by AnonYMous
‘We did. We went through everything. And I’m afraid I was compelled to be quite severe. At first he denied it all and tried to bluff his way through. He got on his high horse and said he was insulted that his integrity was called into question. But Dorothy wouldn’t have it. She showed him conclusively that there were no such people as Driver and Puttick and Starr and Playright … Playright indeed! Did the man think we were morons?’ Ewing took a long draught of his whisky.
‘Then Brian Senior took over. He’s a lawyer as well as an accountant. He said that the documents of the Quality Control Agency were official. If Pilkington had deliberately falsified the records, he was putting himself in danger of a perjury charge. It wasn’t just a matter of losing his job. It would go far beyond the university.’
‘How did he react to that?’ I asked.
‘He collapsed completely and the whole story came out …’
‘What did he say?’
‘He blamed the previous Vice-Chancellor for everything. Well of course, I could believe that. When Flanagan set up his new degree programmes, he ignored all the established regulations and procedures. Believe it or not, no examiners were ever appointed. Pilkington then said that he was instructed by your Acting Vice-Chancellor to write all the reports himself. Which he did. He said he was only obeying orders.’
‘That isn’t an excuse, as we all know …,’ I said.
‘Indeed it is not. The upshot is that we can’t trust any of the university’s documentation. What it comes down to is that we have no confidence whatever in any of St Sebastian’s quality control procedures. And we are submitting a report saying just that ….’
There was a pause while Ewing took a deep breath. ‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘it’s the worse case we’ve ever come across. Over the last six years, we’ve inspected nearly a hundred and thirty universities and colleges. One hundred and twenty-eight to be precise. The procedures of the vast majority achieved our “Full Confidence”. A sad fourteen were only awarded “Limited Confidence”, but no institution up until now has received the ultimate condemnation of a “No Confidence” verdict. St Sebastian’s will be the very first.’
‘That’s dreadful!’ I did not know what else I could say.
Ewing shook his head. ‘The institution will be given three years to improve. In the meantime, the University Funding Council will be informed of the result.’ He leaned forward. ‘I have to tell you, Harry, they will insist on a full investigation. The Council could shut off funds altogether if it feels the situation is bad enough. Your predicament is dire,’ he concluded. ‘I know you’ve nothing to do with all this. You’ve only just become Provost. But it is your university and it’s in need of urgent attention!’
CHAPTER SEVEN
A Colossal Dolt
My sermon at St Jerome’s seemed to go down quite well and I was given a very nice lunch in the college dining room afterwards. A taxi to the station was ordered for half-past two so I had no trouble catching the three o’clock train. I sat down comfortably in my corner seat and prepared to enjoy the Sunday Times.
We had nearly reached Reading when I was interrupted by my mobile telephone. A text message had arrived. It was from Felix Glass and he wanted me to call him back as soon as possible. As it happened we were going through a series of tunnels. The signal was very bad so it was a little while before I got through. Felix answered on the second ring and he sounded distraught.
‘Harry,’ he said. ‘There’s been a disaster. Yesterday evening the inspection team from the Quality Control Agency sent Sloth an email. He was as hopeless as usual. He didn’t pick it up until this morning. They told him that they were unable to award the university either the Full Confidence or the Limited Confidence classification in their assessment of the university’s procedures. This was because they had No Confidence at all in any of them … Sloth contacted me at lunchtime; he just sent on their email with a covering note. Emma didn’t think I should telephone him on a Sunday, but I felt it was a crisis, so I rang him up.’
‘What did he say to you?’ I asked.
‘He was very cagey. He wouldn’t tell me exactly what happened, but he admitted that the problem centred around the examinations. Apparently, after talking to Pilkington for a couple of hours, they made a gigantic fuss and walked out without even finishing the inspection. Reading between the lines, I think they discovered that the supposed external examiners don’t exist. They’re merely figments of John’s imagination.’
I thought there was no point in concealing the truth from Felix. The whole sorry story was going to come out and it would be all around the university within the next few days. ‘I know all about it,’ I said. ‘I’ve just been preaching at St Jerome’s in Oxford. Last night, by chance, I bumped into Harold Ewing. He buttonholed me and wanted to talk …’
I then recounted my conversation with Ewing. I explained that the suspicions of the inspection team were aroused by the names Pilkington had chosen for the examiners. They subjected him to the third degree and eventually he broke down. The whole appalling truth was revealed.
‘You mean it’s all Pilkington’s fault?’ Felix sounded despairing.
‘Well …’ I tried to be fair. ‘Not really. In the end it all comes down to Flanagan. If Flanagan had not been so determined to start up all these new programmes so quickly, there might have been a chance that all the proper procedures would have been followed. Real external examiners would have been appointed and all the paper-work might have been in order.’
‘Sloth’s not exactly guiltless either,’ observed Felix. ‘As Registrar he was meant to see that our degrees were correctly assessed and examined. It’s part of his job description. He didn’t do it and he went along with Flanagan’s plan of doctoring all the papers. Then he appointed that idiotic wife of his to execute the whole conspiracy.’
‘I suppose I’m responsible too,’ I suggested humbly. ‘Asking Pilkington to prepare the final review was my idea. I made the recommendation both to you and to Sloth.’
‘Yes you did!’ said Felix.
‘I do feel responsible,’ I continued. ‘There’s no doubt that John is efficient and meticulous. I was sure he’d do the job thoroughly. What I hadn’t reckoned on was his complete lack of imagination. When he chose the names of the examiners, he put down the first thing that came into his head. And of course they were all connected with the particular subject he was writing about.’
‘What names did he use?’ asked Felix.
‘Oh it was unbelievable! The Dance examiner was a Professor Lightfoot; Golf was the responsibility of a Dr Driver; Professor Eatwell managed the Catering; Brewing was looked after by a Dr Small-Beer and the Drama external was a William Playright!’
‘No!’ said Felix. ‘That’s incredible!’
‘I’m sure Pilkington did his best. It was certainly a very complete job, but inadvertently, he blew the whistle on the whole shooting-match …’
‘He’s a colossal dolt!’ was Felix’s verdict,
‘You haven’t heard the end,’ I said. ‘Harold Ewing told me they have no alternative. They have to report St Sebastian’s to the University Funding Council. There’s bound to be a huge inquisition. They’ll want to know exactly what’s been going on and, as you know, they have the power to shut off all the money which keeps the place going …’
‘It just gets worse and worse …,’ wailed the first holder of the St Sebastian’s Immanuel Kant Chair of Entertainment.
The first person I met when I arrived back at the Provost’s House was Marmaduke. He was sitting in our front garden and for the first time in our acquaintance he looked nervous. I soon discovered why. Using my latch-key I opened the front-door and Bess tried to push pass me. She clearly intended to round up the ginger-and-white beast and teach him some manners. However, before she had the chance, she was called to heel by Sir William. This gave Marmaduke the opportunity to flee for his life. He was half-way across the Green Court before he paused for breath.
; ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked my father-in-law. I was fond of Sir William, but I was tired after my journey and was looking forward to a quiet little chat with Victoria.
‘Daddy’s upset,’ said Victoria. ‘I told him to call a taxi and come over. He’s just arrived.’
‘I need a drink,’ said Sir William.
I left my bag in the hall and the three of us trooped into the study. Cleo and Brutus had already positioned themselves on the top of the tallboy to keep out of Bess’s way. However, I thought I could detect definite smirks of satisfaction on both their faces. They were not displeased at seeing Marmaduke humiliated.
Victoria poured out whisky for all of us and I asked the old man what had happened. ‘Kev’s been arrested!’ he said.
My mind was not working properly. ‘Who on earth is Kev?’ I asked.
‘Kev and Steve are the gardeners at the Priory,’ said my wife impatiently. ‘Daddy takes an interest in their welfare. You remember, he took them clay-pigeon-shooting.’
I nodded. The shaved and tattooed young men were decidedly memorable. ‘What’s he done?’ I asked.
‘That’s the point,’ boomed Sir William. ‘He hasn’t done anything. He was working overtime in the gardens this afternoon, tidying up and so on. Then suddenly a couple of policemen turned up and, without a by-your-leave, they hustled the lad into their car. It was a thoroughly bad show!’
‘But he must have done something to arouse their suspicions,’ I persisted.
‘Well I made Matron take me to the police station. I had a word with the desk sergeant. He was a disgrace to the force, slouching about in his seat, his tie all over the place. I made him stand up properly and call me “Sir”. As I told him, it’s my taxes which pay his wages.’
‘But what about Kev?’ I tried to get the old man to focus on the matter in hand.
‘Well once I’d explained who I was, he realised he’d better look a bit sharp. Kev was just keeping a bag for a friend. He had no idea what was in it, but it turned out that the friend had just done a house burglary and he’d stored the loot there.’
‘Well then Kev is guilty of receiving stolen goods, William,’ I said. ‘That’s quite a serious criminal offence.’
‘Nonsense!’ said my father-in-law. ‘He didn’t know what was in that bag … He was just doing a favour for a pal. It could have happened to any of us!’
‘Well what did you do about it, Daddy?’ asked Victoria.
‘The police had shut him in one of their cells. I insisted on seeing him by himself and then I sat with him while he made his statement. I know he’s telling the truth. He wasn’t involved with that burglary.’
‘Kev is helping Daddy redesign the flower beds at the back of the Priory,’ Victoria told me. ‘He’s a good worker and the Priory can’t afford to lose him.’
‘The problem is that he’s on his final warning,’ said Sir William. ‘Last time he came before the Magistrates, they told him that he would go to prison if he ever came before the courts again.’
‘So what will happen now?’ I asked.
‘His case’ll come up by the end of the month. I’ll go and give a statement on his behalf. I’ll make sure Matron does too!’ Not for nothing had Sir William commanded a regiment.
‘Perhaps you could get all your lady-friends to sign a petition!’ suggested Victoria.
‘Damned good idea!’ said Sir William. He relaxed in his chair and he addressed himself to his whisky. Then he looked up. ‘He’s a helpful, reliable lad and I’ll get him on the straight-and-narrow if it’s the last thing I ever do! You never know when a boy like that may be useful!’
After we had driven my father-in-law back to the Priory, Victoria and I sat together in front of the study fire. I told her all about my encounter with Harold Ewing and my telephone conversation with Felix.
‘Tell me! Do you feel guilty about the university because you didn’t tell the investigating team straightaway what was going on?’ asked Victoria. ‘Or are you really upset because you recommended Pilkington to do the evil deed and as a result the university was found out?’
I knew that she was teasing me, but it was a serious question. I sighed. ‘I don’t know. Of course I should have told Ewing what was happening, but the thought of the university failing the inspection was too horrible to contemplate. I’m right about that. Once the Funding Council comes in, it’s not impossible that the whole institution will be amalgamated with somewhere else or even be closed down altogether. There may be job losses … Unemployment will increase in the town … There’re all sorts of ghastly possibilities … It’s a real mess …’
‘Poor Harry!’ said Victoria. ‘Real life is not as simple as all your philosophers would have us believe, is it?’
The following week passed without any more mishaps. Kev’s case was due to come up before the court in a fortnight. Since his encounter with Bess, Marmaduke was avoiding our front garden. Canon and Mrs Blenkensop were taking a short holiday in Italy and Victoria’s Tuesday lecture – this time on Welsh porcelain – was generally enjoyed. I heard nothing more from the university. Then, on the following Monday morning, a letter arrived on offical writing paper. It was from Robert Sloth in his capacity as Acting Vice-Chancellor and was dated the previous Friday. It read as follows:
Dear Harry,
I am writing to you formally as the Visitor of the University. By now you will no doubt have heard the verdict of the Quality Control inspection. Throughout their visit, everything appeared to be going very well. As you will recall, the team was particularly impressed by the comments made by students about their courses. Although a small number of minor recommendations were made about our procedures and regulations, there was every reason to think that we would receive the classification of ‘Full Confidence’, which is the agency’s highest accolade. Indeed, the team leader, Professor Harold Ewing, indicated at noon on Thursday that this would be the likely outcome.
However, on the following day, Friday, the inspectors talked with the Dean, John Pilkington. The interview lasted for more than two hours and the discussion centred on the arrangements for external examiners. Unfortunately, they discovered a number of anomalies. I am sure the matter could have been sorted out calmly and amicably, but instead of discussing the problem quietly with me, they abruptly cut short the whole inspection. They ordered my secretary to telephone for a taxi and they left St Sebastian’s by the 1:30 train.
I had a partial explanation from Professor Ewing in an email on Saturday, but it was not until yesterday that I received an official letter from the inspectorate. After listing a number of criticisms, it delivered its official verdict. I regret to inform you that St Sebastian’s has received the classification of ‘No Confidence’.
This is, of course, a great disappointment and may have some serious implications for the future. I was most grateful to you and Victoria for allowing the university to host a dinner party in your house. With such a splendid start to the inspection, it is regrettable that we have not had a better outcome. In any event, it appears that we will now be faced with a further investigation. Professor Ewing, again without discussing the matter with me, has been in touch with the University Funding Council. Today I have received a letter from the Chief Executive Officer. He informs me that the Council is commissioning a team of three consultants. All three will be visiting the university in the very near future. They intend to conduct a thorough review of all of our procedures and they have indicated that they will be expecting to interview a number of members of staff.
The main purpose of this letter is to tell you about the result of the Quality Control inspection. However, I wonder if I could trouble you once again in your role as Visitor of the university. The three consultants are due to come to my office for the first time on Wednesday morning at eleven o’clock. I appreciate that this is very short notice, but I would be so grateful if you could be there to welcome them. Despite our experience with the Quality Control team, I still believe that first impr
essions are very important. It would be such a help if you could shake their hands and perhaps say a few words of encouragement about St Sebastian’s.
I cannot disguise from you that, as a result of this recent inspection, the whole institution may be under serious threat. As you may know, the Funding Council has the power to withdraw funds altogether if it is not satisfied with its consultants’ findings. We are standing at a crossroads. This is a critical moment in the history of our university and I would be most grateful if you would come to our aid in our hour of need,
May I ask you to inform my secretary as soon as possible whether we can expect you on Wednesday morning.
With best regards,
Yours ever,
Robert
‘(Dr Robert Sloth, Acting Vice-Chancellor)’
This was not a plea I could ignore. So on Wednesday I set off for the university as arranged. However, I was determined to have a word with Magnus beforehand. We planned to meet in his office at ten. As the cathedral clock struck the hour, I mounted the steps of the Old Building and headed off for his room. When I knocked on the door, he opened it wearing a maroon velvet smoking jacket and a black cap with a tassel. ‘Good grief,’ I said.
‘Rather fetching don’t you think? It was a present.’
‘A present?’ I asked. ‘From whom?’
Magnus looked a little self-conscious. ‘I’ve just come back from Brambletye. Dorothy Upton invited me to give a lecture on Hebrew internet sources to her students on Friday and I stayed for a long weekend. Brambletye’s a nice old place. I’d never been there before and we found this jacket in an interesting old clothes shop.’
I was amused. ‘So you’ve been to stay with Miss Upton and she bought it for you?’