The Letter Killeth Read Online Free Page B

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    â€œYou yourself have read Crawford?”
    â€œI have everything but a title or two. There were two complete editions, and he was very popular, so most of the books are easily found. But there are some that are very rare.”
    â€œI got my set for a song.”
    Quirk was on his feet. “Could I see it?”
    Roger wished he had brought his chair from his study, the one he could wheel around in without getting to his feet. He rose slowly and with an effort.
    â€œHow much do you weigh?” Quirk asked wondrously.
    â€œThat depends.”
    â€œOn what?”
    â€œWhether I can get my brother to read the scale.” He patted his rotund circumference. “I can’t see it.”
    Roger waddled into his study, got into the specially built chair that made him mobile, and turned to find that Quirk had stopped in the doorway. His mouth was open as he looked around.
    â€œWhat a room!”
    â€œThat wall is fiction. You will find Crawford there.”
    Quirk found them, ran his finger along their spines. “The Collier edition.”
    â€œThe library has a good selection. I couldn’t teach the course otherwise.”
    â€œHe should be reprinted.”
    â€œAnother costly project. I wonder how many would be interested in his style of fiction now.”
    â€œHow can we know if he isn’t available?”
    â€œThat doesn’t sound like a premise any publisher would be willing to proceed on.”
    â€œNotre Dame Press should do it.”
    â€œPerhaps, with a subsidy…” Roger was beginning to feel the beginnings of impatience. He could have tolerated Quirk’s enthusiasm if he would not far rather have been talking with Phil and Father Carmody of the threatening letter the priest had brought. Obviously, he wanted Phil to look into the matter.
    â€œYou’re right, of course. But first things first. I mean the Villa Crawford. As it happens, I do have an idea where the money to buy it could be gotten.”
    â€œThat wouldn’t settle the matter, of course.”
    â€œThis morning at the Morris Inn—I’m staying there—I ran into a classmate I had not seen in years. He lives a very simple life by the looks of him, and while he was here few people had any inkling of his background. He is rich as Croesus. Inherited money. I had an uncle who worked for his father, that’s how I got the story. Manfred swore me to secrecy when I mentioned it to him.”
    â€œManfred?”
    â€œManfred Fenster.”

6
    In a dull time, even a small task is welcome. Phil Knight felt that he and Father Carmody were colluding in making a mountain out of a molehill by pretending that the threatening letter the provost had received was anything more than a prank. What made it hard to dismiss was the fact that a similar threat had been made against the football coach.
    â€œYou really think there’s anything to it, Father?”
    â€œEven as a hoax it could make bad publicity for the university.”
    â€œMaybe that’s the idea. Just a little rumble in the media.”
    â€œThat’s where you come in, Phil. Those letters have to be collected and their recipients warned against making them known.” Father Carmody paused. “How many people already know of them? Someone is sure to say something that will be picked up by the press.”
    There seemed to be four letters in all:
    to the provost
    to the dean of Arts & Letters
    to the football coach
    to Professor Oscar Wack
    â€œWho’s he, Roger?”
    Roger smiled. “He teaches theory.”
    â€œTheory of what?”
    â€œHe’s in the English department. I think he has joint appointments in theology and law. He is a tireless writer to campus publications. That is odd since he is, as they say, widely published in his field. Cabalistic pieces on various works of literature. I am told he despises me.”
    â€œDo you know him?”
    â€œHe snubs me. When he