Death of the Ayn Rand Scholar Gray Cavender (motivational novels for students .TXT) 📖

had been the Justice Studies Graduate Director, and actively recruited her into that program. She’d also been the chair on Jillian’s honors thesis. It seemed to Jillian that Carla Nagel had had a very different experience with her honors thesis director.

Since Jillian had graduated with her MS degree, Carolyn had rotated out of the Grad Director position and had been elected Vice President of the ASU Faculty Women’s Association. Jillian wondered if she had known Professor Siemens…she’d ask.

Carolyn had published a lot of articles, many in prestigious journals like Gender & Society. Jillian remembered some of the titles of her publications and the journals they were published in…in a hero worship kind of a-way. She’d seen this in other grad students, too, especially in the PhD program…it was like they were imprinting on their faculty mentor, as if maybe their mentor’s success would somehow rub-off on them. And, best of all, Jillian and Carolyn had the co-authored article in Feminist Criminology.

She knew that Carolyn was working on a book, a project that would propel her toward promotion to full professor. The working title had been: Women and the Culture of Policing. She’d been interviewing women police officers in the higher echelons of administration. And, her general interest in the topic is what prompted the idea for Jillian’s own research. She reminded herself to ask how the book was going.

As she entered Wilson Hall and took the steps to the second floor, Jillian again had that strange sensation of continuity, of having never left. Carolyn’s office was at the far end of the corridor opposite Professor Naremore’s, and also on the opposite side of the building. Her windows looked out across a very wide sidewalk onto the Moeur Buidling. Jillian didn’t know how old Moeur was—maybe the 1940s or even older—but did know that it was an adobe building.

She told herself again as she walked down the hall, “Remember, this is an interview, DS Warne.”

Carolyn’s office door was open…she looked up from something she was reading, smiled, and motioned Jillian in. Again, a gush of memories…how many times had she entered this office with Carolyn looking up from her desk?

Carolyn was around five seven…maybe 130 pounds…fair complexion, but she spent so much time outdoors that her skin always had a rich tan color. Her hair, so dark brown that it looked black, was cut at an angle so that it was longer on the right side of her face than the left…and nicely framed her oval face. She wore glasses only for protection against the computer screen. Jillian knew that she was an avid skier…cross country and downhill. She had a framed photo on her desk: she was atop the slopes somewhere, ski poles ready, with Alena on kid’s skies between her legs, equally ready. Alena was about four in the photo. Carolyn always looked fit, physically and mentally. She was a stylish dresser on her own terms: nice skirt or slacks, usually a sharp jacket or blazer over a mock turtle…never anything frilly. Her light make-up highlighted her tanned skin color. To Jillian, Carolyn epitomized the look of a successful professor…of a mentor and a role model.

Despite the fact that Carolyn’s office was chocked full of furniture and equipment, it always gave-off a welcoming feeling. Her desk, which was placed along the right wall, faced the wall on the left side of the office. There was a small round table toward the right center of the office, almost butting-up against book shelves. The shelves were full…books were even stacked on the front of the shelves. The arrangement looked haphazard—even a little precarious—but on many occasions Jillian and Carolyn had been discussing some book, and, without breaking her train of thought, she’d go directly to the shelf for that book, pull it, and either read a passage to Jillian, or, as likely, loan it to her.

Carolyn moved from behind the desk, flipped on the tea kettle, and hugged Jillian. “I’m so glad you came by. I want to do some catching-up, but first tell me, how’s the new job working out?”

“It’s good…very different from working at Tempe PD…at least it was…you know.”

Out of habit, they both sat at the small round table. “I can’t even imagine what this is like. Obviously, you’ll tell me if I’m crossing any lines, but what’s this all about?”

“Well, we don’t know, although we are working on it. Interviewing witnesses…and now we have the initial forensics report back. Professor Siemens was murdered…in her office in the English building—that’s the former law library…”

“Right, English vacated Language and Literature and went over there. I think the former law school will become the offices for CLASS…College of Liberal Arts and Sciences.”

Jillian nodded. “Apparently she was beaten to death with a paperweight that was…I don’t know…handy.”

“God dog, that’s horrible. Who would do something like that? And why?” Jillian could tell that Carolyn was angry, but also obviously sad…her lower lip trembled as she talked.

“I know…anyway, we’re interviewing everyone we can think of to try to get a sense of who she was...and what was going on in her life? That’s one thing I wanted to ask…did you know her? ASU is a big campus, but I just wondered... Honestly, we’re early into our investigation, and we’re looking for anything that might help…anything at all.”

“Yes, I knew her…not very well. At first, there was all that opposition to her and to the Rand Studies Center…the debate in the Faculty Senate…that kind of thing. I think some of that had died down, although I guess there was still some bad blood out there. My direct interactions with Nelda came at the Faculty Women’s Association meetings. She was usually there and was…active…although I want to say that her participation usually took a different tact from what most others said.”

“In what way?”

“Well, most faculty women are critical of the treatment of women at ASU…on issues of salaries, time to promotion, and more general issues like service to the departments…a lot of women feel they