Lady Professor by Switzer Robert L.;

Author:Switzer, Robert L.;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bedazzled Ink Publishing
Published: 2017-06-26T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

1931 - 1932

“PROFESSOR KÖHLER, I need a chemist.” Emma entered the office of Harrington College’s senior chemistry professor with energy and directness.

“Ach, Fraulein Professor Dr. Hansen. Good day to you. How are you?” Prof. Köhler replied.

He could never get accustomed to the informality of Americans, which he felt bordered on rudeness. Köhler was a native of Germany and had received his doctoral training in the famed school of chemistry founded by Justus von Liebig at Munich. During the economic and political chaos following Germany’s defeat in the Great War, he emigrated to the United States and had been named professor of chemistry at Harrington in 1920. He retained his formal manners, insisted on the umlaut over the o in his name, and spoke heavily accented English. His courses in chemistry were well known for their thoroughness and rigor—and for being dry.

“I am well, thank you. And you, sir?” Emma realized that, in her excitement, she had been too abrupt and stood waiting until Köhler waved her to a chair.

“Bitte, sit yourself down. Now tell me, Fraulein Doctor, why does a biologist need a chemist?”

“Well, I have isolated a series of mutants in the fungus Neurospora crassa that have defects in pigment formation, and the way they fall into genetic complementation groups suggests to me that they are somehow involved in the chemical synthesis of the pigment. I can explain it more fully, if you wish.”

“Ach, I’m afraid I have no understanding of this Vererbungslehre, what you call genetics.”

“That’s not important, sir. The point is this: if I knew what the chemical structures of the various pigments produced by the mutants were, I might be able to deduce what the genes do.” Emma leaned forward in her chair.

Her conversation with James Sumner some years earlier rang in her ears: “How does it work?” she had posed as the fundamental question of biology. “What is it made of?” he had insisted had to be answered first. She now saw the wisdom of that.

“I don’t know enough chemistry to do that.”

“Hmmm. Any idea of the chemical nature of the pigments?”

“No, sir, but they are colored: yellow, orange, red orange.”

“Not inorganic, you think?”

“No, I doubt that.”

“Vell, then, why don’t you talk to the new fellow, Joseph Bellafiori. He’s a new Instructor in chemistry. Studied organic chemistry with Professor Adams at Illinois. Just got here. He might could help you.”

“Thank you. I haven’t met him. Thank you for the suggestion.”

“Ja, bitte schön. Gudt luck.”

She found Joseph Bellafiori the next day in the small laboratory where a few male students worked at stone-topped wooden benches on a project in the organic chemistry lab course. He was talking softly, but intently to a pair of students, who held a glass flask of bright yellow fluid for his inspection.

He looked up at her, his eyes widened and he broke into a grin. She had not expected him to be so young—almost boyish. Bellafiori was a smallish man, not much taller than Emma, and athletically built. His head

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