Every Breath You Take

by Jay Zendrowski

  Chapter 29

  Ian McTavish was pissed-really pissed. He'd driven two hours to Toronto in the hopes of getting some firsthand information on Drummond's background, and what had caused him to leave the University of Toronto. All he'd gotten for his trouble was a bunch of closed mouths and blank stares. The Dean of Sociology had flat-out refused to see him, as had the Associate Dean. He'd managed to catch three faculty members briefly in their offices, but he got the same party line from each of them. It was like they'd been handed a script to read when it came to Professor Robert Drummond, each of them tight-lipped and seemingly reluctant to speak out.

  "Professor Drummond chose to leave to further his career?..the department wishes him the best of luck in his future endeavors?..blah...blah?blah." It didn't matter if he pressed them harder, when it came to getting anything of value out of the professor's former colleagues, McTavish ended up with the big nada-zip?zero?zilch.

  Frustrated, he was just about to enter the elevator to leave the department when one of the administrative assistants he'd seen sitting in the common work area came running up, an unlit cigarette in her hand.

  "Can you hold the elevator, please," she called. McTavish reached down and pressed the 'Door Open' button for her. The girl turned and spoke, "Chantal, I'm just going out for a smoke, I'll be back in a few minutes." She stepped into the elevator and turned to McTavish as the doors closed. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

  "No problem."

  "Uh listen, I couldn't help but overhear that you were asking the faculty members about Robert Drummond."

  "Yes?" McTavish said, his curiosity piqued.

  "There's someone you should talk to if you want to know more about Professor Drummond-Dr. Anne Seaton."

  "Is she a faculty member?"

  "She was, but not anymore. She left before Professor Drummond did, and he was the reason why."

  "So where can I find this Dr. Seaton?"

  "She's in the sociology department at the University of Waterloo now. I think you'll find what she has to say to be very interesting."

  The elevator dinged as it arrived at the first floor. The woman walked out of the elevator and right out the front door, McTavish in pursuit. "Wait," he said, "can I have your name?"

  "No. I never talked to you. I do unfortunately have a habit of talking to myself out loud on elevators, and you just happened to overhear me." She turned on her heel and walked away, lighting her cigarette as she did.

  McTavish walked briskly to his car and headed back towards London on the freeway, the University of Waterloo about halfway home. He took the turnoff marking Kitchener/Waterloo and headed north, or west, or whatever direction the street signs said. He knew his way around the connected cities, but it drove him nuts that in Kitchener, the streets were labelled east/west, while the same streets changed to north/south once you entered Waterloo. For that reason alone he was glad he lived in London every time he came here.

  About half an hour after leaving the freeway, he found himself parked near the building housing the sociology department at the University of Waterloo. The campus was known for its math, computer science and engineering departments, its arts and humanities departments a fraction of the size of Western's. He located the faculty offices for the sociology department and after identifying himself, asked if Dr. Seaton was in.

  "Yes, she just got back from class a short time ago. I'll see if she is free to see you," the pretty administrative assistant said as she got up and went to one door in a row of offices made of metal and frosted glass. Trendy light fixtures and a boldly-patterned carpet gave the office a modern vibe. McTavish thought it looked like something out of The Jetsons compared to the antiquated offices they'd encountered at Western.

  "Detective, if you'll come this way, Dr. Seaton will see you now." The young woman smiled as she stood at the entrance to the office, ushering McTavish in.

  "Thanks very much," McTavish said, stepping into the office.

  "Thanks, Laura. If you could close the door behind you, that would be great." Dr. Seaton stood up and came around her desk, arm extended. "Hi, I'm Anne Seaton."

  McTavish reached forward and shook her hand. "Detective Ian McTavish. I appreciate you taking the time to see me."

  "Not a problem, Detective. Have a seat." She pointed to the modern-looking chairs facing hers as she took her spot behind her desk.

  McTavish had a chance to size her up as she sat down. He pegged her at about forty, medium height and build. She wore a smart-looking charcoal pantsuit that fit her like she'd had it specially made. A crisp white shirt beneath had a sharply pointed collar that lay over the lapels of the jacket. She had shoulder-length curly chestnut-coloured hair that framed a face made up of sharp features, a slim nose set between prominent cheekbones and an assertive chin. She had friendly blue eyes that looked out at him from behind stylish black-framed glasses that were curvy at the bottom and sharply squared-off at the top. The design made McTavish look twice, but he realized he liked the way they looked on her-they suited her distinctive appearance. His overall opinion of her in those first few seconds was that she was a confident, mature woman who was comfortable in her own skin.

  "So, Laura said you're with the London police force?" Even the woman's voice fit her appearance, her tone calm but sure.

  "Yes." McTavish paused, unsure of exactly how to continue. "I understand you might be able to tell me something about Professor Robert Drummond?"

  A smug smile immediately came over the woman's face-not arrogant like the smile Drummond had given them-but a knowing smile that assured him she would be able to fill in some gaps on the professor. She reached up and adjusted her glasses for a second or two before speaking. "Who told you that I might have something to say?" Her tone didn't sound accusatory or guarded in any way-just curious.

  "I spoke with people in the sociology department at the University of Toronto, and someone there mentioned you might be able to help me out."

  "Let me guess-you didn't get a word out of any of the faculty members there, right?"

  There was something about the woman that made McTavish feel confident in being honest with her. "Yes, that's exactly what happened. Nobody would tell me anything of value."

  "That's because it comes down from the Dean. He's told them not to talk. I think they're worried about what might happen if they do."

  "Talk about what? And why would the Dean want to shut them up?" McTavish leaned forward, knowing he was finally going to get somewhere.

  "Just slow down for a second, detective. We'll get to all that. But first of all, does this have anything to do with the young girl from Western that was murdered in London recently?"

  "We're following up on a number of leads. That's all."

  "Of course." Dr. Seaton smiled, as if she had already known what his response would be. "And so, following these leads has led you to Robert Drummond, which has eventually led you here." She looked at McTavish questioningly.

  "Yes," he answered with a simple nod.

  "All right," she said as she let out a big sigh. "I just want you to know, Detective McTavish, that what we're going to talk about now is completely off the record. I hope this can help you with your investigation, but if you ever try to call me to testify, I won't do it. Do you understand?"

  McTavish paused, then made his decision. "Okay."

  "So, I'm asking you flat out-you are not recording this conversation in any way, are you, Detective McTavish?"

  "No."

  "All right." She leaned back in her chair and started to talk, her voice still calm and resolute. "I had been in the sociology department at Dalhousie in Halifax for a number of years before taking a position at U. of T. Robert Drummond was on the faculty there when I met him and had been for as long as I'd been out on the east coast. We got along well. We were both single, with no family in the Toronto area, and we ended up hitting it off. We eventually started dating." She paused. "Tell me, detective, have you personally met Robert Drummond?"

 
"I have, yes. My partner and I interviewed him in his office at Western."

  "Then you know what he's like. He can be very charming, which he was with me-at that time. And he's very good looking, especially when he looks at you with those big brown eyes of his. He looks like Bambi all alone in the woods, for God's sake." She gave a little chuckle, and having seen Drummond in person, McTavish couldn't help but smile along with her.

  "We went out a couple of times, and things seemed to be going very well. And then things changed. On our third date we went out to dinner, had a couple of glasses of wine with our meal, and then he asked if I wanted to go back to his apartment. I said yes. When we were there, he went into the kitchen and came back with two glasses of wine, even though I told him I didn't want any more." Dr. Seaton looked across at McTavish. "To be honest, detective, I went there thinking we were going to have sex. You know, the standard 'third date sex thing' that people talk about. Anyways, I thought that was going to happen, and I was fine with that, but I didn't want to be plastered when it happened. But he was drinking and was insistent that I have the glass of wine he'd brought me. When I refused, I was surprised when he actually became angry. I told him that he was drunk and that I was leaving, and when I picked up my purse, he grabbed my arm and threw me down on the floor. I hit my head on the corner of the couch, which made me a little woozy. Before I knew it, he was on top of me and he tore open my shirt. I kind of came around and when I looked up at his face, the look in his eyes scared the crap out of me. I'd worn a skirt and his hand was beneath it by now, and he tore my panties right off. I was so scared I felt like I could barely breathe. He moved slightly to one side and I knew that might be my only chance. I brought my knee up as hard as I could right into his groin. He let out a growl like a wounded animal and tried to punch me as he rolled over to the side, one hand going between his legs. I moved my head out of the way just in time to avoid his punch, and pushed him right off me. My purse was right there so I grabbed it and took off out of there."

  McTavish remained silent as Dr. Seaton sat pensively, composing herself. "And you never reported it?" McTavish said after a few moments.

  She sat there and shook her head. "No. I was younger then-stupider too-the stupidity that comes with a lack of maturity. Things would be different if that happened today. I was new to the department compared to him. I was sure the others would have thought I led him on-after all, he was his usual charming self with all of them, of course-and who was I? Just a new faculty member who they thought was probably a tease to the good-looking Professor Robert Drummond. So no, I didn't say anything. At the end of the term, I applied for a position that opened up here at Waterloo, and I've been here ever since."

  "You say he tried to force that glass of wine on you and got upset when you didn't drink it. What do you think that was all about?"

  "At first I thought he was just drunk and wanted to get me drunk as well, but with what happened after I left, I'm not so sure."

  "What do you mean, 'what happened after you left'?"

  "This brings us to what happened with you today, that nobody there would say anything to you. I heard from friends I still had in the department that there were a couple of 'incidents', as they called them, between Professor Drummond and female students. There were allegations of coercion, rape--that kind of thing. Apparently one girl claimed there were drugs involved." She paused as McTavish slowly nodded. "The parents of one girl filed a lawsuit against the university because of it. Apparently the university's lawyers reached a settlement with the family and it never went to court. It was shortly after that that Drummond took the position at Western, the move being labeled by U. of T. as 'being in everyone's best interests'."

  "So I still don't get it. Why didn't anyone there say a word about that?"

  "I hear they've all been given a gag order by the dean. I'm not sure what exactly happened, but Drummond had something on the Dean. When we first started dating, he told me that he and the Dean had been to a conference in Boston a couple of years previously, and something had happened that he said was 'best that the Dean's wife never finds out'. And knowing Drummond, I'm sure he held whatever that was over the Dean. He likes to toy with people like that. But you've met him, so I'm sure you know exactly what I mean."

  "Yes, I do," McTavish replied, clearly remembering the arrogant look Drummond had had on his face the whole time he and Chin were talking to him.

  "Well, detective, that's about all I can tell you about Professor Robert Drummond." Dr. Seaton got up from her chair, signalling that the interview was over.

  "Thank you very much, that's been a great help," McTavish said, getting up from his seat and shaking the woman's hand.

  She walked him to the door of her office. He was just on his way out when she spoke again, stopping him. "Detective, be careful around that man. After what I've been through with him, and seen in his eyes that night, there's probably no way to know what he's capable of."