Chapter 10

"Can you get eight or nine cups of coffee from that machine?" I asked Mona.

"Up to 12, it says."

"Great. I have no notion of how many will show up. I'm off to the Dean's."

"You've posed me a real problem," was my greeting.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's mine. Do you know the phrase in pectore or in petto?"

"No, sir."

"It's used in the Roman church and sometimes in politics. It's literally 'in the bosom' or 'in secret.' Several popes have appointed cardinals in secret for political reasons — to keep them out of danger. I don't think the Centre head wanted to make a secret appointment, but he wanted to keep the money. Like a miser gloating over his gold, yet not spending it.

"Yes. So he never told us that Jurgen was gone for good. He's merely on leave without pay. And that pay is just sitting in the budget. I suppose that about three months into the next fiscal year some auditor would have noticed and brought it to my attention.

"The man's a fool. But he's not corrupt. I'm seeing him this afternoon. I'll have to be harsh, but I'll not dismiss him. What do you think?"

"Well. A year ago I would have told you to be as severe as possible. To tie him to the mast and give him twenty of the best. But now I think you're right. He's a fool. Is he on a term or is being head of a Centre at your whim?"

"It's a four or five year term. He's on his second. I think he's done at the end of next academic year."

"There's your answer. Six months before, appoint a search committee for a new head. The same committee could run the search for an additional staff member. Prior to that, you might strike an informal group from within the Centre to advise you as to which discipline."

"Very clever. I get rid of him without pain; the Centre gets a new head and an additional faculty member. I don't suppose that you... ?"

"No, sir! And you want to keep it clean. But keep in mind that this is the Centre for Evolutionary Biology and that Charles Darwin's 200^th birthday is in February 2009."

"Thank you. You are really a clever one. OK. Off with you. Have a good weekend."

"You too, Sir."

The blokes wouldn't be happy, but they'd be satisfied. I strolled to my office.

At a few minutes before eleven I heard a rumble and then about eight folks appeared. I knew several of them, but not all. Only five had been at coffee. "Hey, Gordy. We brought along some extras to hear what there's to hear."

"No problem. Let's scavenge some chairs from next door." We did. "Everyone drink coffee?"

"Not me."

"Mona, could we have eight coffees and... ?"

"Nothing."

"Eight coffees and a nothing. While we're waiting, I'm Gordy Hollister. I'm with the CSIRO and the Australian Navy and the University. I only get paid by the CSIRO, unfortunately. I'm in charge of all the CSIRO stuff in this state: Floreat, Scitech, cooperation with Curtin, and that sort of thing. I thought I was going to be teaching entomology here, but when Jurgen left, that plan fell apart. Right now, I spend Tuesdays and Thursdays out at Scitech." I paused while Mona distributed coffee and offered those ghastly packets of sweeteners and whiteners.

"A few days ago at coffee, Alf brought up the question of Jurgen's slot. On Wednesday I spoke to the Dean of this School. Bluntly, he knew nothing about it. He took notes and promised to enquire. I saw him this morning and..." I narrated the tale of the "secrecy" of the head of the Centre.

"Is that illegal?"

"Maybe. Certainly 'malfeasant'. I told them that their head was to be in the Dean's office in the afternoon and that my guess was that in a bit over a year, he'd be gone."

"Why then?"

"Term of office and academic year. His time'll be up. Now, what the Dean is going to do is strike an advisory group from among you. Probably three of you. And you'll advise him as to what sort of staff person should be appointed. Those three plus a few others will then form a search committee..."