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“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?”
