the Third Twin (1996)

Berrington hesitated and looked to Quinn for guidance. Quinn stood up. “Sir,” he said, addressing Jack Budgen, “the witness shouldn’t be called upon to speculate.”

Budgen nodded.

Steve said. “But this is an informal hearing—we don’t have to be constrained by rigid courtroom procedure.”

Jane Edelsborough spoke for the first time. “The questions seem interesting and relevant to me, Jack.”

Berrington threw her a black look, and she made a little shrug of apology. It was an intimate exchange, and Steve wondered what the relationship was between those two.

Budgen waited, perhaps hoping another committee member would offer a contrary view so that he could make the decision as chair; but no one else spoke. “All right,” he said after a pause. “Proceed, Mr. Logan.”

Steve could hardly believe he had won their first procedural dispute. The professors did not like a fancy lawyer telling them what was or was not a legitimate line of questioning. His throat was dry with tension. He poured water from a carafe into a glass with a shaky hand.

He took a sip then turned again to Berrington and said: “Ms. Freelander knew more than just the general nature of Dr. Ferrami’s work, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“She knew exactly how Dr. Ferrami searched for raised-apart twins by scanning databases. This is a new technique, developed by her, known only to you and a few other colleagues in the psychology department.”

“If you say so.”

“It looks as if her information came from within the department, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“What motive could a colleague possibly have for creating bad publicity about Dr. Ferrami and her work?”

“I really couldn’t say.”

“But it seems like the doing of a malicious, perhaps jealous, rival—wouldn’t you say?”

“Perhaps.”

Steve nodded in satisfaction. He felt he was getting into the swing of this, developing a rhythm. He began to feel that maybe he could win, after all.

Don’t get complacent, he told himself. Scoring points is not the same as winning the case.

“Let me turn to the second claim you made. When Mr. Quinn asked you if people outside the university had commented on the newspaper story, you replied: “They certainly did.’ Do you want to stick by that assertion?”

“Yes.”

“Exactly how many phone calls did you receive from donors, other than the one from Preston Barck?”

“Well, I spoke with Herb Abrahams—”

Steve could tell he was dissembling. “Pardon me for interrupting you, Professor.” Berrington looked surprised, but he stopped speaking. “Did Mr. Abrahams call you, or vice versa?”

“Uh, I believe I called Herb.”

“We’ll come to that in a moment. First, just tell us how many important donors called you to express their concern about the New York Times allegations.”

Berrington looked rattled. “I’m not sure anyone called me specifically about that.”

“How many calls did you receive from potential students?”

“None.”

“Did anyone at all call you to talk about the article?”

“I guess not.”

“Did you receive any mail on the subject?”

“Not yet.”

“It doesn’t appear to have caused much of a fuss, then.”

“I don’t think you can draw that conclusion.”

It was a feeble response, and Steve paused to let that sink in.

Berrington appeared embarrassed. The committee members were alert, following every cut and thrust. Steve looked at Jeannie. Her face was alight with hope.

He resumed. “Let’s talk about the one phone call you did receive, from Preston Barck, the president of Genetico. You made it sound as if he were simply a donor concerned about the way his money is being used, but he’s more than that, isn’t he? When did you first meet him?

“When I was at Harvard, forty years ago.”

“He must be one of your oldest friends.”

“Yes.”

“And in later years I believe you and he set up Genetico together.”

“Yes.”

“So he’s also your business partner.”

“Yes.”

“The company is in the process of being taken over by Landsmann, the German pharmaceuticals conglomerate.”

“Yes.”

“No doubt Mr. Barck will make a lot of money out of the takeover.”

“No doubt.”

“How much?”

“I think that’s confidential.”

Steve decided not to press him on the amount. His reluctance to disclose the figure was damaging enough.

“Another friend of yours stands to make a killing: Senator Proust. According to the news today, he’s going to use his payout to finance a presidential election campaign.”

“I didn’t watch the news this morning.”

“But Jim Proust is a friend of yours, isn’t he? You must have known he was thinking of running for president.”

“I believe everyone knew he was thinking of it.”

“Are you going to make money from the takeover?”

“Yes.”

Steve moved away from Jeannie and toward Berrington, so that all eyes would be on Berrington. “So you’re a shareholder, not just a consultant.”

“It’s common enough to be both.”

“Professor, how much will you make from this takeover?”

“I think that’s private.”

Steve was not going to let him get away with it this time. “At any rate, the price being paid for the company is one hundred and eighty million dollars, according to The Wall Street Journal.”

“Yes.”