Death of the Ayn Rand Scholar Page 19

  Jillian had even written in her notes: ‘collective rights over corporate rights to profit.’ That was what she’d remembered, and why she’d dug-out these notes. They’d squared with (albeit the exact opposite) of the Rand-related notes from her freshman English class. “Not bad,” she thought.

  Her dad answered the phone. “Hi Jilly,” he answered, happy at first. Then his tone changed. “Is everything OK?”

  After she’d read through her old notes, first on Atlas Shrugged and then from Professor Naremore’s class on regulation, Jillian decided that this was enough for the day on Professor Siemens’ case. She wanted to check-in with her dad, then eat, and end that portion of her work day by assembling the materials that she’d need for the Task Force meeting in the morning.

  Calling Dad was first. “Yes, Dad, everything is fine…”

  “You’re sure? Everything’s OK?”

  “Yes. I told Mom that I’d call to check-in with you. You know, now that I’m back working with Tempe and with Wes.”

  “Just trying to put your dad’s concerns to rest, l imagine.” He laughed. “Thanks for that.”

  “Your welcome. And yes, I don’t want you to worry too much…a little is OK,” she teased him.

  “Worrying about my daughter is my privilege and my responsibility,” he said, a statement that Jillian had heard him say many times. “Anything to report so far? Do you know whodunit?”

  “No, not yet, but we’re working on it…and you know, we will find out whodunit it, and whydunit,” she answered, repeating language she’d heard him use about crime fiction.

  ”But no prime suspect yet?”

  “No,” she answered, but even as she did so, she automatically flashed-on the people she and Wes had interviewed.

  “I did want to ask one question, Dad, and it’s about poetry?”

  “I guess this is because the victim is an English professor. Well, I’m always glad to help the constabulary…shoot.”

  “OK, so one of the people I’ve interviewed is an English professor named Billy Gilroy. I interviewed him because he called-in the crime…actually, a second person in English called independently. And…” she decided that she shouldn’t say more about his comments about Professor Siemens. “…anyway, he’s a poet, and I just wondered if you’d heard of him.”

  “Gilroy…let me think.” The line was silent while he thought. Then, “Yes, Jilly, I’ve heard of him. I just had to think for a second…he’s not especially well-known…and I don’t think I have any of his work.“ He was quiet again. “Ah…I’m pretty sure he also wrote a novel...one, for sure. I don’t remember the title...but I did read it. I’d describe it as one of those ‘English professor’ novels, you know, a novel written by someone who gets a salary and doesn’t have to worry about book sales…know what I mean?”

  “Yes,” she laughed. “Oh, and while I was reading about him, I saw a reference to another poet…named…” she checked her notes…”Fred Cavell. Apparently, Professor Gilroy studied with him. Ever heard of him?”

  “Oh yes. Fred Cavell is in a very different league. He’s a well-known poet, and he’s also written several pretty good novels.”

  “I thought that maybe you’d read me some of his poems. But, I wasn’t sure.”

  “You know, you’re absolutely right, Jilly. I think they were in a collection titled Carolina Harvest. He did those as a riff on Carl Sandburg’s Harvest Poems. Sandburg’s collection was about the Midwest back in the early 20th century, you know, ‘Chicago, city of big shoulders.’ Remember that?”

  “Yes, I’ve heard you read it many times.”

  “Right, well, Cavell’s collection is shifted both temporally and geographically…to the late 20th century, and to the south, more specifically, to North Carolina. A lot of Cavell’s poems essentially parallel those of Sandburg, but with a very different sensibility.”

  “I think you read some of them to Mom and me.”

  “I did…when he won the Pulitzer…this would have been maybe 10 years ago…maybe longer. Anyway, Cavell is the real deal. And tell me again, why did his name come up?”

  “Professor Gilroy studied with him. That’s all.”

  “I understand. I just wish you could have interviewed Fred Cavell…that would’ve been something. But, so in terms of this case, you’re back with Wes Webb and working out of Tempe Police?”

  “Yes, I’m partnering with Wes. Dad, this is just temporary, you know, because of Professor Siemens’ murder. The thinking is that the investigation should include someone who knows the campus community…so I’m ASU’s liaison with Tempe PD.”

  “Got it. And this professor who was murdered, she studies Ayn Rand, right?”

  “Yes. Have you heard of her?”

  “Only the stories in the paper…when ASU hired her. I was never that into Ayn Rand so I don’t know the literary critics who studied her work. I do know that during the latter part of her life, Rand was as much known for her philosophy as for her fiction. That’s why people have started reading her again…because of her economic philosophy…guess you’d say, her ideology.”

  Jillian smiled. Her dad’s comments were in line with what Professor Gilroy told her about Ayn Rand’s literary standing.

  The line was silent again. “You know, I think she also was involved in the McCarthy Hearings back in the 1950s.”

  “Was she a suspected communist?”

  “No, no, no…far from it…she was no Dashiell Hammett. Rand was a ‘friendly witness’ before the House Un-American Activities Committee. I think she was doing a number on Hollywood for being, you know, ‘pink.’”

  “As always, Dad, you’re the man when it comes to English-related stuff.”

  “That’s very true,” he laughed. “By the way, we’re cooking, but your mom is signaling: she wants to come on to say hi. Love you, Jilly.”

  “Love you, too.”

  As she cooked stir-fry and nuked left-over rice, Jillian’s mind went back to the interview with Susan Moser. Given the controversial side of Professor Siemens, the strong feelings that she’d heard from Professor Gilroy and from Professor Naremore, she was glad that the professor had had at least one really good friend…someone who missed her enough to cry over her. She also thought about the Professor’s dad.

  She had a glass of wine with the meal, a French rose, compliments of her mom, and listened to Pandora. She had to remember to write a note on her calendar: ‘dinner with Mom and Dad Saturday.’ They were going to Café Forte, Mom’s favorite restaurant over in Old Town Scottsdale. Speaking of mental notes, tomorrow after work was judo class.

  Jillian washed the dishes and returned to her office. She’d started a folder on ASU’s Sexual Harassment Task Force and wanted to review it. Wes was right: she’d been appointed to the Task Force when she was still at Tempe PD, and Al had wanted her to continue as a member after she moved to ASU PD.

  She sorted through the folder to refresh her memory on their work to date. The ASU Faculty Senate’s new ‘Zero Tolerance’ Policy was in the file—it was still a draft and under debate—as were minutes from Task Force meetings. She had printed these from a Google Doc site that was accessible by the Task Force members. The meetings were recorded and transcribed, and Sarah Wells, a lawyer from ASU’s Office of General Counsel who served as Chair of the Task Force, had seen to the availability of all relevant info. Jillian knew that Professor Siemens would come up at the meeting, so she outlined summary comments that she could share with the Committee…obviously, for now, the details about the investigation had to remain confidential.

  Jillian had done some homework on the Task Force early on, beginning while she was still at Tempe PD. She had pulled newspaper clippings on related stories, some about ASU and other universities, too. She had stories from The Arizona Republic and The New York Times. Al l had made it clear when he asked her to stay on the Committee th
at he took this very seriously. He’d told her that he didn’t want his department to be any part of these negative news stories. “If we’re in the paper,” he’d said, “I want it to be for doing our job…and doing it right.”

  Al was like Wes: both were very professional and wanted to do the job in a way that always put their departments in the best light. She knew that Al felt a professional responsibility to women who were raped or harassed, especially if they were university students and therefore under his department’s jurisdiction. He’d spoken both in public and to Jillian personally when he reassigned her to the Task Force about the ‘double victimization’ that women experienced in these cases: one, at the hands of the criminal, and another from their treatment by the criminal justice system. He’d told Jillian that he didn’t intend for ASU PD to be a part of the problem.

  Jillian believed in the Task Force, too, and wanted to be at her professional best at the meetings…informed and thoughtful. She wanted to be a good cop like Al and Wes, but as a woman AND as a recent university student, she felt totally committed to the Task Force’s work. This was even more the case because of the newspaper stories that she’d read about what happened to some of the student victims, and how ill-treated they’d been at the hands of their universities and their local police departments, especially when college athletes were involved. In a way, this reminded her of the notes from Professor Naremore’s class that she’d just reviewed…about how those with resources could make sure that the law didn’t apply to in them. It wasn’t right and it was unacceptable to Jillian.

  She thought that the commitment of everyone on the Task Force had intensified when the Me Too movement appeared. Now it was more than angry college students who were shining a bright light on sexism and its outcome. It was actresses and politicians and hotel workers and women in a lot of occupations who were speaking out, who were naming names, and demanding change. The Task Force Meetings had been serious from the outset, but now they had an even stronger resolve.

  Jillian tended to her clothes for tomorrow. She wanted to lo look professional and she didn’t want to think about it first thing in the morning. So…slacks, blouse, shoes, even a jacket…the whole ensemble.

  That prep completed, she decided to read until bedtime. She briefly thought of Atlas Shrugged, rejected the idea—she’d worked enough today—and picked up Y Is For Yesterday. Before she opened it, she thought about the changes in her life, including why she was even reading this novel. She found her place, then looked away again…she couldn’t believe Sue Grafton was gone…and before Z. And, the novel was about a sexual assault.

  CHAPTER 7

  Jillian left her condo earlier than usual because she wanted to be on time to the Task Force meeting. The walk from the Transportation Center on 5th, where she left the Jupiter, to the second floor of The Foundation Building was a quick one, so, she arrived ten minutes early to the meeting. Coffee (regular and decaf) were there, also hot water for tea…even a tray of large scones and a jar of Bonne Maman raspberry preserves, her favorite.

  This type of meeting wasn’t new for Jillian…she had attended some academic-type meetings when she was a student. As an undergrad, she was involved in planning an end-of-the academic year awards ceremony. That had been even more exciting because at the ceremony she’d received an award that carried a small scholarship. And a time or two, she’d covered for the undergrad rep to the Justice Studies Faculty Meetings. As a grad student, she’d helped plan a student research conference where she’d presented a summary draft of her masters’ project. She wouldn’t say that she enjoyed attending academic meetings, but she did take them seriously. She was prepared…she participated.

  Because she was early, Jillian was second to arrive…Sarah Wells was already there, setting-up. “Good morning, Jillian…Good morning, Sarah.” Well before the Task Force, they’d reached the ‘call me Sarah/call me Jillian’ level. As an attorney for ASU’s Office of General Counsel, Sarah had been on the committee that vetted Jillian when she applied for the Detective Sergeant’s position with ASU Campus PD. Sarah had been well prepared: she was familiar with Jillian’s resume—she’d even read the article in Feminist Criminology—and had posed challenging hypothetical questions to Jillian. Jillian had nailed the interview, indeed, she’d breezed through the entire process with flying colors. It helped that ASU had actively recruited her, and also that she’d already attended the state’s police training academy when she shifted from Research to Detective at Tempe PD. Not all campus police departments required a training academy, but ASU did.

  A couple of months after Jillian was on the job with ASU PD, she’ gotten an email from Sarah asking if she’d like to do coffee sometime. She was surprised, but answered yes. Sarah’s office was in The Fulton Foundation Building and Jillian was in the Campus Police Building, so they met halfway at the café in Hayden Library. Sarah, who was straightforward, said that she’d enjoyed meeting Jillian during the interview. She was married, but her husband, Zack, who was a district manager with a national clothing chain, was frequently on the road. They’d hit it off and had met for coffee twice more, and once had dinner in downtown Tempe. Jillian was game to have new women friends, too.

  One shared connection was that they’d both done their undergrad degrees at ASU, so they had a lot of common ASU/downtown Tempe knowledge. Sarah had a double major in Biology and Philosophy with a certificate in Bio-Ethics and Policy, and had then gone to law school at Georgetown University. Jillian knew a little about law school—she’d even considered it for a while—and knew that Sarah must have had very good grades and a very good LSAT to get in to Georgetown. Sarah had excelled at Georgetown: Law Review; top 5 in her class; a clerkship with a federal district judge. The law review experience is what had prompted her to read the Feminist Criminology article. She had returned to The Valley and worked in private practice for several years with a large Phoenix firm. Then, she had accepted the position at ASU even though it was a lot less money, because, as she put it, “I want to have a life.” She was 32.

  Sarah said, “I would ask what’s new with you, but of course I know…the whole campus knows. If it’s OK to ask, any progress?” Sarah was wearing a pale green suit, an off-white blouse, beige shoes with barely a heel, and minimal makeup. Her suit went great with her light brown hair.

  “No and yes. We’re interviewing people, but for now…” Jillian shook her head to finish the sentence. “We do expect that today or tomorrow we’ll start receiving detailed forensics reports. That’ll help. But for now, we’re just following our protocol.”

  “I heard that you were one of the first officers on the scene. Is that hard?”

  Jillian nodded ‘yes.’ Then said, “I know that it comes with the job…but you know, it’s horrible…and it’s…it just makes me mad.”

  “Well, I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this, Jillian, but I’m glad it’s you…if you know what I mean.”

  The two women stood facing each other in a comfortable silence, which was broken by Sarah. “Knowing you, I’m sure that you’ve already thought of this…but these people on the Task Force…they’re going to hit you with a barrage of questions…”

  Jillian nodded, smiled, and filled their coffee cups.

  Sarah asked, “Wanna share a scone?”

  Over the next five minutes, the other members of the Task Force trooped in. Interestingly, Cedar Lanning, whose office was in The Foundation Building, was the last to arrive…he was always late. He worked in ASU’s Office of Public Relations, so he was always busy, or at least that’s the impression that he conveyed.

  When people started arriving, Sarah, who was the Chair of the Task Force, was busy greeting everyone, so Jillian visited with Ersula Tenney for a while. They had a lot in common, too, including two degrees each from ASU. Ersula had a major in Women and Gender Studies, and Jillian had taken several electives in that program, so they’d had some professors in commo
n. And, Wes was right…Ersula was Jillian’s replacement when she shifted from the Research Division to being a detective at Tempe PD. In a way, even though she was a researcher and not a sworn officer, Ersula seemed like a ‘thrill of the chase’ sort of a person to Jillian. She didn’t ask Jillian anything about the Siemens case because she already knew all about it. To be fair, that was her job, but Jillian would not be surprised if Ersula also followed her career trajectory and left Research for actual police work.

  Professor Greg Farrell was in Political Science—Jillian remembered that now they were called ‘Politics and Global Studies’—and was a member of the Faculty Senate Committee that had drafted ASU’s Zero Tolerance Policy on sexual relations between faculty and undergraduate students. The policy, which was still being debated, was obviously relevant to the Task Force’s consideration. Jillian had known some Justice Studies students who’d had classes with him, so, after they were both appointed to the Task Force, she’d checked him out on the Rate My Professor website. He was a popular prof and apparently was considered to be ‘cool.’ He looked the part: shaved head; one ear ring; beard not quite a beard, but almost… It was obvious to Jillian that he wanted to chair the Task Force, or if not that, to at least run the meetings. However, Sarah was a powerhouse in her own way…and was fully in charge.

  Unlike Professor Farrell, Cedar Lanning didn’t try to run the meeting. He did, however, constantly drop names…especially President Davidos’ name...whom he always called ‘Jacques’…’Jacques this, and Jacques that.’ He wore a slim-fitting light blue suit, no tie, an open collar white shirt, and tan lace-ups with very long, Italian toes. He had slicked-back black hair.