The Campus Trilogy (65 page)

When she had finished her exposition, we all sighed. ‘Ah, yes,’ Ewing said. ‘I see what you mean!’ Then ensued a half hour
discussion
in which we looked at the rules relating to the powers of the Visitor at other institutions. At this point Miss Upton
demonstrated
her mastery of information retrieval. She opened up her laptop computer and within seconds all the relevant information was downloaded from the central Quality Control Agency. Eventually Ewing crossed out a couple of sentences from the St Sebastian’s regulations, and made copious notes in red ink in the margins. Then he looked up at Sloth. ‘We shall want this altered,’ he said. Sloth smiled wanly and nodded his agreement.

Ewing was satisfied. He leaned back in his chair and said, ‘I think that’s it, Provost. Everything else seems in good order. Thank you for coming.’

Sloth led me down the stairs. He was triumphant. ‘You see what I mean, Harry,’ he said. ‘I think we’ll pass with flying colours.’

‘I hope so.’

‘We’ve only got to tackle the question of examinations and the role of the externals and then we’ll be done.’

‘I heard that a university can’t pass this kind of inspection unless the team is satisfied that the arrangements for external examiners are in apple-pie order …’ I spoke tentatively.

‘Oh I think we can put our trust in John Pilkington,’ said Sloth as he turned back to return to the office.

As I walked towards the exit of the Old College, I bumped into Magnus. He looked self-conscious. ‘Have you been with the inspectors?’ he asked.

‘I have … It seemed to go all right.’

‘Did you meet a Miss Dorothy Upton?’ He was curiously
diffident
.

‘Yes of course. She’s one of them. She also came to the house for dinner on Sunday night.’

‘What was she like?’ he asked.

‘Why this sudden interest?’ I was puzzled. ‘I thought she was delightful – very jolly and approachable. But it’s clear that she’s like a terrier after a rat if there’s a problem with a document.’

Magnus sighed heavily. ‘I knew her when she was an
undergraduate
. She was reading Semitic languages at Somerville when I was doing my doctorate. We were generally thought to be a bit of an item …’ He blushed. ‘My aunt Ursula was very keen on her.’

I was interested. I had no idea that Magnus had a lost love. ‘What went wrong?’ I asked.

‘She thought I was sloppy in my approach to Aramaic tenses. Her work was always impeccable. She got the highest
congratulatory
first that the department had ever given and she could not reconcile herself to what she called my “slovenly approach”.’

‘Golly!’ I said.

‘I’ve always been rather sad about it,’ confessed Magnus.

It was snowing harder when I stepped out into the street. I put on the black fur hat that Victoria had bought me several years ago when we had gone to Moscow for a theological conference. As I picked my way home, I thought about my role in this charade of an inspection. I could not make up my mind.

Perhaps it was my duty to tell the Quality Control team the truth about Flanagan’s flagrant disregard of all rules, regulations and procedures. After all I was a Christian clergyman and, as a general principle, clergy should tell the truth. As Visitor, surely it was also my prime responsibility to ensure honesty and fair play within the institution.

On the other hand, if I did tell the inspectors the real facts, it was not impossible that they would close the place down. It would not be just Magnus and Felix and the other academics who would lose their jobs. The cleaners, gardeners, cooks and porters would also face dismissal. The university was the largest employer in St Sebastian’s, even bigger than Arrowsmith College. The consequences of its closure would be appalling for the whole area. As Provost of the cathedral, arguably my
responsibility
encompassed the welfare of the whole city. How could I let all these people down?

I was facing a serious dilemma. Despite forty years of research into the history of ethics, I was in a complete muddle. I had no idea at all where my duty lay.

Late on Friday morning Magnus rang me up in a state of
agitation
. He told me that extraordinary things were happening at the university and he wanted to discuss them. I was busy through the afternoon, but I arranged to meet him after Evensong in the town. We would find each other in the Mitre, an old-fashioned tea-shop which was run by two of our most faithful ‘Holy Dusters’.

By this stage, the snow was beginning to melt and the streets were covered with greyish slush. Magnus was already occupying a table near the window when I arrived. He had poured himself a cup of tea and was eating a sizeable sticky bun. ‘I’ve got news for you,’ he announced after I had taken off my wellingtons and had greeted the shop’s two proprietors. ‘It’s all very strange,’ he said. ‘No one understands it, but apparently the Quality Control Inspectors left early.’

‘When did they go’? I asked. ‘I thought they were staying until late this evening.’

‘So did everyone else. But this morning, after being
incarcerated
with Pilkington for a couple of hours, they suddenly packed up their papers and left.’

This did not sound good, but I tried not to let my misgivings show. ‘Perhaps they finished early. Sloth gave me the impression on Wednesday that it was all going very well.’

‘Who knows?’ said Magnus. ‘It’s just so unexpected. Yesterday I plucked up courage and made contact with Dorothy Upton. I took her to tea at Flanagan’s and it was just like old times. She told me quite distinctly that they were staying until this evening. It’s not like her to leave without saying good-bye.’

‘I’m sure she’ll get back in contact,’ I consoled my old friend. ‘After all she teaches at Brambletye University. It’s not far from here. You only have to send her a letter.’

‘But something must have happened,’ persisted Magnus. ‘I ran into Marigold Campbell, the Vice-Chancellor’s secretary, just as they’d left. She was very agitated. She told me that Sloth is in a frighful state and Pilkington has gone off on sick leave.’

‘Why? Was he suddenly struck down?’ I asked.

Magnus shook his head. ‘All Marigold would tell me is that he emerged from his interview looking shattered. He disappeared while Marigold was preoccupied with making arrangements for their sudden departure. Then, very soon afterwards, he
telephoned
from the medical centre to say that the doctor had ordered him to be off work for at least a month. He’ll be sending in the medical certificate this afternoon.’

‘Oh dear!’ I said. ‘It all sounds very odd. What can be wrong with him?’

‘Marigold also told me that the four of them flatly refused to stay for lunch. They were barely polite. They told her to order a taxi and then they left, just like that. They didn’t even say
goodbye
to Sloth.’

‘How’s he taking it?’ I wondered. ‘Something extraordinary must have happened. He was convinced that it was all going so brilliantly …’

‘Perhaps Pilkington suddenly realised that he was sickening for leprosy,’ Magnus grinned. ‘That’s why he shot off to the
doctor
and why the inspectors fled for their lives. The whole
university
will have to be in quarantine.’

I shook my head. ‘I think there may be a more prosaic
explanation
,’ I said.

The next day, late in the afternoon, I caught the train from St Sebastian’s for Oxford. I was due to preach on Sunday morning at St Jerome’s College. An old Cambridge friend was currently the chaplain there, and he had invited me to come and give a
sermon
in the chapel. I was to stay overnight in the college guest room and we would have dinner together.

I checked in at the porters’ lodge and was led up a winding
staircase
to a comfortable room overlooking the quadrangle. Lights glimmered from the buildings opposite and I could see students going to and fro. I felt nostalgic for my own time as an
undergraduate
. Then I unpacked my bag and met my host at a small Italian restaurant across from Christ Church. At nine o’clock we said “Goodnight” to each other and he went home to his wife.

Making my way back to St Jerome’s, I was surprised to hear someone calling my name. I turned round and saw Professor
Ewing. He was trying to control a large Airedale who was
straining
on a lead. ‘Harry,’ he said, ‘I thought it was you. I didn’t expect to see you in Oxford.’

I explained that I was due to preach at St Jerome’s the
following
day. ‘I think we ought to have a chat,’ he said. ‘Have you got time to come back to my rooms for a drink?’

As we made our way through the dark Oxford streets, Ewing apologised for the abrupt departure of the inspection team the previous day. ‘It was quite terrible,’ he said. ‘Most unfortunate. I’ve never experienced anything like it. But we had no alternative.’

Professor Ewing was a Fellow of Balliol. When we arrived at his staircase, the Airedale was unleashed and he shot up the stairs to sit outside his master’s rooms. The set itself was magnificent, panelled in oak and lined with books. There were also numerous engravings of the Inns of Court and a few legal caricatures. He motioned that I should sit in a tattered leather armchair next to the gas-fire and he poured me a generous glass of whisky. Then he paced the floor as he described his team’s final disastrous encounter with St Sebastian’s University.

‘Late Thursday afternoon,’ he said, ‘we were due to look at the external examiners’ reports. Dorothy was a little late for the
session
. She came in flushed and smiling. Apparently she had just had tea with an old flame in the university restaurant and it had all gone rather well. She was in an exceptionally good mood and, looking back on it, I think her judgement must have been a little unbalanced by her social engagement. Anyway she said that she had been amused by the names of some of the examiners and she read them out to us.’

‘Well, Hermione Fairweather can be a bit abrasive as I’m sure you noticed at that marvellous dinner your wife so generously gave to us. But she’s very shrewd. She thought that it was all too much of a coincidence. It couldn’t be the case that the examiner for the Dance department was called ‘Lightfoot’, and that a Dr Driver oversees professional Golf. Or that a Professor Eatwell examines for the Catering department.’

‘I see,’ I said. ‘Yes. It does sound a little far-fetched.’

‘I have to say, Harry, that up to that moment everything was going very well. I had been worried about this particular
inspection
. You won’t know, but I was a member of the team that had
examined Fandonegal University five years ago. It was all very iffy. The whole place was dominated by an obvious crook called Flanagan. Our team was very suspicious of his documentation, but there was no proof of foul play, so there was nothing we could do about it. But when I heard that Flanagan was now
Vice-Chancellor
of St Sebastian’s …’

‘Not any more …,’ I interrupted,

‘Well let’s just say I thought it would be prudent to have Dorothy Upton as one of our number.’

‘Why Miss Upton?’ I asked.

Professor Ewing smiled wryly. ‘She was the copy-editor of my first book twenty-five years ago. I was just a lecturer then and I was commissoned to do a Dictionary of Jurisprudence for Oxford University Press. I spent nearly two years writing it, but it took at least a year more to complete the copy-editing. Dorothy kept sending me pages and pages of queries. I think there must have been over a thousand.’

‘I understand she got a very top first in Semitic languages,’ I said.

‘Oh she was quite the brightest undergraduate of her day. Nothing gets past her. You should see her do
The Times
crossword! So, you see I was determined to include her when we visited St Sebastian’s. Anyway, after Hermione had pointed out the
unlikelihood
of all those names, she insisted that she did a thorough check. We postponed the session until Friday morning, and she spent all of Thursday evening on her computer. I don’t understand how this information retrieval business works. But she told us the next day she couldn’t find anything about any of these so-called examiners. She was very much concerned that they did not exist.’

‘Oh dear!’ I said again. ‘So you asked Pilkington when you saw him?’

‘We did. We went through everything. And I’m afraid I was compelled to be quite severe. At first he denied it all and tried to bluff his way through. He got on his high horse and said he was insulted that his integrity was called into question. But Dorothy wouldn’t have it. She showed him conclusively that there were no such people as Driver and Puttick and Starr and Playright … Playright indeed! Did the man think we were morons?’ Ewing took a long draught of his whisky.

‘Then Brian Senior took over. He’s a lawyer as well as an accountant. He said that the documents of the Quality Control Agency were official. If Pilkington had deliberately falsified the records, he was putting himself in danger of a perjury charge. It wasn’t just a matter of losing his job. It would go far beyond the university.’

‘How did he react to that?’ I asked.

‘He collapsed completely and the whole story came out …’

‘What did he say?’

‘He blamed the previous Vice-Chancellor for everything. Well of course, I could believe that. When Flanagan set up his new degree programmes, he ignored all the established regulations and procedures. Believe it or not, no examiners were ever appointed. Pilkington then said that he was instructed by your Acting Vice-Chancellor to write all the reports himself. Which he did. He said he was only obeying orders.’

‘That isn’t an excuse, as we all know …,’ I said.

‘Indeed it is not. The upshot is that we can’t trust any of the
university
’s documentation. What it comes down to is that we have no confidence whatever in any of St Sebastian’s quality control
procedures
. And we are submitting a report saying just that ….’