Savannah Law

by William Eleazer

  “There are very few things in this world that I am certain of, Nick, but one of them is that Desano is going to try this case Monday, come hell or high water. That motion would just waste time and piss off Desano. You just need to get this case reassigned this afternoon. I can help until Friday, but I’m leaving for Atlanta Saturday morning.

  “The problem, Grady, is finding someone to take this case on such short notice. Every other prosecutor has a full plate this coming week.”

  “How about Meg? She was to second chair it until she had the surgery. I know she’s new to felonies, but she was well thought of in misdemeanors. Is she back?”

  “Got back this morning. But I hate to saddle her with this case, especially on such short notice.”

  “Scott has been working with me on the case. He could help her. Right, Scott?”

  “Sure. I’m familiar with the evidence. I don’t have any trials scheduled for two more weeks. I could devote full time to it.”

  “OK, Meg it is. Go brief her.”

  Scott and Grady went to Meg’s office with the news. She listened carefully as Scott and Grady relayed the day’s events.

  “Can we get to work on it tonight?” asked Meg. “I’ve got a medical appointment in the morning. Routine, but I’ll be gone most of the morning. Monday will be here too soon.”

  “Sure,” said Grady. “OK with you, Scott?”

  “OK with me,” replied Scott. It was not really OK. He had a seminar class at seven, but this involved a real trial, and maybe he could get an active part in it. The seminar could proceed without him.

  “Then let’s meet in my office in an hour,” said Grady. “I have all the exhibits and investigative reports. Meg, I’ll give you my trial notebook, and we can discuss the whole prosecution plan. I’ll send out for pizza, and we’ll work as long as it takes.”

  CHAPTER 34

  At the same time Sidney Ellis was in Judge Desano’s office informing him that John Harrison had hired another attorney, Winston Adams was in his office preparing for the third week of the new semester. Deborah Channing arrived promptly at ten for an appointment, and after the zany photo ritual, she took her seat.

  “No substantial change to the fall enrollment, and I’m not ready to report on the spring entering class. I didn’t see anything on the agenda for the faculty meeting this afternoon that affects my office, so, unless you want me there, I’m going to skip it.”

  “Sure, skip it. It should be short. A few committee reports and one agenda item submitted by Denis Nolan.”

  “I saw that,” said Deborah. “But I didn’t quite understand it. ‘The relationship of Savannah College of Law to the Library Bar and Grill.’ What does he mean by that?”

  “Beats me,” said Winston. “I guess I’ll find out this afternoon. He’s never mentioned anything about the Library to me, good or bad. I know he visits there quite frequently. Maybe he wants to annex it. He has the money to do it.”

  They both laughed.

  “Did you receive my memo adding a first-year student to the Search Committee?” asked Winston.

  “Yes, and I personally notified the student of her selection. Jennifer Stone. A bright young lady. I think you made a good selection.”

  “Not my selection; she was the only nominee. Several professors submitted her name, including Denis.”

  “Dean, I think there is something you should know. Professor Nolan contacted me about the possibility of academic credit for students on the trial team. He apparently is involved somehow with the coaching of one of the competitions. He had a list of students, and Jennifer Stone was listed as a witness.”

  “I know you think this is coming as a surprise,” said Winston, “but, Deborah, I’m well acquainted with Denis. Nothing surprises me. Let’s hear it.” His usual smile faded into a frown.

  “I explained that giving academic credit for their work on the trial team was not a decision I could make. It would have to be submitted to the Curriculum Committee and finally approved by the faculty before any academic credit could be granted. Jennifer is also a student in his Property class. And this morning, I received a call from Carol in the business office wanting to know her academic status. Carol said Professor Nolan had submitted Jennifer’s name to be his student research assistant. Carol wanted to know her class status, as it had been omitted from the application. When I told her Jennifer was in her first semester, Carol was surprised. And a bit annoyed. She said she thought everyone on the faculty knew that first-year students were ineligible to be research assistants, and she would have to disapprove the application. Dean, he seems to have a close involvement with this student. I’m not suggesting anything, but I thought you should be aware of it.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t suggesting something, Deborah?” asked Winston, a smile replacing the frown.

  Deborah paused briefly before responding. “Perhaps I am, but I just think you should have a heads up on the matter.”

  “You are right. And I appreciate it. I depend on you to keep me informed—like Velma’s latest caper.”

  “Have you spoken to Velma about it?”

  “Not yet. But I need to see her before she meets that class again.”

  “It’s pretty much the gossip of the day on campus. I know it was inappropriate conduct. But coming from Velma, I think it’s kind of funny,” said Deborah.

  “It might have been funny except for the Duke affair. I thought Velma would have avoided that kind of humor—assuming she thought it was humorous—after her last attempt. Frankly, I didn’t know Velma had a humorous streak. For that I’m pleased. But I’m going to have a serious talk with her.”

  Now, how about an update on the Dean Search Committee— how many applications have you received?”

  “Sixteen as of this morning. Some very impressive. Professor Nolan is still the lone applicant from our faculty. I’ve received confirmation from all the Search Committee members for the meeting on the fifteenth. You will be there, won’t you?”

  “I’ll be there. But I will be taking a low profile. The old dean serving on the committee searching for the new dean must not be too visible. This may be a time for the school to bend in a new direction. My job here was to get the school up and running. The new dean will have to provide his or her own vision for the school. With Denis being the sole applicant from our faculty, I suspect you may be worried that Denis may be your next dean. I believe that worry is misplaced. Institutional inbreeding doesn’t usually result in the new ideas and creativity needed to move the school forward. And that’s why search committees often find that the best applicant is from an outside source, not from the law school’s own faculty. Don’t worry about Denis. This is a very capable committee.”

  Deborah smiled. “With that optimistic note, I trust you will excuse me. I have some work to do.”

  CHAPTER 35

  It was a little after four Tuesday afternoon, and the third faculty meeting of the fall semester was about to begin. The seats were filling slowly, and Dean Adams made his customary announcement of waiting “until we have a quorum.”

  Brian Latimer and Belinda Chapman were already seated and engaged in quiet conversation. “I guess we are waiting on VanLandingham—again,” said Belinda. “She seems to carry a lot of weight at these meetings.”

  It was an unintended pun, but both laughed.

  “Yes, she carries a lot of weight, but Winston may be fed up with her latest antic. I just hope he doesn’t fire her.”

  “Fire her? For what?”

  “You haven’t heard? This campus must not be the gossip mill it once was. Velma is like a bull dog on the students about class attendance. She doesn’t believe in the eighty percent rule—she requires one hundred percent attendance in her first-year classes. This semester on the first day of classes, she sent a class roll around for the students to sign. At the top of the sheet, she had written, ‘I expect you here for every class unless you are dead.’”

  “Unless you’re dead?” asked Belinda.
“That’s pretty weird.”

  “Yes, but it’s Velma being Velma. And some semesters she does more than just send that warning—she follows up. That got her fired at Duke, and now, maybe here.”

  “Bizarre, weird—and in my opinion, wacky. But that’s not an act that would get a professor fired, is it?”

  “No, but as I said, she sometimes follows up, and her prank at Duke did get her fired. Well, not exactly fired, but Duke refused to renew her contract.”

  “What happened?” asked Belinda.

  “During the second week of classes, a female student was absent from class, and Velma fired off a sympathy card—mailed it to the student’s parents. Something like, ‘Your loss is shared by those of us here at Duke. Please know you are in our prayers.’ Unfortunately, the student had not written or called home in a week. The parents panicked. Immediately, they tried to contact their daughter but couldn’t. The mother was frantic—wondering if their daughter could possibly be dead. The father called the dean of the law school. Of course, the dean had no knowledge of what was going on. It took more than an hour to find the student and get the parents calmed down. The parents were emotional wrecks by the time they determined that their daughter was OK. And they were very angry—threatened a lawsuit against the school and against Velma. I don’t think anything came of it, but Velma was history there.”

  “That’s awful. And she did it again? Here?”

  “Not quite. This time, she did it a bit differently. Last Friday was the first day one of her students was absent. Toward the end of the class, when she was sure the student would not show, she told the class she had a sad announcement to make. Gretchen, their classmate who was absent, had died. She had a sympathy card similar to the one she sent to the Duke parents. She passed it around for all the class to sign. Students were shocked to hear of the ‘death’ of their classmate. Some were visibly upset, tears in their eyes. Right before the class ended, she told the students she really wasn’t aware of where the student was, or why she was absent, that she was merely trying to remind them of the importance of class attendance. Some students apparently thought it was funny, and some thought it was appalling. Velma, of course, didn’t care what they thought. In her mind, she had simply made her point. I don’t think it will get her fired, but there’s no way Winston is going to just let it go.”

  Approximately a quarter after the hour, Professor Rose signaled Winston that a quorum was present, and the meeting was called to order. The minutes were approved, and Winston presented the “Dean Scene.” The appointment of Jennifer Stone as a member of the Dean Search Committee was included, as was an announcement that the first meeting of that committee would be a week from Friday.

  Winston’s announcements prompted no questions or comments, and he quickly moved to committee reports. The iPod gamers, crossword workers, and Sudoku solvers continued to enjoy the quiet oblivion of the rear row.

  The final committee report for the day was from the Student Life and Welfare Committee, chaired by Professor Aaron Wingate.

  “I have a small issue to bring before the faculty,” he began. “One of the student organizations has petitioned our committee to have condom machines—that is, pay machines—installed on the campus. The majority of our committee is in favor of this for obvious reasons—combating AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases. However, one member of the committee is very opposed and asked that I bring it before the full faculty. Two machines would be installed in restrooms and serviced by a local vending machine company at no cost to the school. We would welcome your comments.”

  Aaron looked into the audience and saw one hand go up. He turned to face Professor Robert Mitchell. “I’m glad Rob wants to be heard. He is the committee member opposed to the machines on campus. Rob, you have the floor.”

  About half the back-row gamers raised their heads. Rob rose from his seat on the front row and turned to face the faculty.

  “I oppose this for a number of reasons, and not merely because my religion is opposed to the use of condoms. These machines will be like banners hanging from an overpass saying ‘Welcome to Savannah College of Law, where sexual promiscuity is officially approved and accepted.’ I don’t want our restrooms to take on the appearance of an interstate truck stop, and I see no reason for our law school to go into competition with every drugstore and supermarket in Savannah by selling condoms from self-serve machines. I don’t want fathers of students walking into a men’s room and being hit in the face with the sight of a condom machine. I see no reason that Savannah Law....”

  “Wait one moment!” A strong female voice interrupted Rob. It was Velma VanLandingham. She was now standing. “Did I hear you say, ‘Fathers going into men’s rooms?’ Is that what I heard? Aaron, just where does your committee propose placing those condom machines?” She was looking past Rob as if he were not even present.

  “Velma, there would be two machines. One in the men’s room just outside the student cafeteria, the other in the men’s room on the first floor of the main academic building.”

  “Then I’m fighting mad! Fighting mad!”

  With those words, all on the back row abandoned their games to look at Velma.

  “It’s the same old entrenched sexual bias. Two condom machines. And where do they go? Both of them? In men’s rooms!” Velma was speaking in her fighting-mad voice and had assumed her fighting-mad stance: veins and muscles taut, eyes blazing.

  “Velma, just where would you expect the condom machines to be placed? We are open to suggestions.” Aaron remained calm but was obviously exasperated by the sudden and combative intrusion into the discussion.

  “Then place one in a women’s restroom. I don’t care which women’s restroom. But if you place a condom machine in a men’s restroom, then one must go into a women’s restroom. And make sure it is stocked with female condoms.” Velma took her seat.

  “Female condoms?” Aaron mumbled, to no one in particular. He looked perplexed.

  Velma quickly rose again. “Yes, female condoms. They do exist, you know. Or is it possible your committee was unaware of that? They have been in use in Europe for years, and even here in the prudish USA, they have FDA approval. And they also prevent the spread of AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases—as well as children, which is what most use them for. They can be dispensed through machines just like male condoms. I think your committee’s proposal needs a lot more work.” Velma sat down.

  Winston stood and walked to where Rob was standing. He was inclined to agree with Velma, that the proposal needed a lot more work.

  “Yes,” Winston said, apparently addressing Velma’s suggestion for more committee work. “Aaron, would you and your committee take another look at this? And I want to thank you for bringing it before the faculty. We can take it up later, if your committee wishes, after everyone has had time to give it some serious personal thought.” Winston quickly moved to the next item on the agenda.

  Brian leaned over and whispered to Belinda, “So, do we or do we not need those machines in the women’s restrooms at Savannah College of Law?”

  “I don’t know, Brian. I guess it’s a ‘classic college campus condom conundrum.’”

  They both laughed.

  Winston was still at the lectern, looking over the agenda. He read the next item just as it appeared: “Proximity of the Library Bar and Grill to Savannah College of Law.”

  As he read, only the tops of the heads of the gamers were visible. It was business as usual on the back row.

  “Professor Nolan, I believe this is your item.”

  Winston took a nearby seat, and Denis walked to the lectern to address the faculty.

  “I want to alert you to a critical problem that needs our immediate attention, and that’s the business establishment known as the Library Bar and Grill and its effect on our students. Our administration should have identified this problem long ago. A bar so close to impressionable young men and women cannot help but have a corrupting influence. What we a
re doing is encouraging and advancing the alcoholism rate among our students. For three years, students attend our school with a bar within spitting distance of their classrooms. On any given night, and especially on Friday and Saturday nights, there are more students in the Library Bar and Grill than in our own library.”

  “Come on, Denis, what’s got your hackles up?” A voice from a midrow interrupted Denis. It was Professor Barron Whitaker, “We are a law school, not a licensing board.”

  “I am quite aware it has a license to operate, but it should not have our approval.”

  “What approval? Winston, are you giving out those phony licenses again?” responded Barron. A few members laughed, as if an inside joke was involved.

  “By doing nothing in response to student complaints, we are indeed giving approval.”

  Winston spoke up. “What student complaints, Denis?”

  “Student Bar Association. Some members, who wish to remain unidentified, came to me last week. Their complaint is that a bar so close to the campus has a corrosive effect on the school, yet the school continues to support it.”

  “And how do we support it?” asked Winston.

  “In a number of ways,” replied Denis. “Our housing office sends housing information, our registrar sends course schedules, and all of this gets posted on the Library’s bulletin board. Every time a professor cancels or changes a class date, it gets posted on that bulletin board in the Library. And our faculty continues to send their extra course books over there. Now the Library’s library is more complete and accessible than Savannah Law’s library!”

  “So what, Denis? Get over it. That’s nothing to bitch about,” said Barron.

  “Hear me out, Barron. It brings me to my main point, and that is that the Library Bar and Grill should never have been located there in the first place. It’s in violation of Section 6-1210 of the Savannah Alcoholic Beverages Licensing Regulations. I’ve researched it. The regulations prohibit the sale of beer and wine within one hundred yards of any school building or college campus. Our failure to oppose its location exposes Savannah Law to liability for accidents and injuries resulting from the sale of alcoholic beverages there.”