Death of a Department Chair: A Novel

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105 9 Isn’t it fascinating that when one person from an underrepresented group takes a baby step forward, say, gets a competitive position, some entrenched and privileged person cries “Inferior qualifications!” or “Limited candidate pool!” Yet, when a member of the same group as the privileged person is given a job or wins an award, the same person falls all over him- or herself saying how qualified and deserving that person is. Actually, it’s not fascinating. It’s utterly boring and predictable. The Way of the World is pretty dull, really. Paula Fabian, on the treadmill at her health club, talking to a friend At home, Miriam’s feet slid soundlessly over the floor as she stepped from the bedroom, where Vivian slept soundly, into her of- fice. She couldn’t sleep; she couldn’t stop thinking. Marvin’s claim that Isabel had created a “climate of suspicion” particularly troubled her. For while Isabel might have been guilty of zealously hoarding power and making autocratic decisions, others around her augmented this culture of paranoia and envy as well. Unhappily , Miriam recognized that she and Bettina had recently contributed to that very culture by trying to incite one or more of her colleagues into revealing their motives at the party. Their conspiratorial approach abetted the habit of communicating by innuendo and insinuation, the very behavior which so irritated them when practiced by certain of their colleagues. It was increasingly obvious to Miriam that Isabel’s death, while very possibly committed by a single individual, nonetheless resulted from years of enmity and dishonesty involving a number of people. Social environments, like weather patterns, took shape over a period of time, gathering mass and momentum only when the right 106 ingredients enabled a potent alchemical shift. In fact, Miriam suspected that the motives around Isabel’s murder might possibly predate the victim’s tenure at Austin University. Not only had Isabel not shared warm memories of her mother or her past, but Miriam recalled how Isabel typically spoke disparagingly of the places she had lived before Austin. Miriam wondered if Isabel was one of those people who employed a scorched-earth policy about their lives: in each location, they made enemies or created a crisis that became untenable, propelling them to move on to the next place. The past became a repository of old grievances, bitter skirmishes, and unresolved relationships. Isabel had left Miriam at the first sign of distress, and she had never looked back. There was no attempt at resolution, only a desire to get away. Miriam smarted still from Isabel’s abrupt departure. Who knew how many hurt or angry people littered the landscape of Isabel’s forward march? Seated at her desk, Miriam drew out the notebook from the bottom right drawer. She picked up a pen and drew a border around the next empty page, doodling distractedly within its margins. How did Paula’s visit threaten the person who murdered Isabel Vittorio? That was the question—unless the two events were unrelated, which Miriam found almost impossible to believe. She began to jot down a few scant details, free associating on the page in a style similar to Gertrude Stein in her experimental work, Tender Buttons: A room. A square room. A room is white, white and light. A desk, a chair, a cabinet. Something and a chair. Something on the chair. A body. Just a body. At home. In a home. The body not at home. Another room. In another place. With a body. The body is, not was. Two bodies in two rooms at two times. One is and one isn’t. Do they like? Are they alike? And where? Where did they live? Before one died and the other didn’t. 107 Miriam stopped writing. Had Paula and Isabel known each other in the past? Perhaps they had a history she knew nothing about. She stepped over to her bookcase and drew out a members’ directory of the Modern Language Association. Looking up the two scholars, she found that Paula’s Ph.D. degree was from Northwestern, Isabel’s from Stanford. The directory didn’t list their B.A. or M.A. degrees. Miriam switched on her computer; she had summary bios of all faculty in her department in a file marked “fac c.v.s” and a file of pertinent facts on the finalists for the current search...