The Spire (8 page)

'I always liked playing,' Mark answered.

THE TWO DETECTIVES left.

'I don't care what they say,' Mark told Farr. 'I've got to find Steve.'

'That would be a mistake,' Farr said firmly. 'It's also too late. I'm sure they've already gone to his room. All you'd do is walk in on them and make yourself look bad.'

Mark felt the enormity of events crashing down on him, the world as he knew it spinning out of control. 'Then what do I do now''

'Stay out of trouble.' Farr's taut voice brooked no dissent. 'I have to tell Clark Durbin, and you're coming with me.'

T

HEY RUSHED TO D URBIN'S HOUSE ON FOOT. S TILL disoriented, unsure of his role here, Mark sensed that Farr meant to keep him close, away from Steve or Joe or the police. His face careworn, Farr said little. Only when they approached the door of the president's house did he pause, saying softly and sadly, 'That beautiful girl.' Then he stood taller, fully himself, and rapped the brass door knocker.

Opening the door, Durbin looked from Farr to Darrow, his reflexive half smile at odds with his expression of puzzlement. 'There's been a terrible tragedy,' Farr said in a low voice. 'Angela Hall, a black scholarship student. Mark found her at the Spire, strangled. The police are already there.'

Durbin stared at Mark, lips parting slightly. He had been president for three months. Yesterday at the Spire, when Mark had met him for the first time, his fleeting impression had been of a slight dark-haired man in his forties with a ready smile and warm blue eyes who gave off a jittery energy. Now his body seemed to sag; in his slack expression and softening chin, Mark saw only shock. For an instant, Mark compared his reaction to Farr's'Durbin seemed momentarily paralyzed.

'Come in,' he said haltingly. 'Please.'

Mark followed Farr inside. The one-story house was modern and light, with an open floor plan and tall windows that looked out on a patio and garden. Durbin waved them to a couch, sitting across from them with his hands clasped, his expression more focused. 'A student's lost her life,' he said. 'That's the worst thing that can hit any school. I need to hear everything you know.'

Farr took a moment to gather himself. 'That's why I'm here. Not many'if any'people know. By this afternoon everyone will. No matter the shock, you'll have to move quickly. But it's worth taking an hour now to design the best response.' Farr nodded toward Mark. 'From what I understand, this tragedy may have started with a party at the DBE house. Mark was there. He has a story to tell you that may bear on what you should do.'

Surprised, Mark stared at Farr. 'Go ahead,' Durbin urged Mark. 'Please.'

Facing him, Mark outlined the events, culminating in Angela's departure with Steve. He could not shake the sense of betraying his friend. But Durbin listened closely, his expression open and even kind. 'Thank you, Mark,' he said, then turned to Farr. 'Obviously, I need to address the school right away. The students will need a sense of calmness.'

'That's only part of it,' Farr ventured. 'The police know all this from Mark'no doubt they're questioning Steve Tillman right now. Inevitably, this story will be tinged with drugs, alcohol, and overtones of racism. It heightens the risk of frightening our students and our applicants, including minorities. How you react in the next twenty-four hours, and then the next few days, will help determine how bad that gets.' Farr leaned forward, saying gently, 'I've had a few more minutes to think about this. May I offer some suggestions''

To Mark, Durbin appeared freshly appalled by what he faced. 'Please.'

'First, call an all-school meeting for seven o'clock tonight'use the school's voice-mail system. Between then and now, phone Angela's mother to express our grief and ask what we can do. Call any leader of the black community you can find. Also our board chair and general counsel'you'll need their advice, and there'll be hell to pay if you don't take it. Especially about preventing a racial or town-gown conflict.'

Durbin held up his hand. Walking to a desk, he took out a legal pad and pen. Sitting again, he asked, 'How do you see this all-school meeting''

'The purpose'as you say'is to calm the campus. Offer the students grief counseling. Announce a memorial service for Angela, and a day of reflection in our classrooms on what this tragedy means to Caldwell. Invite student leaders in for meetings'including leaders of minority groups.'

'What about campus safety'' Durbin cut in. 'I should hire more security guards.'

'Agreed,' Farr responded with quiet force. 'But by itself that suggests that this place is dangerous. Have your VP for student affairs gather the statistics on previous campus crime rates'I've been here almost twenty years now, and I can assure you that it's pretty low. At tonight's meeting, tell the students that.'

Durbin shook his head. 'That would sound like I'm saying there's nothing to worry about. Plainly, there is.'

'Then why not announce a new campus safety program'tonight. A buddy system where students are encouraged to walk together. A ride system for women walking back to their dorms or sorority houses at night. Telephones every fifty yards or so, connecting students to the campus police. A new lighting system to illuminate the campus after dark.' Farr paused for emphasis. 'Let them know that you won't rest until you're certain'and
they're
certain'that this will never happen again.'

As Mark listened, it struck him that Farr's professorial persona was falling away, exposing the military officer he once had been, quick-thinking and decisive under stress. Durbin scribbled a few more notes, then looked up at Mark. 'I can't imagine how you must feel, Mark. Still, I'd appreciate any thoughts you have.'

For a moment, Mark studied a patch of sunlight on Durbin's tan carpet. 'Okay,' he said finally. 'Don't just have this meeting. You should also go where we live'you, or the deans, or maybe some professors. Give every student you can find someone they can talk to. A lot of the guys I know won't relate to some psychologist they've never met.'

Slowly, Durbin nodded. 'Good advice.'

'Also,' Farr added, 'you should announce another student forum in one week's time, to tell them what you've learned and whatever else you're doing. It's no good that you're in charge unless the students, board, faculty, alumni, and community know that. For the sake of us all, it's imperative that you emerge from this tragedy as the leader Caldwell needs.'

To Mark, Farr's implicit warning was unmistakable. Whatever else Durbin did in the future no longer mattered'his presidency would be judged, favorably or not, based on how he handled Angela's murder. 'I need to get our board chair on campus,' Durbin said to Farr. 'Also Ernie Sims'it might be good to remind everyone that our thirty-person board actually includes an African-American. As soon as possible, the three of us should visit Angela's family.'

'If you like,' Farr offered, 'I'll go with you. I'm the head of the committee that gave Angela her scholarship. More than that, I'm the only one of us who actually knew her.' A look of sadness crossed Farr's face. 'Consoling her family is the hardest job we'll have, and one of the most critical. For the sake of Angela's mother, we can't seem distant from her dead daughter. And to be brutally practical, we don't want her suing the school.'

Once again, Mark absorbed Farr's ability to anticipate potential consequences. 'We'll need more outreach to the black community as a whole,' Durbin said. 'The town seems pretty segregated, and we can't let the blacks in Wayne fester in their own resentment and isolation.'

Durbin was right, Mark knew. Blacks seldom went downtown; even at the high school, black and white kids rarely socialized. Racial attitudes, even if unspoken, were often adversarial. Uncomfortably, Mark thought of Steve Tillman and his casual, if infrequent disparagement of black classmates. 'True enough,' Farr was saying. 'Then there's our alumni. As you well know, their donations help fund this place. You've got to reassure them quickly.' Farr's tone became grim. 'A big problem with
that
is the media. A white-on-black murder, if that's what we have, will be catnip for them.'

Durbin frowned at this. 'I'll get our public relations people on this right away.'

'It's over their heads, Clark. Hire an outside PR firm with experience in crisis management. We need to bombard the media and our funders with Caldwell's story'the low crime rate, the new campus safety program, how we've gotten our own kids through this, how much we welcome minorities.' Farr's tone was pointed. 'They should also provide talking points for our admissions people. You can take it to the bank that our applications will drop. What we have is not just murder, but a combustible mix of race and drugs and alcohol.'

'There we can point to our substance abuse policy,' Durbin said. 'It's one of the first things I asked about in the interview process.'

'Did they mention that our policy is bullshit'' Farr inclined his head toward Mark. 'Any student can tell you that this place is awash in alcohol and drugs, including the DBE house. I should know: I'm on the student-faculty disciplinary committee, and every so often some drunk or drugged-out kid destroys a dorm room or precipitates a charge of date rape. That's the only time we stop pretending there's no problem.' He turned to Mark. 'You said Angela's brother was at the party. He deals drugs out of the Alibi Club, right''

Mark hesitated. 'Yeah, he does.'

'Not much we can do about
that
,' Farr told Durbin. 'Angela's mother owns the place. That leaves the fraternities.'

'That's tougher, Lionel. A lot of the alumni I'm meeting feel like their fraternity was the heart of their experience at Caldwell.'

'And a lot of them are morons,' Farr responded. 'Here's what I'd recommend. Conduct a full investigation of that party. Warn the presidents of every fraternity that their parties are no longer off-limits to school authorities. If fraternities tolerate drugs or underage drinking, it's not the particular student who'll go'it's the fraternity. Any kid caught once with drugs will get compulsory drug and alcohol counseling; twice, they'll be suspended; three times, they'll be expelled. Make sure they know what date rape is, and that any assault on a woman, of any kind, will be dealt with harshly.

'It's clear and it's fair, Clark. More alumni will praise you than resent you. Ask the ones who complain if they care more about the idiots in their old fraternity than about the reputation of the school and the safety of its students.' Farr's tone was quiet but firm. 'Tell them your job is to make Caldwell College the safest place on earth. Then do it.'

Durbin frowned. 'I came here to raise money from them, not to beat them over the head. This is my first presidency; fund-raising's my skill set. The board hired me to launch a new capital campaign and beef up our endowment.'

'You can't right now,' Farr said with muted impatience. 'Not for at least a year. It's not just that there's been a murder after a fraternity party. In all likelihood, Angela Hall was strangled by a student at this college.'

Durbin raised his eyebrows. 'Specifically, Steve Tillman''

At once, Mark began to fear that Steve might be railroaded to save the school. 'Perhaps,' Farr answered. 'If so, it's possible that sex'consensual or nonconsensual'may become part of the mix. I know one thing for sure: if any student is charged, we have to expel them. Neither the school nor its students can live with anything less.'

Abruptly, Durbin stood. 'I need to get started. For the next few hours, Lionel, I want you at my side.'

Farr nodded. 'Of course. Just let me talk with Mark for a minute.'

'Please.' Facing Mark, Durbin said, 'You've been through a lot since yesterday, when we first met. I know you have Professor Farr to lean on. But if there's anything I can do for you, at any hour, just call.'

Even through his fog, Mark felt this man's essential goodness. 'Thank you, sir. I will.'

Farr touched his arm. 'I'll walk out with you.'

The two of them stopped on the front porch. In the driveway, a pale, uncoordinated-looking boy of about twelve was shooting baskets without much skill, oblivious to all that had happened. Mark turned to Farr and saw that his eyes suddenly looked tired and deeply sad. 'It's hard to believe,' he murmured, shaking his head. 'She was full of promise, full of plans. I had so much hope for her.' Looking intently at Mark, he asked, 'Are
you
all right''

Mark tried to imagine the next hours and days. 'I guess so. But there's no way Steve could have done this. I'm starting to get scared for him.'

'I know,' Farr responded gently. 'But there's no help for that now'or for any of it. There hasn't been, ever since you found her.'

Slowly, Mark nodded. Farr placed a hand on his shoulder. 'There's one more thing,' he admonished quietly. 'No one should know about this meeting. Whatever Clark Durbin does should be seen as his initiative. He's the president, and now it's his time to be a leader.'

F

ILLED WITH DREAD, M ARK WALKED SLOWLY ACROSS THE campus to the football stadium.

A quiet gathering of students ringed the Spire, cordoned off by yellow tape. Mark kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone he passed. Within hours, he had gone from hungover to adrenalized to how he felt now'stunned and disoriented and filled with disbelief, yet constantly seeing Angela's stricken face. He felt a deep sadness for Angela, and a deep worry about the meaning of what he had witnessed the night before. His only hope now was that this tragedy, whatever its cause, would not touch Steve Tillman.

Like Mark's own, Steve's room was on the first floor of the worn gray football stadium, a relic of the twenties. But the entrance to Steve's dimly lit corridor was marked with yellow tape saying CRIME SCENE. From inside echoed male voices, too authoritative to come from students. Mark felt a nightmare closing around him.

He needed air. Caught between the need to find Steve and the desire to be alone, he chose a place where he and Steve sometimes went'a section of bleachers on the fifty-yard line where, concealed by night, he would sit with Steve while his friend smoked pot. These sessions were more common, Mark reflected, since Steve had torn up his knee and, it seemed, plunged into despondency. Now Mark hoped that this had not awakened something worse.