attending some social events.
The immediate horror of the murder itself and the description dimmed somewhat as assistants and I got caught up in the preparations for another round of testing. Shortly before the next testing session, we gathered in the lab to review test strategy. No one mentioned a word about the murder, but everyone could tell it was once again taking on immediacy in our thoughts.
Now, in the comfort of my house with the fire throwing comforting shadows on the walls of the room, Guy, Der and I turned our attention to the murder.
“We’ll see how much we won when we see these new research results. I’m not going to hang over your heads, you know, but I want you to report anything, I mean anything that looks remotely suspicious,” Der said. I shared with Guy and Der the concerns that I encouraged my research assistants to verbalize earlier in the week.
“No one feels in immediate danger, and they don’t think any of the students in the session are in danger. They just worry that they’ll come upon another ghastly description. I’m concerned about that too. It seems too much to ask undergraduate researchers to endure this much anxiety. This is going to be the last round of testing in this project, and I’m glad. We’ve got three sessions the week after next and that’s the end of testing for the semester. Next semester, we analyze the results, and next year I’m on sabbatical and can move on to another project.”
“I can’t move on until I find the killer,” Der said.
“I know. I’m the lucky one.” I patted Der’s hand.
And for several weeks I was lucky.
*
The sessions went without incident. At the end of each of the three sessions, I gathered with my assistants to go over the results. I was not about to leave them alone with the possibility of a communication from the killer among the descriptions. I read each story generated by a subject before I handed the response over to the assistants to be sorted into the correct group pile for later scoring and analysis. The more results we read that were actual responses to the leads about harassment, the more relaxed each one of us got. Halfway through the results of the third session, I came upon a story that seemed a bit odd:
The professor waits anxiously for Ann in the bar, but she doesn’t show up. Ann misses all her classes that week and her roommates report that she hasn’t been back to the room in several days. Her parents are worried, the college is worried. Should the authorities be worried? Why is she gone and how did she disappear?
Although the story seemed innocuous by itself, coming on the heels of the description of a grisly murder, the tone of the story bothered me. It seemed to mimic the murder description with the questions posed at the end of the paragraph. I laid it to one side, casually telling my students that “this one looks like an unscorable response.” I wanted Der to see it.
The next-to-the-last subject description I read made me certain that the one I declared unscorable was more than just a little odd—it was sinister. And the two stories were clearly connected. It read:
Being hit on by a professor isn’t so bad. Just think of all the terrible things that could happen to a woman. Ann worries about these things and for good reason. She doesn’t make it to class the following day.
Trying hard to keep my voice from shaking, I declared this one unscorable also and placed it face down on the pile with the others we would look at later. I picked up the final description and sighed with relief to find the usual story ending to the harassment lead.
“Anything you want to discuss about the testing today?” This was a standard question I asked following the research sessions. Sometimes assistants had difficulty keeping students from talking with one another as they completed the stories, for example, and the research team would discuss ways to handle such problems.
“Nothing much really,” Karen said,
The immediate horror of the murder itself and the description dimmed somewhat as assistants and I got caught up in the preparations for another round of testing. Shortly before the next testing session, we gathered in the lab to review test strategy. No one mentioned a word about the murder, but everyone could tell it was once again taking on immediacy in our thoughts.
Now, in the comfort of my house with the fire throwing comforting shadows on the walls of the room, Guy, Der and I turned our attention to the murder.
“We’ll see how much we won when we see these new research results. I’m not going to hang over your heads, you know, but I want you to report anything, I mean anything that looks remotely suspicious,” Der said. I shared with Guy and Der the concerns that I encouraged my research assistants to verbalize earlier in the week.
“No one feels in immediate danger, and they don’t think any of the students in the session are in danger. They just worry that they’ll come upon another ghastly description. I’m concerned about that too. It seems too much to ask undergraduate researchers to endure this much anxiety. This is going to be the last round of testing in this project, and I’m glad. We’ve got three sessions the week after next and that’s the end of testing for the semester. Next semester, we analyze the results, and next year I’m on sabbatical and can move on to another project.”
“I can’t move on until I find the killer,” Der said.
“I know. I’m the lucky one.” I patted Der’s hand.
And for several weeks I was lucky.
*
The sessions went without incident. At the end of each of the three sessions, I gathered with my assistants to go over the results. I was not about to leave them alone with the possibility of a communication from the killer among the descriptions. I read each story generated by a subject before I handed the response over to the assistants to be sorted into the correct group pile for later scoring and analysis. The more results we read that were actual responses to the leads about harassment, the more relaxed each one of us got. Halfway through the results of the third session, I came upon a story that seemed a bit odd:
The professor waits anxiously for Ann in the bar, but she doesn’t show up. Ann misses all her classes that week and her roommates report that she hasn’t been back to the room in several days. Her parents are worried, the college is worried. Should the authorities be worried? Why is she gone and how did she disappear?
Although the story seemed innocuous by itself, coming on the heels of the description of a grisly murder, the tone of the story bothered me. It seemed to mimic the murder description with the questions posed at the end of the paragraph. I laid it to one side, casually telling my students that “this one looks like an unscorable response.” I wanted Der to see it.
The next-to-the-last subject description I read made me certain that the one I declared unscorable was more than just a little odd—it was sinister. And the two stories were clearly connected. It read:
Being hit on by a professor isn’t so bad. Just think of all the terrible things that could happen to a woman. Ann worries about these things and for good reason. She doesn’t make it to class the following day.
Trying hard to keep my voice from shaking, I declared this one unscorable also and placed it face down on the pile with the others we would look at later. I picked up the final description and sighed with relief to find the usual story ending to the harassment lead.
“Anything you want to discuss about the testing today?” This was a standard question I asked following the research sessions. Sometimes assistants had difficulty keeping students from talking with one another as they completed the stories, for example, and the research team would discuss ways to handle such problems.
“Nothing much really,” Karen said,
Similar Books
