Gabriel's Inferno Trilogy

by Sylvain Reynard

  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 harassment 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 instructor, 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 gathered 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.

  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 evidence 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 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 authenticated? 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.”

  Soraya raised her eyebrows at him and closed the file ceremoniously, tossing it onto his desk.

  “What kind of interest does the complainant have in making such an allegation?”

  David glared.

  Soraya looked from the Dean to the chair and back again. “Perhaps the complainant’s true target is Professor Emerson. Why am I suddenly getting the impression that my client is collateral damage?”

  “Any other matters are outside your purview, Miss Harandi.” The Dean’s chin began to wobble. “Even if this office would prefer to ignore the supporting information filed with the complaint, we can’t. The newspaper article demonstrates that Miss Mitchell and Professor Emerson were romantically linked only days after the end of the semester. It appears to demonstrate the existence of a prior inappropriate relationship, if nothing else.”

  “I can’t believe you summoned my client to listen to these bizarre accusations. The complainant is clearly unstable and living in a fantasy world. If she has an issue with Professor Emerson, she needs to pursue a complaint against him, not my client. Given what I have seen here today, I will advise my client that she is well within her rights to file a harassment complaint against Miss Peterson and to see that she is investigated for making a fraudulent and defamatory charge.”

  The Dean cleared his throat noisily. “If your position is such that Miss Mitchell and Professor Emerson engaged in a consensual relationship, I will gladly make note of such a declaration and we can dispense with the charade. When did this consensual relationship begin?”

  “The only charade is the one your office is performing, in which you attempt to appear to be investigating an academic infraction but rather are engaging in some kind of prurient sexual McCarthyism. This meeting is over.” Soraya closed her briefcase dramatically and stood to her feet.

  “Just a minute, Miss Harandi. If you had troubled yourself to take a closer look at Miss Mitchell’s academic file, you’d have seen a form signed by Professor Picton and dated in October, declaring that she would be supervising Miss Mitchell’s thesis because Professor Emerson had a conflict of interest. What reason would he have to approach Professor Picton other than giving Miss Mitchell what she wanted? What kind of conflict of interest could there be, other than an inappropriate relationship?”

  Julia opened her mouth to answer him, to reveal the fact that she had known Gabriel since she was a teenager, but Soraya grabbed her forearm in a death grip.

  “You sound as if you have already taken a position on the complaint, Dr. Aras. Perhaps your letter would have been less disingenuous if you had stated that your true purpose in this meeting was to poison the well against my client so you could punish her.”

  The Dean appeared to swallow his growing anger. He gestured to the paperwork in front of him. “The complaint alleges that academic favors were granted to Miss Mitchell for reasons other than academic performance.

  “The complainant testifies that Professor Emerson and Miss Mitchell engaged in a lover’s quarrel in front of a room full of witnesses during one of his seminars. Shortly after that embarrassing public display, Professor Picton signed the paperwork that allowed her to become Miss Mitchell’s thesis advisor. Quid p
ro quo. Quod erat demonstrandum.”

  “Nemo me impune lacessit, Dr. Aras.” Soraya smiled at Professor Martin, before turning a stony gaze in David’s direction. “I started studying Latin when I was in kindergarten.

  “The complaint is malicious and false. If the Provost decides to lay charges on the basis of this complaint, I will pursue other avenues of remedy against the complainant and this office.”

  Julia watched as the Dean gripped his pen rather tightly. “Are you sure this is the position you wish to take, Miss Mitchell? An argument for leniency can be made if you cooperate.”

  “You’ve basically called my client a whore and accused her of sleeping with a professor to gain a preferment. I don’t need to remind you of the laws regarding defamation of character. I believe we found ourselves in a similar situation last year. We don’t give in to threats.”

  “We do not threaten, we adjudicate. We will be interviewing witnesses and other relevant parties and then we will repeat this conversation. Jeremy, have you any further comments or questions?”

  Professor Martin measured Julianne with his gaze, then shook his head dispassionately.

  The Dean closed his file. “Since you refuse to answer my questions, Miss Mitchell, you are dismissed.”

  Soraya nodded at the two men and escorted Julia out of the room.

  Chapter 21

  “That meeting was a confederacy of dunces,” announced Soraya, leaning against the banquette in the bar of the Windsor Arms Hotel.

  Julia nodded, wondering if she was Ignatius Reilly, the protagonist of that book, or whether Gabriel was Ignatius and she was Myrna Minkoff.

  The bartender delivered their martinis with a smile and a few dishes of tapas, “on the house.” He winked at Soraya, who was a regular, and returned to the bar.

  She took a long sip of her drink and settled herself in her seat. “My advice is to file a harassment complaint against Christa Peterson, citing malicious intent, as soon as possible. There are provisions in the university’s academic policies that are supposed to protect students from fraudulent accusations.”

  “I’m not sure I want to antagonize her.”

  Soraya laughed darkly. “What more could she do to you? Boil your bunny?”

  Julia cringed.

  “Listen, a complaint against her would be a shot across the bow. We don’t have to follow through on it, but it would give her and the Dean something to think about. You told me that she accused Gabriel of sexual harassment. Don’t you want to strike back?”

  “I want all of this to end. I don’t understand how she can file a complaint against me when my situation has nothing to do with her.”

  “Based upon what we learned today, I think it’s pretty clear what she’s doing. She accused you of sleeping your way to the top, and she accused your boyfriend of trying to make the same arrangement with her. It’s clever, really, because she doesn’t need her complaints to be successful in order to take both of you out at the same time.”

  Julia blanched. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s forcing you into admitting that you had a relationship with your professor. Then the university can hit you and him with a fraternization charge. She’s either brilliant or she’s had some coaching.”

  Julia traced a finger up and down the side of her martini glass, fighting the urge to be sick.

  Soraya sipped her cocktail once more. “I need you to make a list of people the Dean might interview and anything they might say that would be damaging. The evidence he has is slight, but if you put it all together, it could be enough to convince a tribunal that Gabriel gifted you with favors because of your relationship.”

  Julia began sawing on her lower lip with her teeth.

  “Don’t worry, yet. Let’s focus on beating this complaint and worry about everything else later. The administration is very cautious when it comes to matters involving faculty members because of their union. The university will continue the investigation until they’re sure, and then they’ll pounce.

  “In the meantime, let me file a complaint against this Christa Peterson character. From now on, you and Gabriel need to stay out of the public eye. David will be investigating both of you this week, and we should assume he’ll interview everyone who has come in contact with both of you.”

  Julia shook her head, a wave of nausea crashing over her as she thought of other faculty and students from the department being asked to give testimony in front of the Dean.

  “All right, Soraya. File the complaint. I don’t think it will accomplish anything other than to antagonize her, but you’re the lawyer.”

  “Excellent.” Soraya smiled widely and downed the rest of her dirty martini.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon Julia was exiting the elevator on Gabriel’s floor. She passed his French Canadian neighbor as she walked down the long hallway, and they exchanged a brief but friendly nod. Then she let herself in with her key.

  “Julianne? Is that you?”

  “Yes. How was your meeting with the Chair?” She quickly removed her coat and boots and was ready to walk into the living room when Gabriel met her in the front hall.

  “I want to hear about your meeting first.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  “They asked me a few questions and let me go.”

  He let out an expletive and pulled her into his arms. “If anything ever happened to you…”

  She returned his embrace, exhaling slowly against his dress shirt. “It was Christa Peterson.”

  “What?” He pulled back so he could see her face.

  “Christa accused me of exchanging sexual favors with you for academic benefits.”

  “What?”

  While Julia hurriedly described the nature of the complaint and David and Soraya’s exchanges, Gabriel’s expression grew darker and more dangerous. When she quoted David’s final words, he took a large step away from her.

  He reared back and thrust his fist through the wall. Then, for good measure, he withdrew, dragging fragments of plaster and dust with him, before punching through the wall twice more in rapid succession.

  Julia stood, open-mouthed, as Gabriel trembled before her, eyes closed and chest heaving. Part of her wanted to run, but she found herself rooted to the spot.

  No matter how much she wanted to run at that moment, the sight of a few drops of blood dripping from his knuckles and onto the hardwood floor captured her attention.

  “What have you done to yourself?” She looked up into his blazing eyes and pulled him toward the guest washroom. “Sit down.” Once he was situated, she examined his knuckles and found the skin had split in more than one place.

  “You might need stitches,” she said. “I’m worried you’ve broken something.”

  Gabriel opened and closed his hand several times, wordlessly demonstrating that his hand wasn’t broken.

  “I think you should have an x-ray, just in case.”

  His only response was to rub at his eyes with his uninjured hand and heave a deep, shuddering sigh.

  She opened the medicine cabinet and removed a few first aid items. “I’ll try to clean this, but you should go to the hospital.”

  “I’ll be fine.” His voice was tight.

  Using tweezers, she removed the bits of plaster from his wounds and cleaned them with iodine. Gabriel barely flinched as she bathed his knuckles, and she noticed that he was shaking, possibly from residual anger.

  “I’m sorry I upset you,” Julia whispered.

  “I nearly brought a wall down, and you’re apologizing to me?”

  “I should have told you when you were sitting down. Or after you’d had a drink.”

  He shook his head. “Then I really would have knocked the wall down. I’m too angry to drink.”

  Julia continued her first aid until the wound was completely clean. When she was finished, she ghosted her lips over his bandaged knuckles. “I’m so sorry.”


  Gabriel caught her hand in his. “Stop it. I seem to remember another time in this washroom when I was the one playing doctor.”

  “I was mortified. I wanted to make a good impression and then I smashed your crystal and sprayed your nice shirt with Chianti.”

  “It was an accident. I had to work up the courage to put iodine on your cuts. I was afraid of hurting you. And that was before I…”

  He closed his eyes and rubbed at them again. “What happened to you today is my fault. I should have protected you.”

  “Gabriel,” Julia said, her voice a warning. She leaned over and took his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. “Don’t. We knew the risks when we got involved. I don’t care what they do to me.” Her voice broke on the words, but she spoke them anyway. “I don’t care about Harvard or my PhD. I don’t want to lose you.”

  A strange fire illuminated Gabriel’s eyes. “Not even Hell could keep me from you,” he whispered.

  The lovers embraced desperately, drawing comfort from each other’s very skin.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened with Professor Martin?”

  Gabriel took Julia’s hand and led her into the master bathroom where he began drawing a bath. “You relax, I’ll talk.”

  “I’m not in the mood for a bubble bath. I kind of feel like taking a crow bar to something.”

  (Something appalling and poorly made. Like domestic beer.)

  “That’s why you need a bubble bath. I have to preserve the walls of my apartment.”

  Julia undressed and settled herself amongst the suds. He regarded her intensely—the way her long hair was pinned up haphazardly on top of her head, the gentle contours of her breasts floating amidst the water like two white, pink tipped lilies, the way she bit at her lip until she realized he was staring at it.

  “Do you remember the first time we bathed together?” she asked as she watched him settle his tall form on a low stool.

  “I’m not likely to forget it.”

  “You were worried I was hurting, and you carried me to the tub.” She smiled shyly. “That was one of the kindest things you’ve ever done for me.”