The Letter Killeth Read Online Free

philosophical dialogue. I have always thought that the figure of Samuel Johnson is the most successful. We will be considering Crawford’s theory of fiction later.”
    Mary Alice had written a profile of Roger Knight for Via Media. It gave her a chance to quiz him about his past. It turned out to be even more exotic than she had imagined. He and his older brother had been orphaned, but Phil had been old enough to keep them together and raise Roger. Had Roger always been so fat?
    â€œI was briefly thin in the navy.”
    â€œThe navy!”
    â€œI enlisted after I got my doctorate at Princeton.”
    â€œIn what?”
    â€œThey called it philosophy.”
    He had still been a teenager when he got his Ph.D. His age and his avoirdupois had made getting a teaching position difficult, and rather than subsist on postdoctoral fellowships, he had slimmed down enough to join the navy. Meanwhile, Phil had become a very successful private investigator. After Roger’s discharge from the navy they settled in Rye, New York. Roger, too, got a private investigator’s license, and they had accepted only cases of unusual interest. Their undemanding life had enabled Roger to pursue the life of the mind, and via the Internet he was in contact with kindred spirits around the globe. It was his monograph on Baron Corvo and its surprising popularity that had brought him to the attention of Father Carmody, who nominated Roger for the Huneker Chair in Catholic Studies, the funding for which Carmody had secured from a Philadelphia alumnus.
    â€œWho is Baron Corvo?” Mary Alice asked.
    â€œWas. His real name was Frederick Rolfe.” And he told her a thing or two about the disenchanted convert to Catholicism.
    â€œYou should give a course on him.”
    â€œI have.”
    â€œI suppose you’ve given one on Huneker, too.”
    â€œNot yet.”
    Several agnostic courses in graduate school had been the prelude to Roger’s own conversion to Catholicism. “Philosophy has been called the formulation of bad arguments for what you already believe. That is certainly true of disbelief.”
    *   *   *
    â€œMy father is here,” Bill told Mary Alice after Roger’s class today.
    â€œIn this weather? What’s going on?”
    â€œHe came on impulse. He usually does.”
    She waited. Would he want her to meet his father? He seemed to be asking himself the same question.
    â€œYou could have dinner with us tonight. At the Morris Inn.”
    â€œShould I dress up?”
    He laughed. “Wait until you meet my father.”

5
    When Father Carmody arrived with Quirk in tow, he displayed the letter the provost had received. Phil levered himself out of his beanbag chair and took the letter from Roger.
    â€œA joke?”
    â€œWho knows? Several other administrators and one faculty member received similar notes, apparently. I haven’t seen them. Another went to Charlie Weis.”
    â€œWeis!”
    Quirk seemed indifferent to Father Carmody’s mission. He stood, smiling at Roger and shaking his head.
    â€œIs it true?”
    â€œThat depends on what you mean by ‘it.’”
    â€œYou’re interested in F. Marion Crawford?”
    â€œI am giving a course on him this semester.”
    â€œYou are! That’s wonderful. I never even heard his name when I was a student here.”
    Father Carmody rolled his eyes and took Phil into the study.
    â€œHave you ever been to the Villa Crawford in Sorrento?” Quirk asked Roger.
    â€œYou have.”
    â€œSeveral times. I have a great idea. Father Carmody tells me you are just the one to propose it to the administration.”
    â€œI think he’s pulling your leg.”
    Quirk ignored this. When he had entered, he had thrown back the hood of his parka, a commodious jacket with NOTRE DAME SWIMMING emblazoned on it. Roger commented on this.
    â€œI was on the swimming team. Of course, there