Across campus, Meagan, the Dean’s assistant, turned her back on the hearing officers as she prepared to speak more loudly.
“I said that the Dean would like to ask you a few questions about Professor Emerson and Julianne Mitchell. Professor Emerson just confessed to having broken several university policies with respect to her. Can you hold the line, please, while I put you on speaker phone?”
“Holy God,” breathed Jeremy, blinking and gaping like a fish.
“Professor Martin? The hearing officers would like to speak to you now.” Meagan turned and locked eyes with the Dean.
“I’ll be right there. Ask the Dean not to do anything until I arrive!” Jeremy slammed the telephone down on his desk and quickly exited his office, forgetting to close and lock the door behind him. He jogged out of the building and across Queen’s Park, pausing only to avoid being run over by downtown traffic. By the time he’d traversed the few blocks to where the hearing committee sat, he was winded, disheveled, and incredibly annoyed at how out of shape he was.
“Stop,” he panted, bursting through the doors. He placed his hands on his knees so he could attempt to catch his breath.
“Thank you for joining us, Professor Martin.” The Dean’s tone was sarcastic.
“I came—as fast—as I could. What’s—going on?”
The Dean gestured to his assistant to fetch the ailing professor a glass of water, which he drank gratefully. The beverage gave him a moment to find Gabriel, who was sitting stoically next to his lawyer.
The Dean frowned. “It appears that things are amiss in your department. Professor Emerson has just confessed to pursuing Miss Mitchell and engaging in an amorous relationship with her while she was his student. I’d like to know how long you’ve known about this.”
“Excuse me?” Jeremy grabbed a chair and sat on it heavily.
“You told us Professor Emerson disclosed his relationship with Miss Mitchell to you this semester, but that you couldn’t recall when. I’m wondering if you had any inkling that they were involved last semester?”
Jeremy’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I—what?”
“Gabriel Emerson tried to cover up his affair with his student by transferring her thesis supervision and seminar work to Katherine Picton,” Professor Mwangi explained. “What did you know about this and when?”
Jeremy’s expression grew grim. “With respect, am I on trial here or is Gabriel? I was told that you wanted to ask me questions about a matter arising between Gabriel and Miss Mitchell. I was offered no indication that I was under suspicion, otherwise I would have informed the Faculty Association and brought my union representative.”
Professor Mwangi abruptly closed his mouth.
“Jeremy, there’s no need to be defensive. We’re simply interested in whether or not you can shed any light on the account Professor Emerson has offered us. That’s all.” The Dean offered a withering look in Robert’s direction.
“We can return to the question of the timeline in a moment. I’m interested in an email that Miss Mitchell sent to Professor Emerson in which she accused him of harassment and told him that she would be returning the M. P. Emerson bursary. What can you tell us about that?”
Jeremy’s eyes slid over to Gabriel’s.
He had no idea why Gabriel had confessed; it didn’t make sense. He was far more likely to avoid any kind of discipline if he said nothing. Having confessed, he’d handed his career to the Dean in an act that could only be described as academic hara-kiri. Moreover, he’d implicated Jeremy with his confession, and that was something he did not appreciate, not one bit.
“I know of no such harassment. In my position as Chair of Italian Studies, I have a spotless record of upholding university policies.” He glanced in Meagan’s direction. “And I’d like my administrative record to be included as part of this proceeding.”
The Dean waved a hand at his assistant, acquiescing to Jeremy’s demand.
He looked at the hearing officers. “Has Miss Mitchell filed a harassment complaint?”
The hearing officers shook their heads.
“May I see the email?”
The Dean nodded to Meagan, and she quickly passed a piece of paper to Jeremy.
He used this opportunity to buy some time for his over-wrought brain, hoping to get some clue from Gabriel’s body language as to what the devil he’d been thinking. But still, Gabriel would not look at him, simply sitting stone-faced, clenching his fists.
“Since Miss Mitchell never reported the harassment, I can only infer that she changed her mind. Perhaps she sent the email in haste and repented at leisure. It sounds as if she didn’t hold his behavior against him.” Jeremy handed the paper back to Meagan.
“What do you know about the bursary?” asked Professor Chakravartty.
Jeremy’s eyes flitted to the Dean’s. “I advised the Dean in an email that donor services was approached by a philanthropic organization from the United States, whose name escapes me. The charity wished to bestow a bursary on the top MA student in my department. That’s all I know.”
“What’s the connection between Professor Emerson and the bursary?” asked the Dean.
Jeremy shrugged. “None.”
Professor Mwangi clasped his fingers together on the table in front of him. “I find that difficult to believe. There is a coincidence of name, department, and student. Miss Mitchell seems to have associated the bursary with Professor Emerson—why else would she threaten to return it?”
Jeremy smiled wryly. “Do you remember what life was like when you were a grad student? Living on coffee and ramen noodles and going without sleep? Students engage in all kinds of erratic behavior under those conditions. I’m sure we’ve all seen worse.
“I assure you—” At this, he nodded in Gabriel’s direction. “Professor Emerson had nothing to do with the bursary. I’m the one who awarded it, and I did so based on the fact that Miss Mitchell was the top master’s student admitted into our program. You can speak to Tracy in donor services about the charity that made the donation and you can view her paperwork.”
Gabriel tried very hard to hide his surprise at the fact that his chair was defending him. He fidgeted in his seat, swiping a hand through his hair as he waited to see how the Dean would respond.
“That won’t be necessary.” The Dean took off his glasses and nibbled at one of the ends of the arms thoughtfully. “As you’ve heard, Professor Emerson has confessed, taking upon himself full responsibility for his involvement with Miss Mitchell. By his own admission, he played on her vulnerability, promising her that ‘he would take care’ of their situation. His use of Professor Picton seems to bear that out, as does Miss Mitchell’s nervous behavior during these proceedings.
“Since Professor Emerson was in a position of power over Miss Mitchell, and since more than witness has testified that he was initially very harsh with her, we don’t believe that their relationship was consensual.” At this, his eyes met Professor Chakravartty’s, who nodded triumphantly. “Consequently, we are inclined to excuse her perjury, since it was clearly under duress, and we will dismiss any allegations against her. Unless you can suggest a reason why we shouldn’t.”
Gabriel caught Jeremy’s eye with a stare so sharp, Jeremy almost winced.
“I see no reason why Miss Mitchell should be punished, no.” Jeremy tugged at his shirt collar uncomfortably.
“We will be encouraging Miss Mitchell to consider the possibility of filing a harassment complaint. Having said that, and given the fact that Professor Emerson has been forthcoming, I’m not inclined to drag this matter out. However, I wonder if I should recommend to the Provost that your department be placed under scrutiny. We’re facing a lawsuit from another of your students, Miss Peterson. And Miss Mitchell has filed a harassment complaint against her. That’s several unfortunate events in one semester, Professor Martin. What is going on in your department?” The Dean gave Jeremy a stern look.
He straightened his spine. “I am as surprised and distressed as you are. But surely you can’t blame me for failing to have a prurient interest in the personal lives of those in my department.”
“No, but we expect you to maintain a safe environment for students, especially females.” Professor Chakravartty’s tone was firm and disapproving.
The Dean nodded in her direction. “Nevertheless, I am cognizant of your spotless record and the reputation of your department. So I’d like to ask for your input on what we should do in terms of consequences for these policy violations, and I invite you to meet with us while we discuss it.” The Dean waved Jeremy over.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “Thank you. I’d like a word with Professor Emerson first.”
“His testimony has been minuted. Meagan will provide you with a transcript.”
“Since I am his supervisor, I’d prefer to ask my own questions. I doubt you’d deny me that right, as his Chair.”
The Dean frowned. “Very well. You have five minutes.”
With a nod of his head, Jeremy walked to the door, waiting for Gabriel to join him.