Emily said a reluctant goodbye to Luke later that afternoon, feeling she would be so much better able to face the current situation at Bede if she had his strong presence to come home to at the end of each day. Throughout their newly revived relationship, she’d wondered whether she could abandon her Portland life for a life in Stony Beach with Luke without regrets. Now she knew that home was neither at Bede nor at Windy Corner, but wherever Luke might be.
On Monday morning, Emily stopped by Vollum Center in the hope of catching Marguerite in her office so she could beg for computer advice. Marguerite’s office was two doors down from Taylor Curzon’s, and as Emily passed Taylor’s slightly open door she heard a distinctive male voice – Daniel’s. Until a few months ago Emily would never have dreamed of eavesdropping, but her experience as an amateur detective had softened her scruples in that regard. Daniel might be technically an adult, but he was a vulnerable person in a volatile situation and could easily need her help. She paused outside the door, holding her breath.
‘Come on, Daniel,’ Taylor’s voice wheedled sensually. ‘I’m not so repulsive as that, am I? I have a few years on you, yes, but you know what they say about older women. I could teach you things that aren’t on any curriculum.’
‘I didn’t come here for that kind of education,’ Daniel muttered.
At this point Emily had a brainwave which she attributed to either Luke’s influence or a prompting from her guardian angel, because she would never have thought of it on her own. She took out her cell phone and set it to record, as Luke had taught her to do in case she ever needed to. The evidence she was about to obtain might not be admissible in court but it could still be enough to get Taylor sanctioned, or even fired.
‘The best things in life are the ones we don’t plan for.’
Emily could see nothing through the crack of the door, but she heard a loud bump that suggested Daniel had backed into a piece of furniture in trying to escape.
‘Professor, please. I love Svetlana. Even if I did find you attractive, I would still be true to her.’
Taylor’s husky tone took on a harder edge. ‘You can help your precious Svetlana. You can make all her problems disappear – as well as your own.’
Daniel’s voice rang clear and angry. ‘In other words, if I sleep with you, you’ll change her grade and pass me with flying colors. And if I don’t?’
‘Let’s just say … you could both find yourselves out in the cold. In more ways than one.’
Emily jumped back as Daniel swung the door fully open. ‘I’m so glad we understand each other. I’ll see you in hell first.’
He stepped into the hall, slamming the door behind him, and started as he came face-to-face with Emily. ‘Did you hear that?’ he asked her sotto voce. ‘She came out and admitted our grades depend on me sleeping with her.’
‘I not only heard it, I recorded it,’ Emily responded, holding up her phone. ‘We’ve got her now.’
Having assured Daniel that she would take the matter from there, Emily continued down the hall to Marguerite’s office and found her in.
‘We’ve got her, Margot,’ she said without preamble. ‘I’ve just recorded Taylor threatening Daniel with failure for himself as well as Svetlana if he doesn’t sleep with her. Richard can’t weasel out of it now. She’s going down.’
‘Play it,’ Marguerite demanded. When the playback was finished, she nodded sagely. ‘It is true she did not say the actual words of the threat – Daniel said them – but her intention is clear. I believe you are correct. We have her now.’
‘Should we get Svetlana’s father involved?’
Marguerite considered with pursed lips. ‘Perhaps not yet. This is an internal college matter, and Goldstein as a parent should not be involved. If Richard does manage to weasel out, as you put it, and we have to resort to the public courts, that will be the time to bring in a lawyer.’
‘Right. Do you want to take this to Richard, or shall I?’
‘I will do it. He might argue that since you are retiring you have no right to be involved.’
‘OK. I guess I can live without this for a while.’ Emily held out her phone.
‘Mais non, chérie, you will simply email me the file.’
‘Do what with the what?’
Marguerite rolled her eyes and swept the phone from Emily’s hand. After a few mysterious passes of her perfectly manicured fingers, she handed it back. ‘Ma chère amie, when will you join the modern world?’
‘I’ll have you know’ – she opened the padded compartment of her briefcase and pulled out her new laptop – ‘I bought a MacBook on Saturday. And I’m going to take some classes in using it. But I need you to teach me Scrivener. Apple doesn’t cover that.’
Marguerite put a theatrical hand to her brow and reeled back. ‘Je suis époustouflée. Flabbergasted. Emily Cavanaugh with a Mac? Is the world coming to an end?’
‘Ha ha. I finally had to admit that keeping track of a book in progress will be much easier on a computer. Provided figuring out how to use it doesn’t take up more time than it saves.’
‘We are two women très intelligentes. With my help you will be up to speed in no time. But first, we must not lose one moment in getting this recording to Richard.’
Marguerite opened the door and set off to the right toward Richard’s office, while Emily retraced her steps to the left toward Taylor’s door. As she approached she saw an unfamiliar man just leaving the office and heard him say something to Taylor in Russian as he closed the door. She couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like Ne podvedi menya – ‘Do not fail me’. The verb form was familiar and the tone urgent, even threatening.
Emily’s curiosity was piqued. She was almost certain this man had nothing to do with Bede. He appeared to be about her own age – thus too old to be Taylor’s paramour – and his too-bright navy sharkskin suit with its slightly exaggerated cut was something no Bede professor or staff member would be caught dead in. The man’s shaved head and bulky build suggested an underworld enforcer – the Hollywood version, at any rate. Emily had no experience of the real thing.
Her mind flashed back to the almost certainly contraband icon she’d seen in Taylor’s office and made a connection that was hardly warranted by physical evidence but which she was intuitively certain was correct: Taylor was involved with the Russian mafia in importing illegal goods.
Getting Taylor sanctioned for sexual misconduct was one thing; taking on the Russian mafia was quite another. That was a matter for the police. The Russian mafia made the Sicilian version look like schoolyard bullies. Emily filed her speculations away in case they were needed later on, but for now, she told herself no action could be expected of her. After all, she had no real evidence that anything illegal was even happening, let alone that Taylor was directly involved.
She hung back a moment so as not to attract the Russian’s attention, then proceeded down the hall. But as she approached the stairway, she met Saul Goldstein coming up. He scowled at her.
‘I’m sick of this shilly-shallying,’ he said. ‘I’m going to confront your department head and get this thing settled once and for all.’
Emily put out a restraining hand. ‘Just a moment, please, Mr Goldstein. There are developments you need to know about.’ She explained about the recording. ‘Marguerite’s talking to Richard McClintock now. I really think it would be best if you let us handle this as an internal college matter. If we fail, then it will be time for you to get more involved.’
He hmphed. ‘I want to hear this recording for myself. Come along if you like, but I’m going to McClintock’s office.’
It was clear to Emily that there was no way she could stop Goldstein, so she contented herself with saying, ‘Just please promise me you’ll be a silent observer until we see how he reacts. Honestly, getting hostile with him at this stage will only make him more recalcitrant.’
Goldstein hmphed again and marched on down the hall. Emily scurried to get to Richard’s door ahead of him. She could hear Marguerite and Richard talking, so she walked in without bothering to knock.
Richard was holding forth in his best pompous manner. ‘If you think this is going to change anything—’ He broke off, spotting the incomers. ‘What the heck? Emily, could you please mind your own business just this once? And who is this man?’
‘This is Saul Goldstein. His daughter Svetlana is the one Taylor was making threats about. He also happens to be a lawyer.’
At the word ‘lawyer’ Richard’s red face paled, and his tone went from commanding to groveling in nothing flat. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Goldstein. As I was just telling Professor Grenier, we will naturally treat this matter with all the seriousness it deserves. It is an internal college matter, though. No need for you to be involved – either as a parent or as a representative of the law.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ Goldstein growled. ‘If I see appropriate action within the next twenty-four hours, fine. If not …’ He left the rest of the sentence to Richard’s imagination.
Judging by his face, Richard’s imagination supplied the most daunting possible conclusion to Goldstein’s unfinished clause. ‘I assure you I’ll do everything in my power to bring this issue to a satisfactory conclusion for all parties.’ He gave an unconvincing smile.
That was the mother of all diplomatically meaningless remarks. Any conclusion that was satisfactory to the reluctant cooperative of Emily, Marguerite, and Saul Goldstein could hardly be satisfactory to Taylor Curzon.
‘Marguerite, you’ve emailed me that recording? Good. Now if you’ll all excuse me, I think it best that I speak to Professor Curzon in private.’ Richard reached for his desk phone with one hand while waving them all out the door with the other.
With her back to Richard and a significant look at Emily, Marguerite tapped on her phone and then slid it surreptitiously on to a shelf by the door. In a moment Emily felt her own phone vibrate in her pocket.
As soon as they closed the door behind them, Marguerite whispered, ‘Pick up the call but say nothing.’ Emily complied, and Marguerite shooed her and Goldstein into her office. As she pulled the door shut, Emily glimpsed Taylor emerging from her own office and heading across the hall toward Richard’s door.
Marguerite took Emily’s phone from her hand and did something to it. ‘There. I have muted the sound from our end and set it to record the conversation.’ She set the phone on her desk and beckoned the others close. Soon they heard Taylor’s voice, sounding annoyed.
‘What is it, Richard? I do have things to do, you know.’
‘Oh, I think you’ll find this is worth your time, Taylor.’ They heard Emily’s recording playing faintly from Richard’s computer.
‘Where did you get that?’ Taylor’s tone was dismissive, but Emily sensed fear underneath.
‘Never you mind. The point is that it proves you’ve been sexually harassing Daniel Razumov.’
‘It proves no such thing. Daniel said his and Svetlana’s grades depended on his … cooperation. I never did.’
‘Perhaps not, but you strongly implied it. At any rate, Svetlana’s lawyer father seems to think your words are quite clear enough to warrant your dismissal.’
Goldstein’s eyebrows went up and he opened his mouth, presumably to protest that he’d said no such thing – in fact, he hadn’t even heard the recording yet. But Marguerite shushed him with a raised palm.
Taylor’s confident voice wavered slightly. ‘There’s no way this would stand up in court. It was obtained without my consent.’
‘We don’t need it to stand up in court. All we need is for the college disciplinary board to accept it. And given your well-deserved reputation, I don’t think there’s much question that they will. Accept it – and act on it. Your career could be over, Taylor.’
Richard’s tone shifted to one that made Emily’s skin crawl. ‘Of course, there is a way to make this go away.’
Taylor gave a derisive snort. ‘Nice try, Richard. But there is no way you’re ever getting into my bed, threats or no threats. I’ve got something worth two of that.’
‘Wh–what do you mean?’ Emily pictured Richard backing away and Taylor advancing in a travesty of a tango.
‘That last article of yours in the Journal of Modern Literature? I happen to know exactly where you got it. And it certainly wasn’t out of your own feeble little brain.’
‘Nonsense,’ Richard blustered. ‘I dare you to find either the ideas or the words anywhere else, in print or online.’
‘In print or online, no. But on your student Pacifique Morel’s computer, yes. Practically word for word, and file-dated well before your article appeared.’ Emily could almost hear Taylor’s triumphant smile. ‘Pillow talk is a marvelous thing. You should try it sometime. Oh no, I forgot – you have no one to share a pillow with. Nobody will have you, for love, money, or threats. Poor Richard.’
‘You devious bitch,’ Richard hissed. ‘I’ll get you for this. One way or another. Or Goldstein will. Now get out of my office.’
‘Toodle-oo, dearie. Just remember – if I go down, you go down with me.’ They heard footsteps, then the opening and closing of the office door.
Marguerite ended the call and the recording as Goldstein erupted. ‘That spineless slimeball! Now you’ve got to admit it’s time for me to take this into my own hands. I’m going to sue.’
Marguerite and Emily exchanged a defeated glance. ‘You must do as you think best,’ Emily said. ‘And may God have mercy on us all.’