“No,” Julia interrupted. “I meant the last part. You said that
Gabriel isn’t coming in anymore?”
Nicole froze. “Um, that was very unprofessional of me. I shouldn’t speak to you about another client and his counselor.”
“When did he stop seeing Winston?”
“I really can’t say.” Nicole shifted in her seat. “Now, we should
probably discuss some ways in which you can deal with stress before your meeting tomorrow…” P
The Dean of Graduate Studies favored formality and refinement.
For these reasons, he always conducted meetings in a large, wood-
paneled conference room adjacent to his office on St. George Street.
Professor Jeremy Martin, the Chair of Italian Studies, sat at his right in a large, high-backed chair that was vaguely medieval in style, behind an imposing, dark wood table that ran almost the width of the room.
Two small folding chairs were centered before the table, and
that is where Soraya and her client sat most uncomfortably at the
beginning of their meeting.
“A moment for introductions.” The Dean’s rich, baritone voice
rang out in the room.
“Miss Julianne Mitchell?”
Julia nodded, but said nothing.
“And who is your representative?” His pale, cold blue eyes gave
away nothing, but it was clear that he recognized the dark haired
woman at Julia’s left.
“Soraya Harandi, Dr. Aras. I will be representing Miss Mitchell.”
“Is there a reason why Miss Mitchell has elected to bring an at-
torney to this informal meeting?” It was clear that he was already irritated.
“Why, Dr. Aras, my client was simply following your instructions.
You suggested she retain a lawyer in your letter.” Soraya’s voice was deceptively sweet.
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David resisted the urge to growl at her, for he did not like being made a fool. He gestured to the man beside him. “This is Professor Martin.”
Julia took a moment to appraise the Chair’s appearance. She knew
that he would be meeting with Gabriel to discuss Christa’s harass-
ment complaint after this meeting concluded. She tried very hard
to discern his disposition but found herself puzzled. His demeanor was decidedly neutral, at least toward her.
The Dean cleared his throat. “We have received a very serious
complaint about you, Miss Mitchell. Our purpose in inviting you
to speak to us today is solely for information purposes as we begin our investigation. We will ask a few questions, then you will have the opportunity to ask questions of us. I hope the meeting will terminate in about thirty minutes.”
Julia inhaled slowly, watching him and waiting.
“Are you having a romantic relationship with Professor Gabriel
Emerson?”
Julia’s eyes bugged out of her head, and her jaw dropped open.
Before she could speak, Soraya jumped in.
“My client will not answer any questions until the substance of the complaint is revealed. The letter was understandably vague, given the policies of the university, but you have passed the point of vagueness with that question. Exactly what is the complaint against my client, what is the evidence for the complaint, and who is the complainant?”
David tapped a finger at the glass water pitcher in front of him,
making the slices of lemon dance to his drumming.
“That is not how these meetings work. I am the Dean. I ask the
questions.”
“Dr. Aras…” Soraya’s voice took on an almost patronizing tone.
“We both know that the policies and procedures assumed by the
university are governed by the principles of natural justice. My client deserves to know the specifics of the complaint, the nature and scope of the evidence against her, if any, and the identity of the complainant before she answers any questions. Otherwise, this is an unjust proceeding and I will have no choice but to file a complaint to that effect. Immediately.”
“I have to agree with Miss Harandi,” said Professor Martin quietly.
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Sylvain Reynard
David gave Jeremy an annoyed look out of the corner of his eye.
“Very well. An allegation of graduate student misconduct reached
our office concerning your client. It was alleged that she entered into a sexual relationship with one of her professors for the purpose of procuring academic favors.”
Julia’s eyes grew wide and round.
Soraya laughed. Loudly. “This is a farce. My client is an extremely talented student who was recently offered an early acceptance to
Harvard, as you well know.” She nodded in Professor Martin’s direction. “My client doesn’t need to prostitute herself.”
“The allegation is not without precedent at this institution, Miss Harandi. And we take all complaints seriously, as dictated by our
policies.”
“Then why isn’t the complaint being processed as a sexual harass-
ment case? Surely, if a student initiates a transaction in which favors are exchanged for sex it would count as sexual harassment?”
“That avenue of inquiry is also being explored,” David snapped.
Soraya chuckled. “Fine, fine. What are the alleged favors?”
“A high mark in a seminar in which the professor was the instruc-
tor, financial payments in the form of a bursary, and the procurement of an established, retired scholar to direct Miss Mitchell’s thesis.”
Soraya waved a dismissive hand, almost yawning in boredom. “I
reiterate the fact that my client’s academic merits speak for themselves.
And who, pray tell, is the unfortunate professor?”
David watched Julia closely. “Gabriel Emerson.”
Soraya smiled widely. “Your complainant has a wild imagination.
He or she must be majoring in fiction. Did Professor Emerson file
the complaint?”
Julia held her breath, horrified, as she waited for David’s answer.
He tapped the papers in front of him with the end of his pen.
“No, he did not.”
“Well, what was his testimony when you spoke with him?”
“We intend to speak with Professor Emerson once we have gath-
ered more information. Our protocols dictate that faculty members
who are a party to a complaint are brought in last, not first.” Professor Martin spoke for the first time, his voice firm but calm.
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Gabriel’s Rapture
Soraya fixed him with a stern eye. “So in the hierarchy of the
university, female graduate students are preyed upon first? And only afterward the professor, whose testimony could exonerate her, is
approached? I’m shocked that you would drag my client in here
without the courtesy of even attempting to speak to the other person involved. This entire matter could have been put to rest with two
telephone calls. This is a disgrace.”
David began to protest but Soraya interrupted him again. “Before
we end this meeting, who is the complainant?”
“The complainant is a person who I believe is known to Miss
Mitchell. Her name is Christa Peterson.”
Soraya received the news impassively, but Julia’s eyes flew to
Professor Martin’s. It was one quick movement, but he noticed it
and stared straight back at her with knitted brows.
Blushing, she looked down at her hands.
David held up two pieces of paper.
“Based upon our preliminary investigation, it seems that Professor Emerson awarded a very high mark to Miss Mitchell in his graduate
seminar. She was awarded the M. P. Emerson bursary, which was
mysteriously donated by an American foundation after Miss Mitchell began the program. And Professor Martin has provided me with Miss
Mitchell’s academic file, in which it shows that Katherine Picton
was approached by Professor Emerson last semester to replace him
as Miss Mitchell’s thesis supervisor.”
He passed a file over to Soraya.
“As you will see, Miss Harandi, that file contains additional evi-
dence provided by Miss Peterson. It includes a series of photographs and news clippings from a Florentine newspaper showing Miss Mitchell and Professor Emerson at a public event in Italy, where Professor Emerson is quoted as saying that Miss Mitchell is his fiancée.
“And there is a sworn statement by an employee of a local club
who claims to possess security videos that show personal interactions between Miss Mitchell and Professor Emerson at that club during
the time that she was his student. These interactions appear to be of an intimate nature and certainly go well beyond the appropriate boundaries of a professional relationship.”
He paused for effect. “It’s possible that the evidence provided by the complainant could be proof of more than one infraction. So for 185
Sylvain Reynard
this reason, we are eager to hear Miss Mitchell’s side of the story. So I ask you again, did you receive special academic favors from your professor because of your personal relationship with him?”
“Dr. Aras, I am astonished that a man of your stature would be
persuaded to give credence to a complaint that not only strains credulity but is supported by the very flimsiest of evidence. Newspaper clippings from an Italian tabloid? Videos that cannot be authenti-cated? There is no prima facie case. None whatsoever.”
“Don’t question my competency, Miss Harandi.” The Dean’s swift
temper got the best of him. “I’ve been working in higher education since you were in kindergarten.”
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