A Tangled Web (40 page)

Other professors who will be asked to testify, according to Mr. Stroud, are . . .

“Excuse me,” Sabrina said again and rushed into the corridor where they had hooked up a portable telephone. Billy Koner was walking up the stairs. “Vern's in the office,” she said, and dialed Garth's number at the university.

“He's here? He's turned over a new leaf?”

“I doubt it.” The ringing went on; she pictured Garth's
office, empty. “Billy, I won't be able to stay this morning. The specs are in the office. You and Vern can go over them and call me.”

“No, no, that won't—” He stopped as she bent her head to talk privately on the telephone. “I'll wait for you in the office,” he muttered and left her alone.

“He's in the lab, Mrs. Andersen,” the secretary said. “Professor Collins had to go out of town and asked Professor Andersen to take his lab class and it's an especially long one; it's the last of the summer session. Is something happening? Three reporters have called this morning.”

“Can you get a message to him in the lab?”

“I can go over there. Is that what you want me to do?”

“Yes. Please. Tell him to call me . . . no, I'll be on my way home.”
I wanted a phone in the car, but Garth said it was an extravagance. I thought, after Mrs. Thirkell, a car phone would look like nothing, but I thought wrong.
“Tell him I'll call him in his office in fifteen minutes. And, Dalia, keep the reporters away. Can you do that?”

“Why don't I suggest he use Professor Collins's office? No one will find him there.”

“Oh, very good.” Wonderful, unquestioning Dalia; she should get a raise, Sabrina thought. “Do you have that phone number?”

She wrote it down, then, starting back to the office, had another idea and dialed her home number. “Mrs. Thirkell, have any reporters called this morning?”

“Three or four, my lady. All wanting Professor Andersen. I told them I had no idea when he would be home.”

“Thank you.” We are blessed with discreet women, she thought. “You can continue to say that all day. And if I'm not back when Penny and Cliff get home from camp, please tell them to stay home and wait for me.”

Billy Koner and Stern were waiting for her, the
Tribune
spread out before them.

“This is your husband?”

“Yes. I'm sorry, Billy, but I have to leave.”

“Because of this? What's the problem? He goes to D.C., tells them he spent the money on research or whatever, and he comes home. ‘Course he shouldn't have said that about fabricating plots, that wasn't smart, if you'll forgive my saying so, but they don't hang people for that. So how come you have to hold his hand?”

“I want to be with him. When Roy Stroud was here he made it clear that he and Leglind are looking for a very big story with heroes and villains. Leglind is the hero; who do you think will be the villains?”

“Your husband? He's just a professor. These guys like bigger fish: CEOs, bank presidents, stockbrokers . . . they make good stories because the dollars are bigger and nobody loves them except maybe their dogs. You're too uptight, Stephanie; it comes from being connected to a university. You people lose touch with reality.”

Impatiently she shook her head. “Leglind wants a ladder to climb on and he thinks he's going to get it from universities. He doesn't like professors and they're an easy target because they're so insulated they don't see what's coming until they've been run over by it.”

“He doesn't need a ladder, he's head of one of the most powerful committees . . . Listen. I know Oliver Leglind; we grew up together. I put more money into his campaigns than people in his own state, than anybody, probably. He isn't going to run over anybody, and whatever you mean by a ladder, he isn't looking for it.”

“I didn't realize you knew him. Then you'd know better than most people what he's thinking. He is a powerful man, but maybe the House isn't enough for him. Does he want to be in the Senate? Has he ever talked about the White House?”

Koner's face changed. After a minute he said, “They all talk about the White House.”

“Really? All of them? Well, that may be, but right now I'm only interested in what Oliver Leglind talks about. He's built a reputation for being hard-nosed about the
budget, except for projects in his own state, and now it looks as if he's going to get hard-nosed about professors with government grants. And they're sitting ducks because they can't show that every dollar they get leads to a product that you can buy at Wal-Mart. And if I can be of any help to my husband when Leglind goes after him, that's where I'll be, for as long as it takes.”

There was a pause. Koner picked up the newspaper. “It says here, ‘Professor Andersen has admitted that some universities are guilty of excesses.' ”

“That was Roy Stroud supposedly quoting Garth; I wouldn't take it on faith. But suppose he did say it. There are excesses everywhere. One definition of government is excess.”

Koner laughed. “Right. They do know a lot about excess in Washington. So. Your husband isn't going to whip up some genes that I can buy at Wal-Mart?”

Sabrina smiled. “I'm afraid not.”

“But he could change cattle or whatever, you know, getting more milk or leaner beef or whatever. Things we eat, right?”

“There are researchers working in those areas.”

“At your husband's university?”

“Yes. As long as they have the money. You can't have research unless someone pays for it.”

“Why don't the universities pay for it?”

“They do, as much as they can.”

“And they don't waste the government's money?”

“They probably do; I don't think anybody's found a way to make every penny productive. Have you, at home, or in remodeling this building?”

“I watch every penny.”

“That isn't what I asked. No waste, Billy, anywhere, in any of your projects?” She waited. “Well, that's not the main point anyway. I want to be with my husband, now that your friend has gone after him, and that's where I'm going. I'll call you—”

Koner grunted. “Maybe I'll have a talk with Ollie. See
what he's up to. He's gonna be looking for money pretty soon; they always are, in the House. Damnedest thing; they get elected and they haven't even warmed their chairs before they're asking for money for the next campaign. I don't know how he has time to go after professors or anybody else. But what the hell, you're right: there's plenty of waste around. He could find it blindfolded; he doesn't have to go after it here. Listen. I'll talk to him. So today you can stay with Vern and get the specs finished. Right?”

“No, today I'm going to be with Garth. If you want—”

“It's Friday! You'll be with him all weekend!”

“If you want to talk to the congressman, Billy, you'll be doing it on your own, not as our representative. But I'll be interested in what he has to say. Call me at home. Anytime.”

She shook hands with him and with Stern, picked up her briefcase and ran from the building, then walked quickly the half block to the garage.

“I never washed it, Mrs. Andersen; you said three hours.”

“It's all right, Juan; next time.”

On Sheridan Road she pulled into a gas station and called Garth. “Have you seen today's
Tribune?
”

“Just now. There was a copy in Chuck's office. Don't worry about it; it's a nuisance but we'll handle it.”

“I'm on my way home.”

“You don't have to do that.”

“I want to. Garth, I think it's more than a nuisance.”

She heard him tapping a pencil on the desk. “Well, so do I. But I haven't had time to think it through. There are exciting things happening here; I saw Lu this morning, and his paper . . . well, I'll tell you about it later.”

“Is it finished? Are you submitting it?”

“It's finished; I'll send it in next week. I'm glad you're coming home. There's a lot to talk about.”

“Garth, you won't talk to any reporters, will you? I should tell you about Billy Koner before you do.”

“What about him?”

“He knows Leglind; in fact, it sounds like he's Leglind's pot of gold. He says he's going to talk to him. I'll tell you about it at home.”

But when she parked the car in the driveway and walked up the front walk, Garth and Lu were sitting on the front porch swing, deep in conversation. Garth came down the steps and kissed her. “I couldn't send him away; he's too keyed up. It's a defining moment for him; he really isn't a student anymore: he's a scientist.”

Sabrina turned to smile at Lu. “But he doesn't look happy.”

“I know. I asked him if something was wrong. He said no. He could be worrying about the journal accepting his paper, but I've told him a dozen times I'm sure they'll accept it, which means it could be published before the end of the year. I don't know what's bothering him; I haven't pursued it.”

“No, we have other things to think about.”

Lu came down the steps. “I'll be going. If we could talk again, Professor—tomorrow, perhaps . . .”

“Lu, this weekend won't be a good time. But we've covered everything; there's nothing to do now but wait to hear from the editors.”

“Once you submit the paper.”

“I told you I'd do that next week.”

Lu hesitated, then nodded. “Thank you.” His voice was polite, flat, almost distant.

“How odd,” Sabrina said, watching him walk away. “You're far more excited than he is. Did you say he was keyed up?”

“Almost manic when he arrived. Almost sleepwalking when he left. Maybe I will try to see him tomorrow.”

“Garth, how about paying some attention to Professor Andersen and the crusading Oliver Leglind?”

He chuckled and put his arm around her as they walked up the porch steps. “I'm glad you're home. I'm glad you're with me. I love you.”

They held each other and kissed. “Oh, your arms feel good,” Sabrina sighed. “I miss them when they're not around me. I miss you, too.” But after a minute she pulled away with a smile. “Too hot for extended kissing. Oh, iced tea. How wonderful.”

“Courtesy of Mrs. Thirkell. She was making it when I got home.”

“Is she here?”

“Shopping. Back soon.” He dropped ice cubes into two glasses and filled them from the pitcher, beaded with moisture in the heat. They sat close together on the swing, holding hands. “What did your Billy Koner say?”

“I gather he's going to tell Leglind to take his fangs somewhere else.”

“Why would Koner do that?”

“Either because I convinced him that universities aren't cesspools of waste and corruption, or because he thinks I won't spend time on his building if you're being hounded.”

“And why would Leglind listen to him? You said something about a pot of gold.”

“He made it sound as if he single-handedly funds Leglind's career. That could mean giving a lot or raising a lot; probably both.”

“Did you ask him to talk to Leglind?”

“Garth, of course not! In the first place, I'm not even sure it's the best thing to do.”

“It may not be. What did you tell him?”

“That if he did talk to Leglind he was doing it on his own, not as our representative, but of course I'd be interested in what he has to say.”

“That sounds fine.” Garth drained his glass and refilled it, and they sat in silence.

“You lost your temper with Stroud,” Sabrina said.

“I was imprudent. I told myself to be polite, but that was after I hadn't been.”

“And the quote about excesses in universities?”

“Not accurate. I said if there were excesses, that still wouldn't be an excuse to attack all research.”

“A slash-and-burn rampage.”

“Not the best choice of words.”

“No.” She smiled at him. “I love you, and you shouldn't have talked to him when you knew how angry you were.”

“You're right. It's happened before. I should know better.”

“When do you think they'll call you to testify?”

“September, October, maybe later. They don't seem to be in a hurry. They're concentrating on maximum publicity for a while.”

“You've got the money for the institute, though.”

“Most of it. It would be worse if we'd just begun our fund-raising. Still, I'd rather all those people of goodwill wouldn't be reading in their newspapers for the next couple of months about money going down the drain at Midwestern U.”

“Is that what you're worried about?”

“That's part of it. I suppose my job as director would be on the line if they decided the institute is a boondoggle.”

“Not for you; no one would accuse you of enriching yourself.”

“Glory and fame. Keeping my name visible.”

Sabrina thought of Vernon Stern. “That's important for some people; it's never been for you.”

“Tell that to the congressman.”

They were silent again. Beyond the shaded porch the humid air hung from the sky like a faintly rippling curtain, making the street look like an old painting, faded with time. Sabrina stirred, turning her hand within Garth's. “I said something today about writing down what we do and think: that we should write it all down because without warning it could vanish.”

“An unhappy thought. What we have won't vanish.”

“I was thinking of our street, our solid, secure, comfortable
street. And it really is . . . but it's also a place where bad things can happen.”

“Which we will face together. And vanquish.” They heard the telephone. “Damn, where is Mrs. Thirkell when we need her? I'll be right back.”

Sabrina gazed at the ripples of heat.
Bad things happen. But not as bad as if we weren't together, all of us, our family.