The Reveal: A Detectives Seagate and Miner Mystery (Book 6) by Mike Markel Read Free Book Online Page A

an
instant, then raised his eyes to meet mine. “I was the chair. I signed off on
it. But the idea—and the money—came from the upper administration. They saw the
named professorship as an opportunity to improve our brand.” He air-quoted that
last word.
    “Your brand?”
    He raised his chin slightly. “That’s what we’re
calling it these days. Our reputation. Our visibility. It’s part of our
marketing strategy.”
    “What happened at the department meeting last
week?”
    He looked surprised, then shook his head. “It was
a little more dramatic than most of our meetings. That’s all.” He paused, then
nodded, as if he hoped that would be enough.
    “What happened?”
    “It was one of those discussions about our
mission. The direction of the department. Things got heated.”
    “Professor, we need you to be a little more
specific. Who said what?”
    “Virginia was arguing for a sharper edge—”
    “Who said what?”
    He tugged at an earlobe and looked down at his
desk, which was covered with papers and folders. He lifted his gaze, and the
color rose in his cheeks and on his bald scalp. “She said I was deadwood. Not
only me; all the old farts in the department. That was what she said. That was
her phrase: old farts .”
    “And what did you say?”
    He let out a long breath. “I said that perhaps we
saw the mission of the department differently. That we saw the purpose of
teaching sociology as helping students understand the issues that separate
people, helping them understand the complexity of human experience and see how
to resolve conflicts peacefully and reasonably, to everyone’s benefit. That
some of us were more interested in equipping students with the tools they need
to live productively than in winning more and more grants and making names for
ourselves.”
    “I have to tell you, Professor, if that’s the
level of conflict in your department—”
    His voice was low but
steady. “Which was when she called me pathetic. A pathetic loser.” His hands
were trembling, almost imperceptibly.
    “She called you that in the meeting?”
    He just looked at me.
    “Did she ever contact you after the meeting? You
know, to explain, to apologize?”
    Daryl Sorenson held my gaze but remained silent.
    I shifted in my seat. “We think the incident at
Professor Rinaldi’s house happened last night, maybe around ten pm . There had been some sort of party
there, or maybe it was a class.” I paused. I couldn’t tell whether he was going
to answer me anymore.
    “It was her porn class.” He blinked rapidly a
couple of times and tugged at his earlobe.
    “Excuse me?”
    “It was her topics course on sexuality.”
    “Why did you call it her porn class?”
    “That’s what it’s called on campus. It’s on the
sociology of pornography.” He spoke slowly to maintain control of the words.
“Officially, she titled it Pornography and the Masturbatory Industrial
Complex.” He raised his eyebrows, then lowered them, to signal his disapproval.
    I glanced over at Ryan, who was smiling a little
as he wrote in his notebook. He apparently understood what the title of the
course meant.
    I put out my hand and shook my head to signal my
confusion. “Can you help me with that, Professor?”
    He nodded, then closed his heavy eyelids for a
moment. “The reference is to President Eisenhower’s valedictory warning about
the military-industrial complex.” He looked at Ryan, who was nodding, too.
    “How’s that relate to porn?”
    “I think the point is that pornography has become
a massive industry built on the fragmentation of modern society.”
    “What’s that mean?”
    “As familial and other social ties have broken
down—due to the decline of the traditional family unit, economic pressures, and
the geographical dispersal of the population—and the Internet has become the
nexus of our social interaction, pornography has filled the vacuum.”
    I looked over at Ryan. He nodded slightly to tell
me he would