Defending Academics Against Libel

“This is the place,'Eric Messer, Defending Academics Against Libel since 1999.'” Gregory read the imposing brass plate and entered the office with confidence. Mr Messer was sitting behind a heavy polished dark wood desk which was clear of clutter. He rose to greet his visitor.

“Doctor Peters, it is a pleasure to meet you. How may I be of assistance?”

Gregory opened the manilla folder and removed the photocopied sheet as if it were an unpleasant laboratory specimen. Mr Messer read it through carefully making marginal notes with a gold Parker pen. There was silence in the room and the sunlight caught the weaving pattern of the pen. Gregory found himself watching the pattern.

Mr Messer spoke quietly, “I see Doctor Meer is accusing you of plagiarism. Is he right?”

“Certainly not,” Gregory protested hotly.

“Well, that is a pity. The greater the truth the greater the libel. If the good Doctor accused you of consorting with aliens he could claim it was not libel but satire.

“Now my approach may be a little unorthodox but bear with me. If you could just close your eyes and imagine what it must have been like when you were first brought home from the hospital, Mr and Mrs Peters' first and only son. What kind of response do you think they had? Don't be modest."

Gregory found himself answering, “He's a miracle of nature. He's absolutely perfect. Just look at him.”

“Mmm and tell me about that first report card from school."

“Well Dad opened a bottle of champagne and they drank it, I had chocolate ice cream and candy. It was a celebration. I was top of the class.”

“You were always top of the class?”

“Always.”

“And when you got 100 percent in that French test?”

“Well, the same thing but that time I got some of the champagne.”

Apparently changing the subject, Mr Messer went on, “You never go to Church.”

“Intelligent people don't need God.”

“Are you interested in football, any sports at all?”

Gregory smiled condescendingly, “The people with the brains tell the people with the brawn what to do.”

“But you do go out for a drink with your mates once in a while?”

“Well there is no point in associating with people of inferior intellect and alcohol dulls the brain you know.”

“Did you hear about that woman whose daughter went missing? It was just a block away from where you live, wasn't it?”

“I pay no attention to the news. My academic work is all-absorbing.”

Mr Messer went on questioning in his quiet voice and Gregory found himself telling more of his inner life than he was used to exposing to anybody.

At the end of his session, Mr Messer invited him for a drink at the local bar. He found himself agreeing.

“I will send you my bill.”

“Of course.”

“You will find it very reasonable.”

“I am sure I will.”

After chatting in the bar for a while, the issue of Doctor Meer's catty remarks in 'Scientific American' came up.

“Oh stuff him. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me. Would you like another drink, Mr Messer?”

“Eric please, and it's a pint and a whisky chaser for me.”

“You know you are a most unusual lawyer.”

“Yes, well I studied the law of course but I always pursued hypnotism as a hobby. I defend academics from libel you see.”

“Who cares about libel? I'll just politely tell Meer he is mistaken and get on with my life.”

Eric Messer nodded and watched young Gregory make his way unsteadily to the bar.

Derek McMillan is a writer in Durrington. His wife, Angela, is his editor. He has a number of works which can be viewed on his website http://derekmcmillan.com and his latest book is "Death in Durrington" which has a dozen stories about the Durrington Detective Agency.