“Who was the pretty girl at the front?”

Jeannie gave him a curious look. “You don’t recognize her?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen her before, but she couldn’t take her eyes off me.” Then he guessed. “Oh, my God, it must be the victim.”

“Lisa Hoxton.”

“No wonder she stared.” He could not help glancing back. She was a pretty, lively-looking girl, small and rather plump. His double had attacked her and thrown her to the floor and forced her to have sex. A small knot of disgust twisted inside Steve. She was just an ordinary young woman, and now she had a nightmare memory that would haunt her all her life.

The administrative building was a grand old house. Jeannie led him across the marbled hall and through a door marked Old Dining Room into a gloomy chamber in the baronial style: high ceiling, narrow Gothic windows, and thick-legged oak furniture. A long table stood in front of a carved stone fireplace.

Four men and a middle-aged woman sat along one side of the table. Steve recognized the bald man in the middle as Jeannie’s tennis opponent, Jack Budgen. This was the committee, he presumed: the group that held Jeannie’s fate in its hands. He took a deep breath.

Leaning over the table, he shook Jack Budgen’s hand and said: “Good morning, Dr. Budgen. I’m Steven Logan. Wespoke yesterday.” Some instinct took over and he found himself exuding a relaxed confidence that was the opposite of what he felt. He shook hands with each of the committee members, and they told him their names.

Two more men sat on the near side of the table, at the far end. The little guy in the navy vested suit was 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.”