I haven’t figured out what to make of the fact that he knew me, had seen me present a paper, but never mentioned it. Wasn’t it worth mentioning? And why do I seem to be in a state of perpetual turmoil about the things Giles Cleveland might have mentioned to me but didn’t?
Ten minutes before we were due at Dancey’s office, Giles called me. Would I please come downstairs and explain what all the fuss is about? Now he is sitting opposite me round the table, digesting the news bulletins I threw at him on our way there.
“Well, Anna, this question is not rhetorical.” Dancey glares at me. “Do you have any idea who might be responsible for the damage done to your office door?”
“No, sir, I do not. I suspect someone, but I have no evidence.”
“Dr. Lieberman.” Jerry Poplar clears his throat. He is a big man in a shirt a size too small for him, with two necks bulging over the collar. “Your reluctance to accuse an innocent person, or innocent persons, is commendable, but we are dealing with someone who has displayed considerable violent energy, and—not to scare you—considerable aversion against you. It is in your own interest to identify the culprit.”
“I have reason to believe that the department would not act against the person who is, if I may use the term, my prime suspect. Naming this person might harm me, but it would not lead to disciplinary action against…said person. Plus, I might be wrong. It is not in my best interests to name names.”
“Dr. Lieberman, it is in your very best interest not to obstruct justice!” Jerry is a little flustered at my speech.
“I never thought I would ever be in a position to say this to a police officer, but are you going to slap me with a subpoena?” And because I am smiling at him very sweetly, and because I am a pretty (argh!) young woman, and because he has a sense of humor, Jerry laughs.
“For not telling me who you think slapped a can full of fish against your office door? No, ma’am. As long as you’re not withholding actual information from us.”
I mentally cross my fingers and try not to think of Selena’s purple-and-yellow elbow, lined by crusty lacerations.
“No, sir, I have no actual information in this case. Besides, I have not been threatened with violence, unlike Natalie Greco. So your first priority should be to identify that culprit. Not that I am taking the herring lightly, of course. I was and am appalled.”
“Sorry—threatened with violence?” This is news to both Maxine and Jerry, and they both look to Dancey for information. Giles widens his eyes at me, and I could kick myself—but how was I supposed to know Dancey would keep that detail from the police?
“Professor Dancey, I believe you reported—let me see—” Maxine checks her file “—here: ‘scurrilous phrases, applied with spray paint to an office door and the opposite wall.’ You did not mention threats of violence.”
“No, because—threats of violence, goodness me, that does not adequately describe the facts at all!” I don’t suppose I will ever come closer to seeing Matthew Dancey blush and stutter. He will have my head for this.
“May we have the precise wording of the graffiti, please, sir?” Jerry clicks his pen into action.
“I’m sure I can’t remember. I think it had the word ‘whore’ in it again. I really can’t—”
Jerry and Maxine look at me.
“Sir, I can’t pretend not to remember,” I say to Dancey.
“Nobody is asking you to pretend anything!”
“Matthew…” This is the first time Giles speaks, and Dancey hears him.
“Very well,” I sigh. “Across the door it said WHORE in capitals; you can still see some of that because the paint hasn’t come off properly. And on the wall it said, ‘If a priest’s daughter defiles herself by becoming a prostitute, she must be bur—’”
“She must be what?” Jerry glances up from his notepad.
“It’s Leviticus twenty-one nine. ‘She must be burned in the fire.’ It’s about the rules for priests at the Temple.”
“And you were alarmed enough to look this up?”
“Um…no, I recognized it. I read the Bible.”
Jerry stares at me.
“Lieberman. Lieberman?”
“That’s a part of the Bible that we have in common,” I explain.
“Oh. Well, this is serious indeed, and more serious, I agree, than the fish. Sir, will you share your thoughts about…the fish?”
I am surprised that Dancey has any thoughts about the fish at all. He flicks through his own notes and informs me that Mr. Frank