T he beautiful treelined, brick-paved streets and elegant ivy-covered buildings of tiny Atticus College did not seem like a place that could spawn a political assassin.

"I'd never heard of this school until Ritter was killed," said Michelle as she drove her Land Cruiser slowly down the main campus thoroughfare.

King nodded. "I hadn't realized how close it was to Bowlington." He looked at his watch. "It only took us thirty minutes to get here."

"What did Ramsey teach here?"

"Political science with a special emphasis on federal election laws, although his personal interest was radical political theory." Michelle looked at him in surprise.

He explained. "After Ritter was killed, I made it my business to get a Ph.D. in Arnold Ramsey." He glanced at Michelle. "You drop a guy, the least you can do is take the time to learn about him."

"That sounds a little callous, Sean."

"It's not meant to. I just wanted to know why a seemingly reputable college professor would kill a nut of a candidate who had no chance to win anyway and sacrifice his life in the process."

"I would think that would have been checked out pretty thoroughly."

"Not as thoroughly as if it had been a real bona fide candidate. Besides, I think everybody just wanted to get the whole mess over with."

"And the official investigation concluded that Ramsey acted alone."

"Based on what we've found, they apparently concluded incorrectly." He stared out the window. "I don't know, though, it's been a long time. I'm not sure we're going to find anything useful here."

"Well, weare here, so let's give it our best shot. We might spot something everybody else missed. Just like you did with the blue hydrangea."

"But we also might find out something that might be better left undiscovered."

"I don't ever think that's a good thing."

"You're always for the truth coming out?"

"Aren't you?"

King shrugged. "I'm a lawyer. Go ask a real human being."

T hey were directed from one person and one department to another until they found themselves sitting in the office of Thornton Jorst. He was medium height, trim, and appeared to be in his early fifties. A pair of thick eyeglasses and pale complexion gave him a very professorial air. He'd been a friend and colleague of the late Arnold Ramsey.

Jorst sat behind a cluttered desk piled high with opened books, reams of manuscript pages and a laptop symbolically covered with very low-tech legal pads and colored pens. The shelves that covered the walls of his office seemed to sag under the weight of the impressively thick works collected there. King was staring at the diplomas on the wall when Jorst held up a cigarette. "Do you mind? A professor's inner sanctum is one of the few places left where one can actually light up."

King and Michelle both nodded their assent.

"I was surprised to hear that the two of you were here asking about Arnold."

"We normally call ahead and make official appointments," said King.

"But we were in the area and decided the opportunity was too good to pass up," added Michelle.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get your names?"

"I'm Michelle Stewart and this is Tom Baxter."

Jorst eyed King. "Pardon me for saying so, but you look very familiar."

King smiled. "Everybody says that. I've just got that kind of average face."

Michelle said, "That's funny, I was going to say that I recognized you from somewhere, Dr. Jorst, but I just don't remember where."

"I'm on TV locally a fair amount, especially now with the elections drawing close," said Jorst quickly. "I like my anonymity, but having one's fifteen minutes of fame every now and then is good for the ego." He cleared his throat and said, "I understand that you're doing a documentary of some sort on Arnold?"

Michelle sat back and took on the air of a scholar herself. "Not just him, but on politically motivated assassinations in general, but with a special emphasis. The hypothesis is that there are quite marked distinctions between people who target politicians. Some do so because of pure mental imbalance or a perceived personal grievance against the target. And others strike because of deep philosophical beliefs, or even because they believe themselves to be doing good. They might even regard killing an elected official or candidate as an act of patriotism."

"And you want my opinion on which of these categories Arnold fell into?"

"Being a friend and colleague, you've doubtlessly given the matter a great deal of thought," said King.

Jorst eyed him keenly through the wisps of smoke. "Well, I can't say the issue of what drove Arnold to become an assassin hasn't intrigued me over the years. However, I can't claim he fits neatly into any ideological or motivational box either."

"Well, maybe if we look at his background and the time period that led up to his action, we might be able to get somewhere," suggested Michelle.

Jorst checked his watch.

"I'm sorry," said Michelle. "Do you have a class?"

"No, actually I'm on sabbatical. Trying to finish a new book. So fire away."

Michelle took out a pen and notebook. "Why don't we start with a little background on Ramsey?" she prompted.

Jorst leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. "Arnold did the hat trick at Berkeley, B.A., M.A., Ph.D. All at the top of his class, by the way. He also somehow found time to participate in protests against the Vietnam War, burn his draft card, march in civil rights demonstrations, attend sit-ins and lie-ins, get arrested, risk his life, all of that. He had by far the best academic credentials of any professor this department has ever employed and quickly achieved tenure here."

"Was he popular with his students?" asked King.

"For the most part, I think he was. More popular than I am with mine." Jorst chuckled. "I'm a far tougher grader than my late, lamented colleague."

"I assume his political leanings were far different than Ritter's?" asked Michelle.

"Ninety-nine percent of America would have fallen into that category, and thank God for that. He was a TV preacher who sucked money out of deluded people all over the country. How could a man like that run for the White House? It made me ashamed of my country."

"Sounds like Ramsey's opinions rubbed off on you," said King.

Jorst coughed and attempted a chuckle. "I certainly agreed with Arnold's assessment of Clyde Ritter as presidential material. However, I differed with him drastically on the proper response to the man's candidacy."

"So Ramsey was vocal about his feelings?"

"Very." Jorst stubbed out his cigarette and immediately lit another. "I remember him stalking around my office and pounding his fist into the palm of his hand and decrying the state of a citizenry that would allow a man like Clyde Ritter to gain purchase in national politics."

"But he had to know that Ritter had no chance of winning."

"That wasn't the issue. What wasn't nearly so obvious was the deal-making that was going on behind the scenes. Ritter had reached a critical mass in the polls, and that had started to make both the Republicans and the Democrats extremely nervous. He'd easily reached poll levels that enabled him to receive federal election funds and qualified him for national debate time. And whatever you could say about Ritter, he talked a good game. He was incredibly glib, and he connected with a certain element of the voting population. And you also have to understand that in addition to Ritter's own presidential campaign, he'd cobbled together an independent party coalition that had numerous candidates running for various offices in many of the larger states. That could have had disastrous consequences for the major party candidates."

"How so?" King asked.

"In many elections around the country his slate was splitting the traditional voting bases for the major-party candidates, in effect giving him control over the outcome of perhaps thirty percent of the seats in play. Now, when you have that much leverage in the political arena, well…"

"You get to pretty much name your price?" suggested King.

Jorst nodded. "What Ritter's price would have been is anyone's guess. After his death the wind went completely out of his party. The major parties really dodged a bullet there. Excuse me, poor choice of words. But I really believe that Arnold thought if Ritter weren't stopped, he'd end up destroying everything America stood for."

"And that was clearly something Ramsey didn't want to see happen," said King.

"Obviously not, considering he shot the man," Jorst said dryly.

"Did he ever talk about doing something like that?"

"As I told the authorities back then, he didn't. Yes, he'd come in here and rant and rave about Ritter, but he certainly never made any threats or anything. I mean that's what freedom of speech is all about. He was entitled to his opinion."

"But not entitled to kill for it."

"I didn't even know he had a gun."

"Was he close with other professors here?" asked Michelle.

"Not really. Arnold intimidated many of them. Schools like Atticus don't usually get such academic heavyweights."

"Friends outside the college?"

"None that I knew of."

"How about among his students?"

Jorst eyed King. "Excuse me, but this seems more like an investigation into Arnold personally, rather than a documentary on why he killed Clyde Ritter."

"Maybe it's a little of both," said Michelle quickly. "I mean it's difficult to understand motivation without understanding the man and how he went about his plan to assassinate Ritter."

Jorst considered this for a few moments and then shrugged. "Well, if he tried to recruit any student to help, I certainly never heard of it."

"He was married at the time of his death?" asked Michelle.

"Yes, but separated from his wife, Regina. They had one daughter, Kate." He rose and went over to a shelf containing numerous photos. He handed one to them.