The Campus Trilogy (34 page)

‘He was furious,’ said Mary. ‘He didn’t even thank me. He just said something like “Oh detail, detail!” and stormed off.’

Magnus had been listening intently as Mary told her tale. ‘Dr Glass is right,’ he pronounced. ‘The problem is that
Chantry-Pigg
will deny the whole thing if you confront him. Ultimately it’s your word against his and in this country you are innocent until you are proven guilty.’

‘But he can’t get away with it,’ Rosalind objected. ‘And he’ll do it to other girls.’

‘I shouldn’t think Mary is his first victim,’ pointed out Magnus.

Mary and Rosalind looked at each other. ‘A couple of girls have dropped out of the choir already,’ they said.

Magnus explained how the grievance procedure worked. ‘The university authorites are obliged to investigate any student
complaint
. But they will decide that you simply don’t have any proof. It isn’t even as if you can go to Clifford Maxwell or someone and threaten to sell your story to the newspapers. Even the tabloids won’t take a story without firm evidence. They’re too frightened of an expensive libel action.’

‘Who’s Clifford Maxwell?’ Rosalind asked.

‘He’s a famous publicist,’ I told her. ‘Believe it or not I was at school with him. He makes millions for his clients because the
newspapers love juicy scandals. They’d adore your story … I can just see the headlines – “Frisky Friar’s Fornicating Fun”. But without definite proof that you’re telling the truth, even the most scurrilous rag won’t take the risk. And St Sebastian’s University certainly won’t.’

‘But you believe us, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I do.’

‘Anyway,’ Magnus cut in, ‘the only thing you can really learn from this is not to be alone in a room with Chantry-Pigg. That’s my advice.’

‘I wish we could help more,’ I said.

When Mary and Rosalind had left, Magnus snorted. ‘Well, well, our holy friar isn’t as chaste as he pretends. Could have fooled me. I thought he preferred choirboys.’

‘You don’t think there’s anything we can do?’ I asked.

‘Nope. Chantry-Pigg will deny everything. And blame the girls. Better to keep quiet.’

‘I do feel sorry for Mary.’

‘Rosalind is quite tough, I think.’

‘But she wasn’t the one Chantry-Pigg tried to seduce.’

‘Of course not. No doubt he chooses his victims carefully. Anway, it’s not really about sex. It’s about power.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Mary’s an attractive girl. But she challenged the friar – that business about the pre-Socratic philosopher showed him up. And he didn’t like it. So he tried to humiliate her.’

‘But he tried to kiss her,’ I objected.

‘Yes, but he terrified her. He wanted to show her who was boss. Sexual harassment is a form of bullying. I’ve read about it.’

‘How do you know about this, Magnus?’

‘Really, Felix. You’re as bad as Harry Gilbert. You both know a lot about philosophy and ethics. But neither of you has a clue about human beings.’

That afternoon I had promised to do some shopping for Emma before I went home. I was standing in the queue in the
delicatessen
when I saw Chantry-Pigg’s housekeeper, Danielle Bousset. I had not bumped into her since we had met at the
inaugural
service in the university chapel. After what I had heard from Mary and Rosalind, I was embarrassed to come in contact
with her again, but I was fascinated by her purchases. She was asking for a half-kilo of their best smoked salmon, a small jar of beluga caviar and a bottle of the most expensive balsamic vinegar. The bill was more than a hundred and fifty pounds.

I turned away as she passed and hoped she did not notice me. I really did not want to have a chat. How could a friar, who was vowed to poverty afford to eat like that?

When I arrived home, I was curious to know more about our new chaplain. I turned on my computer, went to Google, and typed in his name. There were over a hundred and fifty entries, mostly dealing with his pamphlets on clerical dress. I could find no references to money, sexual irregularities or harassment.

Then it struck me that there might be something about Danielle Bousset. To my astonishment there were more than eight thousand entries. Most seemed to be connected with Jacques Bousset, the film director who had won many prizes for his
En Bon Point
. It seemed that Jacques had been married to a woman named Danielle. There had been an acrimonious divorce and the French newspapers had been full of it. Since there was a more famous Danielle Bousset, there seemed little chance of my finding out anything about the chaplain’s housekeeper from the internet and I was about to turn the machine off.

Then I caught sight of a photograph. It was illustrating one of the more lurid articles and it was of the same woman who had stood before me in the queue in the St Sebastian’s delicatessen. There was no doubt about it. Chantry-Pigg’s housekeeper was the ex-wife of Jacques Bousset.

I turned back to the Google list of articles. Finally I picked one in English from a respectable magazine. It was a lengthy
biographical
study of Mrs Jacques Bousset. Apparently Danielle had been a student in Paris which was where she had met her husband. At that stage he had been a young, avant-garde film director.

Rejecting the nihilism of French existentialism, Danielle became a devout Roman Catholic. She trained as a radiographer and supported her husband financially for twenty years while he directed several unimpressive films. There had been no children. Danielle had longed for them and her religion forbade
contraception
, but Jacques would not hear of it. He said he was dedicated
only to his art. Then came his most famous film –
En Bon
Point
. It was wildly successful at the Cannes Film Festival and ultimately won the Oscar in Hollywood for the best foreign
language
film.

It was the end of the marriage. While Bousset was shooting the film, he was having an affair with the 21-year-old star. By the time Danielle found out, the girl was pregnant and Jacques was demanding a divorce. Despite her deep resistence, Jacques had little difficulty in persuading the Roman Catholic authorities to grant an annulment to the marriage on the grounds of Danielle’s supposed unwillingness to have children. He had also done his best to argue that the marriage was over before he had started shooting the film and that therefore she was not entitled to any of the proceeds.

At that point she had gone to the courts. Numerous friends
testified
that the fundemental idea behind
En Bon Point
was hers. They told of Jacques’ cruelty, his neglect of his wife and the real story of their childlessness. Even in the world of movies, it was a major scandal. In the end, the French divorce courts gave her a very generous settlement. There was no doubt that Danielle Bousset was a very rich woman. So here was the explanation. The house in Winchester Close must belong to her. She did not need to make money from her tenant and she could afford to conduct
housekeeping
on a very lavish scale. But how had she met Chantry-Pigg? Why was she willing to do this for him? What exactly was their relationship? And what did the order of friars feel about all this? I could find no answers to these questions on the internet.

I printed out the article and phoned Magnus. He was still in his office. ‘You won’t believe what I’ve discovered,’ I said. ‘Danielle Bousset, Chantry-Pigg’s housekeeper, is the ex-wife of Jacques Bousset, the famous film director.’

‘Never heard of him.’

‘He directed
En Bon Point
,’ I said.

‘Oh I went to see that with Harry.’ Magnus was interested. ‘He loved it. He’s always been sensitive about his weight and a film about the sexiness of fat men was just his cup of tea!’

‘You’re missing the point,’ I said rather desperately. ‘She’s loaded. That’s why Chantry-Pigg can live in such a grand house. It must belong to Danielle.’

There was a pause. ‘It’s hard to imagine they’re lovers … what do you think?’ Magnus asked.

‘I don’t know, Magnus. It’s a mystery.’

‘I wonder what she sees in him,’ Magnus pondered.

‘Well, he’s religious. Maybe that’s what she needed after Bousset.’

‘Skinny, pompous, self-important and phoney,’ said Magnus. She can’t possibly need that. That man shouldn’t be living in a luxury house. He ought to be defrocked and drummed out of his order.’

We had given our best advice to Mary and Rosalind. There was nothing to be done about Chantry-Pigg’s behaviour and I tried to forget the incident. Then one afternoon a week later, as I was marking essays, there was a knock on my door. Both girls asked if they could see me. ‘You might want to contact Dr Hamilton,’ Rosalind said triumphantly. ‘We’ve got something to show you.’ I phoned Magnus and he agreed to come over – he had just
finished
his Hebrew class and said he needed a drink.

When he arrived, I put on the kettle, but he indicated that something stronger was required. I poured him a glass of sherry and offered the same to the students. ‘So what’s the news?’, he asked.

Rosalind pulled a small tape-recorder out of her bag and put it on my desk. ‘You said we needed evidence. So we got some.’ She then turned it on and we listened to a muffled conversation beginning with a female shriek.

Then there was a rather noisy kiss. ‘Father Crispin,’ came Mary’s outraged voice, ‘I don’t think you ought to do that …’ There was the sound of clothes being ruffled and another louder shriek. ‘Please, Father Crispin, don’t do that …’ pleaded Mary’s voice.

Then it was Chantry-Pigg’s turn. ‘Don’t be silly, you know you want it, you know you do … Stop wriggling! Do what you’re told!’ There was another confused sound, perhaps of a chair falling over and the sound of running. In the background, Chantry-Pigg could be heard roaring: ‘Come back, you stupid
little
bitch …’

Mary dissolved into tears. ‘He was horrible,’ she said.

Rosalind put her arm round her friend. ‘You were really brave!’ She patted her shoulder and looked at us, ‘We’ve got him, haven’t we? They’ll have to believe us.’

Magnus nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That’s pretty conclusive. What do you want us to do?’

‘We don’t know. What does happen next?’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘I think the best course of action is to see the Vice-Chancellor. Do you want me to go as your teacher?’ I asked.

The girls nodded. They handed over the cassette tape, finished their sherry and left. I promised I would tell them the outcome.

The next day I made an appointment to see Flanagan. He had several meetings, but said I could come for five minutes. When I arrived, he had a stack of books on his desk about
gambling
as well as a travel guide to Las Vegas. ‘This is for you mate,’ he said handing me the guidebook. ‘Sylvester’s excited about your visit.’ Unlike me, Flanagan was entirely committed to the enterprise. On his desk was a miniature roulette wheel with the Mancini logo.

‘Vice-Chancellor,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to talk to you about
something
serious.’

‘Yes, yes. Now I’ve been in touch with the planning officer. There’s not going to be any trouble about the squash courts and I want to talk to you about the interim arrangements for the Great Hall ….’

‘No, Vice-Chancellor, it’s nothing to do with Casino Management. It’s about Father Chantry-Pigg.’

Flanagan changed gear. ‘What’s the problem with that
windbag
?’ he asked.

‘You need to hear this.’ I took out the tape recorder. ‘He’s molested one of my students, a young woman. She came to me to complain. I said that there was nothing to be done. Although I believed her, I pointed out that he would deny it and it would be her word against his. Anyway, he tried again and this time she was carrying a tape recorder. The evidence is quite conclusive. Do you want to hear it?’

All of a sudden, Flanagan looked ten years older. He shrunk in his seat, but he nodded his head. I played the damning evidence.

‘Play it again,’ he demanded as soon as I turned it off. We
listened
a second time and he shook his head. ‘I’m sorry Felix. This is all too reminiscent of my childhood. There’s nothing you can’t tell me about the depravity of the clergy. I experienced it all
first-hand
.’ Then he brightened. ‘Well at least I can get rid of this bastard.’

He thought for a minute. ‘It must be completely water-tight. According to the university statutes, in cases like this I have to set up an investigative panel presided over by the Visitor.’

‘But the Visitor is the Provost of the cathedral. He’ll support Chantry-Pigg.’

‘He can’t. Not with that evidence. Then Chantry-Pigg must have his immediate line-manager. That’s the Trustee of the Chapel, that stupid sheila Jenny Sloth. She’ll do what the Provost tells her. Then, to make sure, the third member must be a senior university officer. Let’s have Patricia Parham. She’s the Dean and she won’t stand for any nonsense.’

We both smiled. Flanagan became serious again. ‘My
secretary
will organise a day next week for the hearing. She’ll be in touch. Tell your little girl not to worry. She’ll have to tell her story, but she can bring in a friend and you should be there too. Tell her that the university will not tolerate this type of behaviour. We’re on her side.’

The Vice-Chancellor moved fast. Mary and Rosalind had to
submit
a formal complaint against Chantry-Pigg. This would be accompanied by a transcript of the tape recording of the incident. Father Chantry-Pigg, they declared, had twice made advances to Mary in the chapel vestry. The tape recording was of the second encounter which they submitted as proof of their allegation. They also explained that after both occasions they had met with Magnus and me. As soon as Flanagan received this, he set up the hearing.

As their philosophy teacher and a senior member of the
university
, I was to be their representative. The Provost, in his
capacity
as Visitor of the University, would preside and the other members of the panel would be the Dean – Patricia Parham – and the Trustee of the Chapel Committee –Jenny Sloth. The meeting was to be held in the Vestry since this was where the alleged events had taken place. The Vice-Chancellor made it clear that he wanted to be kept informed at every stage.

Chantry-Pigg was asked to respond to Mary and Rosalind’s allegation. His defence was a classic. He first outlined in detail
his educational background and religious training. He pointed out that he had been a student of the current Archbishop of Cannonbury when the Archbishop had been Principal of Highminster Theological College. He was certain, he stated, that the Archbishop would be willing to write a testimonial on his behalf. During his ordination training, he had been awarded the Anselm medal for a dissertation on the subject of clerical
vestments
; subsequently he had written a number of pamphlets and learned articles about this sadly neglected topic. Once he had joined his order of friars, he had been appointed spiritual
director
to the Anglican order of the Little Sisters of the Pyx in Oxford. During his career, he stressed, there had never been a word of complaint against him nor a single hint of impropriety.

After five pages, he turned to his short career at St Sebastian’s. He acknowledged that both Mary and Rosalind had been active members of the choir, but he had always been worried about Mary. There was a danger with impressionable young girls, that they became over-enamoured with their pastor. It almost
certainly
was the expression of a need for a father-figure, which sadly, all too often in these degenerate days, they lacked at home. Mary had made it clear that she was in love with him. She hung about the chapel constantly and always wanted to discuss his
sermons
. On one occasion she was particularly persistent and insisted on exploring some philosophical detail. He had had no alternative but to rebuff her. No doubt this current complaint was the result of her feelings being hurt on that occasion.

In any event, he insisted, nothing had happened in the chapel vestry. The transcript could only be a forgery. There could be no genuine tape recording of a conversation with Mary, because none had taken place.

Mary was incensed by this defence. As it happened, she came from a very secure loving home and she lived with both a mother and a father. In any event, Chantry-Pigg was telling one lie after another. She was very distressed to discover that a clergyman could be so dishonest. As she said to me, ‘I don’t see how I can ever go inside a church again. I will never be able to trust the priest.’

On the day of the hearing, I arrived early. I had never been in the vestry before. It was next door to the chapel and shared the
same musty smell. It was panelled in light oak. A modern
crucifix
hung on the wall over a Victorian flat-top mahogany desk stacked with papers and an array of prayer-books. In the corner was a large wooden table surrounded by six chairs that had been arranged for our meeting. At one end of the table was placed an old Welsh Eisteddfod throne carved with a dragon and the date l899. It was intended for the Provost and I wondered how the university had acquired it.

Just before eleven, Mary and Rosalind arrived. They looked very smart. Mary had on a dark red sweater and a black skirt; Rosalind was in an emerald green trouser suit. Both were
wearing
discreet make-up. Patricia was the next to enter just as the cathedral bell was striking the hour. She looked as though she had been working on her car – there was grease on the cuffs of her denim jacket. Underneath she was wearing a mauve woolly sweater, slightly grubby blue jeans, and large silver hoop
earrings
. She was followed by Jenny Sloth, trim in a navy blue suit and high heels. Jenny did not look friendly.

We assembled ourselves around the table and waited in silence. It was ten minutes before the Provost and Chantry-Pigg came in together. The friar was wearing his brown habit and the Provost was in cassock and dog collar. They had obviously been in conference together and I began to feel uneasy.

The Provost took possession of the Eisteddfod chair. He extracted gold-framed spectacles from his top pocket, and he opened a file that he brought with him. ‘Perhaps we should begin with a prayer,’ he intoned. I looked at Patricia who made a face. He then recited a lengthy invocation in which he asked God to guide us in judgement. The details escaped me, but he found it necessary to enlist the help of all the saints in Heaven to look down on our deliberations.

Chantry-Pigg did not look as subdued as I would have liked. He sat wrapped in his robe staring at Mary and Rosalind. The girls were uncomfortable under his gaze. ‘Ladies and
gentlemen
,’ the Provost began, ‘we are here to examine the complaint lodged by these two students against the chaplain of this
university
, Father Crispin Chantry-Pigg. You have before you the accusation made by these undergraduates and Father
Chantry-Pigg’s
response. Now before we go any further, I must point out
that in these kind of proceedings, tape recorded evidence is inadmissable. My fellow panellists must wipe from their minds the contents of the transcript which they have received among their papers. Furthermore I must insist that the original tape recording be handed over to me immediately and I will destroy it.’

Mary and Rosalind looked shocked. ‘But Provost,’ I objected, ‘the statement made by these students is based primarily on this tape recording.’

‘Tape recordings are notoriously suspect.’ The Provost was adamant. ‘There is every opportunity for distortion and forgery. How can we know for certain whose voice is on the recording? These girls may have made use of an imposter. I cannot have a man’s reputation destroyed on the basis of such unreliable
evidence
. Now I will not discuss the matter further. That is my ruling on the subject.’

Patricia was not having it. ‘I must object,’ she interrupted. ‘You cannot simply dismiss the tape recording. At the very least, the panel should hear it and be allowed to judge for itself whether it is a recording of a real happening.’

‘That is precisely my point, Madam Dean.’ The Provost was not going to budge. ‘The panel will not hear it. Nor should they consider any transcript of its contents. As I said, tape recordings are inadmissable. There can be no guarantee whose voice is upon them. Therefore I require that the original be handed over to me immediately.’

‘But …’ Rosalind interjected.

‘There is no “but”, young lady. I tell you quite frankly I am appalled that a privileged young person like yourself should bring such a case against your very distinguished chaplain. It is profoundly unlikely that any friend of the dear Archbishop could behave in the way you have alleged. I believe you have used one of your evil-minded friends to imitate Father Chantry-Pigg. I can only hope you can show the panel better evidence than you have produced so far. I have been assured that the tape recording is a malicious forgery. If this proves to be the case, then in my
opinion
you and your friend should be expelled immediately from the university. You will have made damaging and potentially
libellous
charges against a man of God and such behaviour cannot go
unpunished. That will be my recommendation to the
Vice-Chancellor
.’

‘I’m sorry, Provost,’ Patricia was persistent. ‘You appear already to have made a judgement about this case. And we haven’t yet had an opportunity to consider it.’

‘We are considering it. As chairman, it is my view that the
students
’ accusation is itself under scrutiny. They have offered no proof of what they allege.’

‘But they have provided a tape recording of what took place,’ I said.

The Provost looked at me with loathing. ‘I’m sorry Dr Glass. You are clearly incapable of listening to what I have just said. The evidence you refer to is inadmissable. It must be set aside. It has no place in these proceedings. I cannot expect someone of your background to understand. Of course I have the greatest respect for the Jewish people, but you cannot begin to appreciate what an admirable man you have in Crispin Chantry-Pigg. He comes from a distinguished clerical family. I believe you people do at least recognise the importance of family. He has an
impeccable
record as a caring and effective pastor. How could I explain to the dear Archbishop that this man’s reputation and career was destroyed on the word of two evil-minded young Jezebels. It would be a calumny.’

Without a pause the Provost took out a letter from his file; I could see that there was a gold mitre on the top and the address of the Archbishop’s palace. He handed out copies and cleared his throat. ‘As you will see, this is the original testimonial for Father Chantry-Pigg when he came to St Sebastian’s from no less an authority than the Archbishop himself. Now,’ he continued, ‘this meeting is not to be adversarial. Both parties shall be given an opportunity to state their case. Then the panel may
cross-examine
their statements.’

Mary and Rosalind looked shocked. ‘But Provost,’ Mary said, ‘without the tape recording, it is just my word against his.’

‘That is true. But you should have known this.’

‘But Dr Glass told us that our tape recording was essential to our case. Without it, you won’t believe us.’

‘Well, that may be. Now, do you have anything to add to what you wrote in your statement?’

Mary’s answer was inaudible. She was on the edge of tears. The Provost then turned to Chantry-Pigg. ‘And you, Father Crispin, is there anything you would like the panel to hear at this stage?’ Chantry-Pigg was not one to lose the opportunity of making a speech. He opened his mouth, but Patricia cut across him.

‘Forgive me, Provost,’ she said, ‘you are deliberately making it impossible for Mary to make a case. I would like to know what evidence you would accept for misbehaviour on the part of the clergy. Would a video be enough? Presumably you would say that it was set up with actors. Would independent witnesses be sufficient? I imagine that unless the Archbishop himself were the source of the testimony, you would not accept it.’

‘I am not dealing with theoretical questions, Madam Dean. The point is that these two girls have made a serious accusation against one of God’s ministers, but they seem to have no evidence whatsoever for their claims.’

Crispin Chantry-Pigg seemed to have forgotten that it was his conduct which was on trial. He put up his hand, ‘Mr Chairman, if I may … Obviously it grieves me to hear such a charge. But it is very important that everyone should be allowed to speak. We have not yet heard from my valuable Trustee of the Chapel, Mrs Jenny Sloth. If she might be permitted …’

The Provost immediately turned to Jenny. His manner was ingratiating towards her. His tone softened. ‘Of course. The admirable Mrs Sloth. What do you think of this sad matter, my dear?’

Jenny was overwhelmed. She blushed and then she looked to Chantry-Pigg for guidance. He smiled reassuringly at her. She turned back to the Provost. ‘All I can say, Provost, is that Father Crispin is the most wonderful man. He has done so much for the chapel. I just can’t believe that these ungrateful little hussies can bring themselves to tell such lies about him. But of course girls nowadays …’ She wiped away a tear. It was clear she was
thinking
of Joy Pickles. ‘Girls nowadays … they have no respect for the bonds of sacred matrimony, running about half-dressed, stealing other women’s husbands …’

I had heard enough. ‘I was under the impression that Mr Chantry-Pigg is not married,’ I said.

‘Nonetheless,’ interjected the Provost, ‘He is a wonderful addition to our community, and we are indeed grateful to have him here. Thank you for your contribution, Mrs Sloth.’

Patricia was determined to fight to the last. ‘I’m sorry, Provost, but I insist that we hear the tape recording and judge for
ourselves
.’

‘I am not going to satisfy your prurient interest, Dr Parham’ said the Provost, ‘and there is an end of it. The original recording and all copies must be given to me. Now!’ He glared at Mary and she meekly handed over the tape recording. ‘Thank you. That is the end of the matter. We will hear no more of it.’

Patricia was furious, ‘If you refuse to allow us to hear it, then I will formally object to the procedure you have adopted. As Dean of the university, I am totally opposed to this course of action, and I want my objections noted.’

‘That is your right, Madam Dean.’ The Provost put on his gold spectacles again and read out the regulations regarding the
disciplinary
procedure. The panel members were to make a
recommendation
concerning any action to be taken. The majority decision would prevail and there was no appeal against it.

He then asked Jenny Sloth for her view. She said that of course Father Chantry-Pigg was innocent so nothing should be done. She only regretted he had been put through such a horrible
experience
. Patricia reiterated her objections and said advice must be sought concerning the admissablity of the tape recording. The Provost then said he agreed with Jenny Sloth. Their two opinions consituted a majority. Father Chantry-Pigg was thus exonerated of all charges and it was to go on record that the university authorities had complete confidence in its chaplain.