Jane and my father had planned a celebration with our friends for Saturday. All I wanted to do after commencement was get out of my clothes and take a cold shower. Though there wasn’t a large crowd, I had some trouble finding Gwen, Mike, Jane, and my father. Once I located them, we all walked back to the house.
After showering and changing, I met everyone on the patio. As soon as I made my appearance, my father handed me a beer and clapped me on the back. Jane and Mike both kissed a cheek. Mike winked at me conspiratorially. Gwen was beaming and for the first time in several months looked relaxed and carefree. We had a backyard cookout and spent a quiet afternoon on the back porch, out of the sun. Jane and my father left just after dinner.
The next morning, I drove to UCLA to meet with Dr. Tenney. Debra Messenger was a stocky, matronly woman of about fifty, conservatively dressed, with dirty blonde hair and haunting gray eyes. She was all business when she greeted me. She apologized for Dr. Tenney who had been detained and wouldn’t be available for about fifteen minutes. It was closer to an hour.
When Dr. Tenney arrived, he greeted me cordially and apologized for keeping me waiting. He ushered me into his office, closed the door, and motioned for me to sit. Tenney was very tall, several inches taller than me, but his posture was slightly stooped. His full head of hair, once red, was now dulled to brown and turning white around the sides. Bushy eyebrows and mustache were still mostly red brown. He fidgeted continuously after he sat behind his desk. He was imbued with a nervous energy, his movements rapid and birdlike. He had long, narrow hands that he gestured with incessantly when he spoke and a florid complexion. I guessed he was in his sixties though he could have been older.
‘It’s nice to finally meet you, Dr. Taylor,’ he began. ‘I’ve been hearing about you for almost two years now. Dr. Packer and Dr. Bennett speak highly of you. I understand you studied and worked with Dr. Augustus at École Polytechnique. How is Ferdinand?’
‘Last I knew he was well,’ I responded. ‘We’ve exchanged letters at Christmas since I returned to the States. I’ve told him what I’ve been up to but each year I only get a short note telling me he and Mrs. Augustus are well and telling me a little about doings at Polytechnique. How do you know him?’
‘Physics is a small community, Dr. Taylor. We met in 1923 when we were doing post-doctoral work at Kaiser Wilhelm Society,’ Tenney told me. ‘Now, why don’t we discuss why I wanted to see you.’
Dr. Tenney spent the next half hour asking questions about my thesis research. Some questions suggested he knew more than he should have. I was evasive. I’d been warned I could face imprisonment if I divulged the contents of my thesis. Tenney seemed frustrated by my responses and pressed for more information. But my answers remained ambiguous.
‘I’m not going to get a straight answer, am I?’ he finally said, sounding exasperated.
‘I’m sorry, Dr. Tenney. I really cannot discuss my thesis with you.’