Gabriel's Rapture (Gabriel's Inferno 2)

“What did your lawyer say?”

“I decided to meet with Jeremy alone.”

Julia sat bolt upright, the water sloshing around her. “What? I thought you told your lawyer about the complaint so he would accompany you.”

Gabriel leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Jeremy hired me. I consider him a friend. I thought it was more likely that we could cut through the bullshit and deal with the issue if I didn’t bring my lawyer.”

Julia’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What did he say?”

“Christa claims that I tried to initiate a sexual relationship with her on a number of different occasions, including meetings that we had on and off campus. She mentioned our interactions at Starbucks and at Lobby.” His eyes shifted to Julia’s.

“She’s also accusing me of punishing her by rejecting her thesis proposal and threatening to have her dismissed from the PhD program. She claims that after she spurned me, I made her life hell.”

“But it’s all lies. She was the one harassing you.”

“Exactly, and I said as much. Jeremy was quite cross. He told me that I should have come to him immediately and filed a complaint. Obviously, my claim is not very credible at this point, but there are a couple of things that Christa did not take into consideration.”

“Such as?”

“Her academic file. Jeremy and I had at least two discussions about her poor progress over the course of last semester. He was well aware of the fact that she was struggling. Notes from those discussions, along with copies of her work, are in her file. Also, Paul was present during some of my interactions with Christa. I suggested that Jeremy speak with him, along with Mrs. Jenkins.”

“Paul was with me in Starbucks the day you met with Christa. She told us she was planning on persuading you to take her to Lobby—that she was going to be exchanging more than names with you that evening.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“I forgot about that conversation, or I would have mentioned it earlier. Paul and I were having coffee and Christa came in before you arrived. She was bragging about how she was going to seduce you.”

Gabriel stroked his chin, deep in thought. “And Paul heard her say this?”

“Yes,” said Julia, fighting a smile. “I guess the Angelfucker might turn out to be a guardian angel.”

Gabriel scowled. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. What else did she say?”

“Not much. We saw you meet with Christa, but we were too far away to hear what you were saying. Her body language seemed pretty obvious. She was trying to flirt with you, and you scolded her. I could tell Professor Martin that.”

“Absolutely not. You’re too involved as it is.” He scratched at his chin once again. “Jeremy asked that I not speak to Paul about Christa. The situation is a bit touchy because Paul is working for me, but Jeremy agreed to talk to him. It would be best if you didn’t speak to Paul about this, either. The less said on the topic the better.”

“He doesn’t like Christa. One of the first things he ever said to me was that she wanted to become Mrs. Emerson. He knows she was after you.”

Gabriel grimaced. “I reminded Jeremy that I approved Christa’s dissertation proposal back in December, after giving her numerous chances to fix it. Let’s hope that when he talks to Paul, he’s able to grasp a clear picture of what actually happened.”

Julia closed her eyes, resting her head back in the bathtub. She knew that they could rely on Paul to tell the truth. Despite his antipathy to Professor Emerson, he wouldn’t give credence to Christa’s false allegations.

Gabriel stood up. “There’s one other thing I need to tell you.”

“What’s that?” Julia asked, eyes still closed.

“Jeremy asked if we were involved. And I said—yes.”

She opened her eyes, staring up at him. “What?”

“I told him that we didn’t get involved until the Christmas break.” Gabriel’s expression grew tense.

“Did he believe you?”

“He seemed to, but he was angry. He told me I should have come to him immediately. He said that he was obligated to report me to the Dean for failing to follow university policy.”

“Oh, no.” Julia reached for Gabriel’s hand. “What are we going to do?”

“He said that because of our other troubles, he isn’t going to muddy the waters—for now. But he was adamant in telling me that he wasn’t going to cover things up.”

Gabriel leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Don’t worry about Jeremy. I’ll handle him. While you’re finishing your bath, I’ll update my lawyer so we can plan our next move.” He smiled and turned to leave.

“Gabriel, there is one more thing. Well, two more things, actually.

“Soraya is filing a complaint against Christa, on my behalf, arguing that she targeted me maliciously.”

“Good. Maybe that will cause her to rethink her actions.”

“And in my meeting with Nicole yesterday she mentioned that you weren’t in therapy anymore.”

Gabriel saw Julia’s expression, one of irritation mixed with sadness, and his shoulders slumped.

Chapter 22

In the grand scheme of things, Gabriel’s failure to mention the fact that he’d stopped going to therapy was unimportant. Or so Julia believed. They argued about it briefly, but both of them were too worried about their troubles with the university to do more than that.

Gabriel received a terse note from Jeremy the following week, indicating that he’d interviewed both Mrs. Jenkins and Paul. Other than that, he and Julia didn’t receive any communication from the university.

David Aras spent his Friday night alone in the office of his house with a bottle of Jameson whiskey. It was not unusual for him to do so. In his position as Dean of Graduate Studies he often brought work home. On this particular evening he found himself mired in a very tricky, very sensitive situation.

Miss Peterson’s harassment complaint had been challenged by the testimony of more than one witness. However, the academic fraud complaint against Miss Mitchell had alerted him to a possible case of fraternization between Julia and Professor Emerson. The problem was that the evidence was contradictory.

According to the information passed on by Professor Martin, Paul Norris had painted a glowing picture of Miss Mitchell and her character. As the whiskey burned his throat, David wondered if all women Mr. Norris came in contact with had mysteriously sprouted wings or if he simply had a weakness for young women from Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania.

(Wherever the hell that was.)

According to Mr. Norris and Mrs. Jenkins, Miss Mitchell was a timid young woman who was disliked by Professor Emerson. Mr. Norris went further to claim that the professor had fought openly with her in his seminar.

Subsequent to the confrontation in class, Emerson had approached Professor Picton to supervise Miss Mitchell’s thesis, citing the fact that she was a friend of his family as the reason why he could no longer continue to supervise her. Here is where David was puzzled.

Professor Emerson hadn’t objected to Miss Mitchell’s admission to the program, knowing that he was the only professor who directed theses on Dante. If there was such an obvious conflict of interest, why hadn’t he objected? Or declared the conflict of interest to Professor Martin at the beginning of the semester?

The files on Professor Emerson and Miss Mitchell did not make sense. And David did not like it when things did not make sense. (For his universe was nothing if not sensical.)

As he pondered the evidence, he inserted a flash drive into his computer. He opened the single folder on the drive and began scanning through the emails that had been culled obligingly from Professor Emerson’s account by someone in the Information Technology office. He adjusted the parameters to include only those messages that had been sent to or received from Miss Mitchell, Miss Peterson, Mr. Norris, and Professor Picton.

In a few minutes, David found something that surprised him. On his screen, were emails that had been sent before the end of October 2009. The first email had been written by Professor Emerson to Miss Mitchell:

Dear Miss Mitchell,

I need to speak to you concerning a matter of some urgency.

Please contact me as soon as possible. You may telephone me at the following number: 416-555-0739 (cell).

Regards,

Prof. Gabriel O. Emerson,

Associate Professor

Department of Italian Studies/

Centre for Medieval Studies

University of Toronto

The second email was sent by Miss Mitchell to Professor Emerson in response to his message:

Dr. Emerson,

Stop harassing me.

I don’t want you anymore. I don’t even want to know you. If you don’t leave me alone, I will be forced to file a harassment complaint against you. And if you call my father, I will do just that. Immediately.

If you think I’m going to let an insignificant thing like this drive me from the program, then you are very much mistaken. I need a new thesis director, not a bus ticket home.

Regards,

Miss J. H. Mitchell,

Lowly Graduate Student,

On-Knees-More-Than-The-Average-Whore.

P.S. I will be returning the M. P. Emerson bursary next week. Congratulations, Professor Abelard. No one has ever made me feel as cheap as you did Sunday morning.