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side. I recognized him now as Jimmy Harmon, Irwin's one nationally famous professor. Even at the young age of 42, he had an amazing body of successes to his credit. He'd created two classic Broadway shows that were destined to be performed in high schools and little theater forever, but could pull in crowds on Broadway with each revival. He'd written a pop TV theme and composed a rock opera. He had also recorded some of the greatest collections of American folk music to date and written about them in an engaging yet scholarly way. He was dressed in wild mismatched clothes, including bright orange overalls that echoed his "I Love Lucy" hair color.
    He said excitedly, "To Harrisburg? Has the satellite grant gone through?"
    "Yes, yes it has. Kathryn is helping the Governor with the press release," said Bouchet.
    Everyone seemed pleased. I heard someone say, "Well, that is wonderful news."
    I took out my small laptop computer and opened it on the table. I put the list of people Miranda Juarez had given me on top of it and quickly typed the names into a spreadsheet.
    A man and woman entered the room. Miranda had indicated the late people were Georgia Smith and Daniel Cohen, so I checked off their names.
    There were now eleven people at the table counting me. Bouchet didn't pull any punches as he began the meeting, "There has been a very serious development regarding Carl Rasmus's tragic death."
    Heads shot up. Bouchet had everyone's full attention. He explained in a general way that the autopsy did not fit well with the original presumption of suicide. He added that information from the coroner's inquest would be made public sometime next week.
    "We have planned a memorial service for Carl on Sunday, in the College Chapel along with the regular service at 11:00 AM. It will help the students... and the rest of us deal with the shock of Carl's death by celebrating his life. I hope you will all attend." He made it clear that absence was not an option.
    "And there is something else as well," said Bouchet. He turned to Miranda and she handed him a sheaf of papers that he passed around to everyone. "This is a copy of Carl's suicide note. It may be made public as part of the inquest evidence. As you can see, everyone on the Tenure Committee is named and Carl blames us all and himself for his unhappy life and untimely death."
    As everyone scanned the note, I heard the words, "Slander, libel, obscene, preposterous, ridiculous, and crap," said with various intonations and emphasis.
    An expensively dressed man at the end of the table said, "Max, this is really too much," in a pompous way. Georgia Smith's eyes glistened.
    Bouchet said, "Yes, I know, what Carl says here is unfounded and untrue. And what he says about himself is... odd. That coupled with the facts of the autopsy has brought me to a decision." He indicated me. "This is Maggie Gale. She is a private investigator who comes highly recommended. I have hired her to get to the truth of this matter. She will be..."
    A black-haired woman in round-rimmed glasses sitting at the far right end of the table stood up. According to the list she had to be either Dr. Amanda Knightbridge or Dr. Rowlina Roth-Holtzman. She interrupted angrily with a German accent, "Max, really, of this you cannot be serious," she eyed me. "This is not the cops and robbers. Carl killed himself, there is no mystery. He was an unfortunate young man with demons. He could not..."
    "Rowlina, please hear me out," Bouchet commanded in a semi-roar. Dr. Rolina Roth-Holtzman bit back the rest of her words and flopped back into her seat.
    Bouchet resumed in a quieter yet still commanding rumble, "Yes, there are many reasons to believe that Carl's death was exactly as it seemed, but there is now room for doubt. There must be a very careful investigation, more careful than the police are willing to undertake."
    "May I ask," said the imposing woman to my far left whom I could now identify as Dr. Amanda Knightbridge, "has the Board