the Third Twin (1996)

He scratched his head worriedly. Berrington never socialized with, his academic colleagues—he preferred the more glamorous company of political and media types. But he knew Jack Budgen’s background. Jack had retired from professional tennis at the age of thirty and returned to college to get his doctorate. Already too old to begin a career in chemistry, his subject, he had become an administrator. Running the university’s complex of libraries and balancing the conflicting demands of rival departments required a tactful and obliging nature, and Jack did it well.

How could Jack be swayed? He was not a devious man: quite the reverse—his easygoing nature went along with a kind of naivete. He would be offended if Berrington lobbied him openly or blatantly offered some kind of bribe. But it might be possible to influence him discreetly.

Berrington himself had accepted a bribe once. He still felt knots in his guts whenever he thought of it. It had happened early in his career, before he had become a full professor. A woman undergraduate had been caught cheating—paying another student to write her term paper. Her name was Judy Gilmore and she was really cute. She ought to have been expelled from the university, but the head of the department had the power to impose a lesser punishment. Judy had come to Berrington’s office to “talk about the problem.” She had crossed and uncrossed her legs, and gazed mournfully into his eyes, and bent forward so that he could look down the front of her shirt and glimpse a lacy brassiere. He had been sympathetic and had promised to intercede for her. She had cried and thanked him, then taken his hand, then kissed him on the lips, and finally she had unzipped his fly.

She had never suggested a deal. She had not offered him sex before he had agreed to help her, and after they had screwed on the floor she had calmly dressed and combed her hair and kissed him and left. But the next day he had persuaded the department head to let her off with a warning.

He had taken the bribe because he had been able to tell himself it was not a bribe. Judy had asked him for help, he had agreed, she had fallen for his charms, and they had made love. As time went by he had come to see this as pure sophistry. The offer of sex had been implicit in her manner, and when he had promised her what she asked she had wisely sealed the bargain. He liked to think of himself as a principled man, and he had done something absolutely shameful.

Bribing someone was almost as bad as taking a bribe. All the same, he would bribe Jack Budgen if he could. The thought made him grimace in disgust, but it had to be done. He was desperate.

He would do it the way Judy had: by giving Jack the opportunity to kid himself about it.

Berrington thought for a few minutes more, then he picked up the phone and called Jack.

“Thanks for sending me a copy of your memo about the biophysics library extension,” he began.

There was a startled pause. “Oh, yes. That was a while ago—but I’m glad you found time to read it.”

Berrington had barely glanced at the document. “I think your proposal has a lot of merit. I’m just calling to say that I’ll back you when it comes before the appropriations board.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“In fact, I might be able to persuade Genetico to put up part of the funding.”

Jack seized on that idea eagerly. “We could call it the Genetico Biophysics Library.”

“Good idea. I’ll speak to them about it.” Berrington wanted Jack to bring up the subject of Jeannie. Maybe they could get to her via tennis. “How was your summer?” he said. “Did you get to Wimbledon?’

“Not this year. Too much work.”

“That’s too bad.” With trepidation, he pretended he was about to hang up. “Talk to you later.”

As he had hoped, Jack forestalled him. “Uh, Berry, what do you think about this crap in the newspapers? About Jeannie?”

Berrington concealed his relief and spoke dismissively. “Oh, that—tempest in a teapot.”

“I’ve been trying to call her, but she’s not in her office.”

“Don’t worry about Genetico,” Berrington said, although Jack had not mentioned the company. “They’re relaxed about the whole thing. Fortunately, Maurice Obeli has acted quickly and decisively.”

“You mean the disciplinary hearing.”

“I imagine that will be a formality. She’s embarrassing the university, she’s refused to stop, and she’s gone to the press. I doubt she’ll even trouble to defend herself. I’ve told the people at Genetico that we have the situation under control. At present there’s no threat to the college’s relationship with them.”

“That’s good.”

“Of course, if the committee should take Jeannie’s side against Maurice, for some reason, we’d be in trouble. But I don’t think that’s very likely—do you?” Berrington held his breath.

“You know I’m chair of the committee?”