L. Willard Towle's photo showed him to have been a Tab Hunter - type blond in his youth. Notations under his name mentioned presidency of the PreMed Club and the Biology Honor Society, as well as captain of the crew team. There was also an asterisk that led to a footnote advising the reader to turn to the last page of the book. I obeyed the instructions and came to a black - bordered photograph - the same picture I'd seen in Towle's office, of his wife and son against a backdrop of lake and mountains. There was an inscription beneath the photo:

Under the inscription were four lines of verse.

It was signed "S."

I was rereading the poem when Margaret Dopplemeier's coded knock sounded on the door. I slid open the latch and she came in holding a manila envelope. She locked the door, went behind her desk, opened the packet and shook out two three - by - five index cards.

"These are straight out of the sacred alumni file." She glanced at one and handed it to me. "Here's your doctor."

Towle's name was at the top, written out in elegant script. There were several entries under it, in different hands and different colors of ink. Most of them took the form of abbreviations and numeric codes.

"Can you explain it to me?"

She came around and sat down next to me, took the card and studied it.

"There's nothing mysterious about any of it. The abbreviations are meant to save space. The five digits after the name are the alumnus code, for mailing, filing, that kind of thing. After that you've got the number 3, which means he's the third member of his family to attend Jedson. The med is self explanatory - it's an occupation code, and the F:med means medicine is also the family's primary business. If it were shipping, it would say slip, banking, bnk, and so on. B:51 is the year he received his bachelor's degree. M: /, 148793 indicates that he married another Jedson student and her alumnus code is cross referenced. Here's something interesting - there's a small d in parentheses after the wife's code, which means she's deceased, and the date of death is 6/17/51 - she died when he was still a student here. Did you know that?"

"I did. Would there be any way of finding out more about that?"

She thought for a mgment.

"We could check the local papers for that week, for an obituary or funeral notice."

"What about the student paper?"

"The Spartan is a rag," she said scornfully, "but I suppose it would cover something like that. Back issues are stored in the library, on the other side of campus. We can go there later. Do you think it's relevant?"

She was flushed, girlish, given over totally to our little intrigue.

"It just could be, Margaret. I want to know everything I can about these people."

"Van der Graaf," she said.

"What's that?"

"Professor Van der Graaf, from the history department. He's the oldest of the Old Guard, been around Jedson longer than anyone I know of. On top of that he's a great gossip. I sat next to him at a garden party and the sweet old thing told me all sorts of tidbits - who was sleeping with whom, faculty dirt and the like."

"They let him get away with it?"

"He's close to ninety, rolling in family money, un married with no heirs. They're just waiting for him to croak and leave it all to their college. He's been emeritus from way back. Keeps an office on campus, sequesters himself there pretending to write books. I wouldn't be surprised if he sleeps there. He knows more about Jedson than anybody."

"Do you think he'd talk to me?"

"If he was in the right mood. In fact I thought of him when you told me over the phone that you wanted to find out about illustrious alumni. But I figured it was too risky leaving him alone with a reporter. You never know what he's going to do or say."

She giggled, enjoying the old man's ability to rebel from a position of power.

"Of course now that I know what you want," she continued, "he'd be perfect. You'd need some kind of story about why you wanted to talk about Towle, but I don't imagine that would be very difficult for someone as artful as you."

"How about this: I'm a reporter for Medical World News. Call me Bill Roberts. Dr. Towle's been elected President of the Academy of Pediatrics and I'm doing a background story on him."

"Sounds good. I'll call him now."

She reached for the phone and I took another look at Towle's alumnus card. The only information she hadn't covered was a column of dated entries under the heading $ - donations to Jedson, I assumed. They averaged ten thousand dollars a year. Towle was a faithful son.

"Professor Van der Graaf," she was saying, "this is Margaret Dopplemeier from Public Relations. I've been fine, thank you, and yourself? Very good - oh, I'm sure we can work that out, Professor." She covered the receiver with her hand and winked at me, mouthing the words 'good mood." "I didn't know you liked pizza, Professor. No. No, I don't like anchovies either. Yes, I do like Duesenbergs. I know you do… Yes, I know. The rain was coming down in sheets, Professor. Yes, I would. Yes, when the weather clears up. With the top down. I'll bring the pizza."

She flirted with Van der Graaf for five more minutes and finally broached the subject of my visit. She listened, gave me the okay sign with thumb and forefinger and went back to flirting. I picked up Kruger's card.

He was the fifth member of his family to attend Jedson and his degree was listed as having been granted five years previously. There was no mention of current position - the family was recorded as being active in stl, slip, and rl - est. No mention of matrimony was present, nor had he donated money to the school. There was however an interesting cross - reference. Under REL - F: it said Towle. Finally, the three letters DLT were written in large, block characters at the bottom of the card.

Margaret got off the phone.

"He'll see you. As long as I come along, and quote: Give me a brisk massage, young lady. You'll be prolonging the years of a living fossil, unquote. The old lecher," she added affectionately.

I asked her about Towle's name on Kruger's card.

"REL - F - related family. Apparently your two subjects are cousins of some sort."

"Why isn't that listed on Towle's card as well?"

"The heading was probably added after he graduated. Rather than go back and mark each card they simply used it on the new ones. DLT, though, is more interesting. He's been deleted from the file."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know. It doesn't say. It never would.

Some transgression. With his family background it had to be something big. Something that made the school want to wash its hands of him." She looked up at me. "This is getting interesting, isn't it?"

"Very."

She put the cards back in the envelope and locked it in her desk.

"I'll take you to Van der Graaf now."