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might want to talk to an old friend of his.”
    â€œMy God, I’d rather not.”
    Jimmy had already called Minneapolis and told Mrs. Sadler that she was now a widow. Not that bluntly, of course, but there was no way the news he had to give could be softened. Nor was the task made easier by the suggestion that an autopsy be conducted. Patricia Sadler tearfully agreed and said she would be on the first available flight to South Bend.
    â€œNorthwest has a direct flight,” she added, and gave a little sob. “I know because Mort took it. The kids can drive down.”
    *   *   *
    Jim Crown knew a good deal of Sadler’s life in Minneapolis, which he visited often from Rochester, where he was on the staff of the Mayo Clinic.
    â€œThat’s out of Agatha Christie,” he said when told of the deadly nightshade.
    â€œHave you had any experience of it?”
    â€œOnly in bad fiction.”
    â€œWho might have poisoned him?”
    â€œNo one among his business associates. He was the toast of Minneapolis. Here at Notre Dame he had a reputation for controversy, but I think he left that behind at graduation.”
    â€œDomestic life all right?”
    â€œHe has four kids. He and Pat are like honeymooners.”
    â€œJackie Gleason.”
    â€œThat was before my time.”
    â€œMine too.”
    Crown held up a hand. “You know, when Mort was an undergraduate he once made himself sick to avoid an exam. He nearly killed himself. Accidentally. What was it he took?” Crown tried to recall but could not. “What if he was trying to get out of the tournament and the bet with Maureen O’Kelly and he accidentally killed himself?”
    â€œHad he ever tried anything like that since he was a student?”
    â€œLieutenant, you have to remember what coming back here does. It doesn’t much matter what you have done since graduation—being on campus restores the persona you had here. It’s as if the experience of a lifetime is erased and you’re just a stupid kid again. You should have seen the four of us romping last night.”
    *   *   *
    Ben Barley’s eyes were red from crying. His was the first real emotion Jimmy and Phil had encountered among Sadler’s old friends.
    â€œThe poor sonofagun.” Barley dabbed at his eyes. “The only comfort is that he died at Notre Dame.”
    â€œDid he want that?”
    Barley stared. “Who wouldn’t? Gentlemen, this is a special place. You have to be an alumnus to understand.”
    â€œWould he have killed himself in order to die here?”
    â€œSuicide? A mortal sin? Not on your life. Mortimer Sadler was an outstanding Catholic, a true son of Notre Dame.”
    â€œI understand he didn’t like the daughters of Notre Dame.”
    Barley made a face. “That was long ago.”
    â€œSomeone said that coming back to campus turns you into an undergraduate again, or words to that effect.”
    Barley nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true. Up to a point.”
    â€œHow about the bet with Mrs. O’Kelly?”
    â€œYou don’t think that she…?”
    â€œWhy would we think that?”
    â€œWhat you said. She hated Mort’s guts. Have you heard of the talk she gave at commencement?”
    â€œTell us about it.”
    â€œShe really took after Mort in it. Before thousands of people. Not by name, of course, but we knew he was the target.”
    â€œWhy was she speaking at commencement?”
    â€œShe was valedictorian.”
    â€œSmart?”
    Barley closed his eyes and whistled softly. “Brilliant. And she was as beautiful then as she is now.”
    â€œShe stopped by your table in the dining room last night.”
    â€œSo you’ve been told of that.”
    â€œIsn’t that when the bet was made?”
    â€œI don’t think either of them was serious.”
    After talking with Barley, Jimmy decided