The Blasphemer: A Novel (11 page)

‘Mahler.’

She turned it over again. ‘And who is Anton?’

‘His cousin in Geneva … A collector sent it to me for authentication.’

As Hai-iki read the letter the whites of her eyes enlarged. When she reached the end, her mouth was slightly open, exposing an arc of pearly teeth and pink, wet gums. ‘Is it genuine?’

‘Oh yes.’ Wetherby said this with a thin smile. ‘I have known of the rumour for years, but this is the first time I have found any written evidence for it.’ He stepped forward and took the letter back. ‘Now remember …’ He raised his index finger vertically, facing outwards, and pressed it gently to the student’s spongy lips.

a cognizant v5 original release september 20 2010

ALMOST THREE HOURS HAD PASSED SINCE THE SEAPLANE HIT THE
water. Greg was the first to realize this. ‘The flight from Ecuador takes under two hours,’ he said. The clear blue sky was now feathered with clouds and the water that had been warm at first was cooling rapidly. Daniel knew why. Although the Galápagos archipelago lies on the equator, the water around it is cold because of the Antarctic Humboldt Current. It gets colder still at night. Anyone in the water who hadn’t become shark food by morning would be close to death anyway from hypothermia. He thought it best not to share this information with his fellow survivors. Instead he announced. ‘I think I can make it to the islands.’

Everyone looked at him.

Had he not been feeling ashamed about deserting Nancy, he might not have volunteered so readily. He knew his chances of reaching the islands were remote.’ I swim every morning for half an hour – twenty-two lengths,’ he continued carelessly. ‘That’s a quarter of a mile. Besides, I’ve got fins.’ He held them up. No one else spoke. ‘I checked our position on the map before we went down. They’re in that direction.’ He pointed. ‘West. I need to follow the sun …’ He looked up; the sun was almost directly overhead. ‘… as it sets.’

‘Shouldn’t one of us go with him?’ Susie said.

Odd trickles of salt water were still coming out of Daniel’s nose; he snorted and pressed a finger against each nostril. ‘No, I’ll be fine.

Anyway, there’s only one pair of fins. The islands can’t be more than five or six miles away. As I get nearer to them, the currents should carry me in.’

‘I think we should stick together,’ the lay preacher said.

The African-American was the next to speak.’ If the guy want to risk it, it up to him. I got me a young family at home.’

Daniel and Nancy exchanged a look.

Greg swam up close to Daniel and said in a low voice. ‘If I don’t make it, can you tell my parents I love them? And that I’m, you know, that I’m at peace, or something.’

This was the point at which Daniel was supposed to tell Greg he
was
going to make it, that he should tell his parents himself. But he could not. He didn’t believe it. ‘Likewise,’ Daniel said, slipping his fins on and spitting to clean the mask. ‘Likewise.’

His T-shirt and life vest would protect his back from the sun, he figured, and the tall black man had handed him an Atlanta Braves baseball cap. This he put on back-to-front to protect his neck. He felt tired already and tried not to let the others see the way his arms were shaking. Greg noticed, grabbed a half-full plastic bottle of Lucozade that had floated to the surface and stuffed it into his life jacket. ‘How far really?’ he said in a muted voice the others could not hear.

‘Eight to ten miles, I should think.’ His teeth were chattering now. ‘But I’ll be fine. It’ll be OK.’

Greg thought about this for a moment. ‘That’s a long swim, dude,’ he said.

Not wishing to depart with this ominous observation hanging in the air, Daniel tried to make light of the situation, for Nancy’s benefit. ‘Do you think we’ll get any money knocked off the holiday for this?’

Nancy didn’t seem to hear. ‘Good luck,’ she said.

‘Don’t give up,’ Daniel said, holding her hand. He felt in his pocket for the ring box. It was gone. ‘I promise I’ll be back with help. Trust me. Try and keep the others.. .’ He couldn’t think how to finish the sentence. ‘Try and keep the others from drinking their own urine until I get back.’

Nancy gave a taut smile at this. ‘I’ll try.’

Daniel’s eyes slid away as Nancy sought them. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but he knew he would choke on the words. They seemed hollow now. Instead he gently cupped the back of her neck and bowed his head so that his brow was touching hers. ‘I can make it,’ he whispered. ‘Just stay alive.’ He then turned and swam away. For fifty yards he kept his arms by his sides, using his fins to propel himself and his snorkel to breathe, then he raised his head to check he was still swimming in the direction of the sun. After half an hour he turned to look behind him. The floats of the plane were no longer in sight. He shivered, as much from loneliness as cold.

AT ONE MINUTE TO FIVE, WETHERBY APPROACHED THE DOUBLE
doors of the Senate Room, his gown billowing behind him. As the minute ticked down, he composed himself. He had perfected, over many years, a look of unsmiling disapproval – at the frivolous, at the vulgar, at the pointlessly aesthetic. People expected it of him, and he did not like to disappoint. Today, he knew, he would have good reason to glower. The other male faculty heads would be gownless and wearing open-neck shirts under their jackets. Wetherby saw it as his moral duty to shame them. He was damned if he would allow his own standards to be compromised by the provost’s new informal dress code. For more than a century and a half, dons had worn gowns for the monthly Senate meetings and he was going to ensure the tradition was upheld, even if no one else was, even if everyone else thought him affected. He paused for a moment. Checked his watch. Counted down the final five seconds to the hour before opening the doors.

He was surprised to see all the other heads of faculty seated.

‘Afternoon, Larry,’ the provost said, holding up his arms and pulling a mock-guilty face that made his rubicund cheeks wobble slightly. ‘Didn’t you see the email I sent round?’

‘To which email do you refer?’

‘My fault. We had to start half an hour early because the commissioner here has to go on to another briefing at Whitehall. He has been talking us through the new emergency procedures for
campus.’ Moving his head rather than his eyes,Wetherby turned his gaze slowly towards a uniformed policeman holding a braided cap. The commissioner was standing next to a flip chart that had a floor plan of the north cloister of the college on it. The officer acknowledged Wetherby with a nod and a compact smile. Wetherby flicked out his gown. Sat. Stared at the provost’s open collar.

‘Now, where were we?’ the provost said airily.

‘I think I’d more or less finished,’ the commissioner said. He checked his watch and looked out of the window. ‘Better be going. My driver’s here.’ He shook hands with the provost and gave a couple of nods to cover the rest of the room.

‘We’ve been discussing how best to combat radicalization on campus,’ the provost said for Wetherby’s benefit. ‘How to infiltrate political groups, how to detect warning signs of Islamist extremism. I’ll fill you in later. Now. While I have you all here, I have some exciting news. We’ve been bequeathed some money by an alumni.’

‘Alumnus,’ Wetherby corrected under his breath.

The provost did not hear. ‘A considerable amount of money, in fact. On legal advice I can’t tell you at this stage who left it or how much they left because the family of the deceased are contesting the will. But the sum would be enough to pay for, say, a new library or theatre, a new sports hall, a gallery or museum, a new conference hall or a new lab perhaps. The only condition is that it must be open to the public. We would also be eligible for a building grant from the Heritage Lottery Fund which would match the bequest pound for pound. So.’ He clapped. ‘I’d like you all to go away and have a think about this and then put in your bids. Any other business?’

A secretary with a pageboy haircut checked the minutes. ‘There’s the zoology chair.’

‘That’s a formality, I think,’ the provost said, reaching for his pen. ‘No objections to Dan Kennedy getting it, are there?’

There was a brief silence before Wetherby cleared his throat softly. ‘I think it should be advertised.’

A dozen pairs of eyes turned to him. The provost spoke first. ‘Why?’

‘I believe European employment law requires it.’ He paused as he studied the faces of his colleagues. ‘Also, I am not sure Dr Kennedy even wants the job.’

The provost laughed. ‘Course he wants it.’

‘That is not my impression.’

‘Has he told you that?’

‘Not in so many words, but I know he has a lot of other commitments.’

‘Commitments?’

‘His extracurricular activities. Television. That natural history series he does.’

The provost drummed his fingers on the table. ‘What series? Why didn’t I know about this?’

Pamela Henton, the professor of biology, slapped her pen down on her notepad. ‘Look, Dan’s been effectively running the zoology department for the past six months. You can’t say he’s not committed.’

‘Oh, I do not doubt his commitment,’ Wetherby said through closed teeth. ‘And as you know I personally hold him in the highest regard as a colleague, and a friend.’ He studied the faces of the other dons again as if challenging them to disagree. ‘But I would feel it a betrayal of our friendship if I did not raise this matter with the Senate.’

‘Well, I would have thought he was the poster boy for our new approach,’ said Roger Eastman, a silver-haired history professor. ‘Have you seen that photograph of him on the college website, the one of him wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses?’

‘And designer stubble,’ Henton added with a grin.

‘I could not agree more,’ Wetherby said, raking a hand through the remaining strands of his hair; his tonsure was not visible from the front and this recurring, nervy gesture was designed to keep it that way. ‘He is most telegenic.’

‘I saw him walking around campus the other day, with his iPod and manbag and thought he was a student,’ Henton continued with a grin. ‘Besides, his brand of militant atheism is terribly fashionable at the moment.’

‘Like Marxism was fashionable, you mean?’ Wetherby said. ‘Yes, I can see that. It used to be terribly fashionable for middle-ranking academics to defend Mao and Stalin. Now that those heroes of atheism are out of fashion, Darwin has become the lad to follow. Darwin and Dawkins.’

Eastman was enjoying the light relief, too. ‘Did anyone see that graffiti outside the Student Union? “Dawkins is God”. Rather witty, I thought.’

‘Hilarious,’ Wetherby said in a voice heavy with sarcasm.

‘Come on, Wetherby. It was a reference to “Clapton is God” … You must remember that. When were you a student?’

‘Oh, I got the reference, and I do appreciate the wit involved in substituting the name “Dawkins” for “Clapton”, but it took the caretaker a whole—’

‘Dan’s activism on the environment is very current as well,’ Henton interrupted. ‘The students really respect him for it.’

Wetherby seized his moment. ‘As well they should. The man practises what he preaches. He told me the other day that he was planning to offset his global footprint for a trip to the Galápagos Islands by arranging for mahogany and cedar trees to be planted in, I think he said, the Bushenyi District of Uganda, as recompense for his flight to Ecuador.’

‘What trip to the Galápagos Islands?’ the provost said, his brow furrowing.

‘I presumed he was filming part of his next series there.’ Wetherby checked the date on his watch. ‘I believe he is there now.’ Professor Nick Collins, head of psychology, was looking at some notes. ‘I don’t know why we’re even discussing this. Dan’s academic record is exemplary.’

There was a pout in the provost’s voice. ‘I wouldn’t wish to make an appointment without the full backing of the Senate.’ He looked at Wetherby. ‘We shall advertise the post, but I don’t imagine there will be any better candidates.’ He scanned the room. ‘And would all heads of department kindly remind their staff that I’m not keen on moonlighting. Also, I need to know when staff are absent, for whatever reason. Now,’ he tapped his papers on the table.
‘I, too, have to leave.’ A dozen chairs scraped back in unison.

By the time the provost reached the door, Wetherby was at his shoulder, speaking in a low voice. ‘On the subject of security,’ he said, ‘what do you know about the guard on duty at the Porter’s Lodge today?’

‘Donaldson? Been with us for two or three years. Good man by all accounts.’

‘Not the accounts I have heard.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘One of the Chinese students has complained about him making racist comments.’

The provost came to a halt and turned to face Wetherby. ‘Christ, that’s all I need.’

‘He was making mock of her name.’

‘This is going to look bad. We’ll have to have an investigation. For form’s sake. Will you take care of it?’

‘Of course.’

‘But try and keep it quiet. We don’t want the press involved.’

‘Probably best to suspend him while the investigation is pending.’

‘Do whatever you think best, Larry.’ The provost caught a flicker of disapproval on Wetherby’s face. ‘You don’t mind me calling you Larry, do you?’

‘Not at all.’

‘I think the less stuffy we can make this place the better.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘I’m glad you told me about Dan’s television work.’

‘Perhaps I should not have.’

‘Don’t feel guilty because he’s your friend. It’s best I know these things.’

‘That is why I thought you should be made aware of his reservations about the job. He would never voice them himself.’ The thin smile. ‘You know Danny.’

THROUGH HIS MASK, DANIEL COULD SEE STINGRAYS AND GROUPERS
. He could also see pink marks on his skin: welts, grazes and weals where coral had scratched him. These, he knew, would attract sharks. He tried not to think about it and was relieved when a dolphin appeared and swam underneath him. Sharks don’t like to hunt when dolphins are around. He could concentrate on worrying about the jellyfish. They were everywhere and he was being stung constantly on his bare legs, each sting a cigarette burn.