"He invited the people he liked to these lavish parties in his apartment, parties that were way above the typical academic standards," says Richard Macris, a former student. "There was lots of good champagne and it was decorated with the original works of art and Navajo rugs he collected. It was a very elegant place."

The Great Gatsby style of these affairs, the posh aristocratic excesses of Buettner-Janusch's daily life, made it all the more difficult for many to believe the accusations of wrongdoing. Indeed, some say that his luxurious lifestyle contributed to the university's continued support of Buettner-Janusch in the face of faculty criticism and, eventually, accusations of drug manufacturing. When the chairman was indicted for making LSD and Quaaludes in his lab, NYU refused to suspend him, saying they preferred to wait before making a decision on the future of this valued member of their staff.

"BJ had the administration absolutely snowed, what with his beautiful apartment on Washington Square, his wealthy wife, his catered Thanksgiving and Christmas parties. For academics, it was high living. The deans and administrators were very impressed," says Charles Leslie, an anthropology professor who, while he was at NYU, was vocal in his protests of Buettner-Janusch's conduct.

However, NYU Professor of History and Sociology Norman Cantor, who was dean of the faculty during Buettner-Janusch's chairmanship, maintains that the university was responsive to faculty complaints. "In the spring of 1979 I personally interviewed every member of that department. Only a very small number thought he was abrasive and difficult to get along with. If the majority had opposed him, he would not have been reappointed as chair," he says.

"Under his administration the anthro department grew in status and increased its ability to recruit students," says Cantor. "It is true that he was extremely opinionated and sometimes brusque, but so are many chairs, and many college presidents."

"I would say that if the drug thing hadn't been discovered, the odds are that he would have continued as chairman," continues Cantor.

In February 1979, Macris, then a student and research assistant in Buettner-Janusch's lab, became suspicious that drugs were being made and reported his doubts to NYU anthropology professor Clifford Jolly. Over the next few months, Jolly and Macris kept notes on laboratory activites, recorded conversations with Buettner-Janusch, photographed materials and secretly took samples that, when analyzed by the Drug Enforcement Agency, proved to be methaqualone and lysergic acid diethylamide, both illegal.

Apparently the anthropology chairman was planning to sell the drugs and had set up a corporation named Simian Expansions to launder the money. Buettner-Janusch pleaded not guilty in the trial which followed, a large part of his defense resting on character witnesses who testified to his brilliance and untarnished reputation. During the trial his lawyer, Jules Ritholtz, hypothesized that Jolly himself could have planted the samples of LSD and Quaaludes.

Some have called Buettner-Janusch a psychopath; others say he made drugs in his lab for the perfectly legitimate purpose of testing the reactions of lemurs, that he did not deserve a criminal sentence, and that this latest incident of poisoned chocolates is simply evidence of a mind warped by an unfair trial and a harsh prison sentence.

Dr. James N. Spuhler '40, former chair of the University of Michigan's anthropology department and advisor of Buettner-Janusch's doctoral dissertation, says he believes the full story is not yet out.

"All I know is I think Cliff Jolly is a shit. He, or someone destroyed a lot of things out of sheer jealousy. I mean, someone poured acid on the slides of lemur chromosome studies that BJ had done," says Spuhler.

One former anthropology chairman at Michigan, Fred Thiene, remembers his old research assistant fondly. "I found the drug business incredible. He had no reason to do it, and I still don't really believe it. One looks at motive, and there is none, at least financially."

"Some people might have been envious of his position. He was the target of a certain amount of jealousy, and he may have been set up," he says.

Other people have suggested that the sudden death of Vina Mallowitz from cancer in 1977 caused him to "fall to pieces" and that the drug business was a direct response to the loss of his wife. "She was a steadying influence, she guided him," says Sherwood L. Washburn '35, formerly the head of the anthropology department at Chicago.

The most common theory, however, is that Buettner-Janusch was always slightly off balance. "He wasn't doing it for money, he was doing it for ego. This was just part of his megalomania. He thought he could do anything and get away with anything," says former NYU professor Charles Leslie.