JONATHAN KELLERMAN. A COLD HEART

I said, “You were forced to hire Shull?”

“ ‘Forced’ would be too . . . coarse a word.” She looked as if she’d swallowed something spoiled. “I was strongly advised to hire Gordon.”

“Because his family’s got money.”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “It’s always about money, isn’t it? Six years ago, I was brought to Charter College to create a first-rate department of communications. Promises were made to me. I had several other offers—larger schools, better facilities. But all were in other cities, and I’d just met Vernon and his practice was established here. I chose romance over practicality.” Small smile. “The right choice, but . . . there are consequences to any decision.”

“Charter broke its promise,” I said.

“Broken promises are a given in the academic world. The issue is the proportion of truth to nonsense. Don’t get me wrong. For the most part, I’m not miserable. Charter’s a good school. For what it is.”

“Which is . . .”

“A small place. A very small place. That affords one the opportunity to interact with students closely, which was initially appealing and still is. All in all, the kids are a nice bunch. After five years at Berkeley, all the left-wing nonsense, Charter seemed positively quaint. But sometimes it’s limiting.”

“Which promises were broken?” I said.

She ticked her finger. “I was pledged a five-person faculty and got three; my budget was cut by thirty percent because several pledges dried up—the recession was in full force back then, donors’ stock portfolios had tumbled, et cetera. My planned curriculum was severely attenuated, because I now had a smaller faculty.”

“Which promises did they keep?”

“I got a nice desk.” She smiled. “I could’ve walked. Vernon’s practice is more than adequate in terms of financial support. But I didn’t go to school for twenty-three years in order to play golf and have my nails done. So I resolved to make the best of the situation and set about enjoying the one thing they hadn’t reneged on: ‘wide latitude’ in hiring faculty. I was fortunate to snag Susan Santorini because she, too, wanted to remain in Southern California, her partner’s a film agent. Then I set about finding the third member of our tight little group and was informed by the dean that a strong candidate had come up and that I was highly advised to look favorably upon his application.”

She touched a pearl earring. “Gordon Shull is a joke. However, his stepfather is one of our wealthiest alumni. Gordon’s an alumnus, as well.”

“A joke in terms of scholarship?” I said.

“A joke, period. When his application came across my desk and I noted that he’d graduated from Charter, I got hold of his undergrad transcripts.”

“Suspicious?”

She smiled. “I was rather displeased to be advised. When I read the transcript, my displeasure turned to wrath. To say Gordon had been an undistinguished student would have been too kind. He was on academic probation several semesters, put together a C-minus average by taking Mickey Mouse courses, took five years to graduate. Somehow along the line, he managed to get himself a master’s.” Her lips curled. “I got my doctorate at Berkeley, did a postdoc at London University, and another at Columbia. Susan Santorini’s doctorate is from Columbia, she taught in Florence, Italy, and at Cornell before I snagged her. The way the job market for academics is running, we could’ve had our pick of bright Ph.D.s from top places. Instead, we were forced to occupy the same intellectual space as that clown.”

“Which helps the budget,” I said.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Every year the department receives a check from The Trueblood Endowment—the stepfather’s foundation. Just enough to keep us . . . motivated.”

“Academic stranglehold,” said Milo.

“Very well put, Detective. And, truth be told, your visit tonight may very well have crystallized things for me. If Gordon’s transgressions have stretched beyond my wildest imagination, I may finally have to make some serious life choices. But before I tell you more, I need one thing: You must keep me informed, provide me enough lead time so I can take my leave well before the storm and thus avoid embroiling myself in criminal-legal matters.”

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