Death With Dostoevsky

by Katherine Bolger Hyde

  Sidney’s eyes narrowed, and in that moment Emily could have sworn their pupils took on an elliptical shape like those of a cat or a poisonous snake. It must have been a trick of the light. In a second he returned to his usual slightly mocking demeanor.

  ‘Making a play for you, is she, Daniel? Not surprising. You are the gloomy Byronic hero type women seem to go for. Though why that is I’ll never understand.’

  Daniel shot him a disgusted look but did not deign to answer. Sidney glanced from him to Svetlana, then leaned back in his chair.

  ‘You know, I just might be able to help you with your problem,’ he said.

  ‘How on earth could you do that?’ Svetlana burst out in spite of herself.

  ‘I have my little ways. Don’t you worry about a thing, chickadees. Sidney is on the case.’ He fell to his lunch with a self-satisfied smile.

  Daniel mumbled, ‘The only thing that could help is for Curzon to die.’

  ‘Oh, Daniel!’ Svetlana exclaimed. ‘Don’t say that. I know she’s a terrible person, but she’s still a person. You can’t wish her dead.’

  ‘Why not? Look at all the lives she’s ruined. We’d all be better off without her.’

  ‘So we get her fired. Not killed.’

  ‘And then she moves on to disrupt some other college in the same way. That’s no solution. Why shouldn’t one person die for the good of the community?’

  ‘That’s what the Sanhedrin said about Christ,’ Emily said quietly. ‘In fact, that’s been the justification tyrants throughout history have given for getting rid of anyone who opposes them – even up to and including genocide.’

  Daniel reddened. ‘That’s different. Jesus wasn’t harming people; he was just undermining the Sanhedrin’s authority. Same with all those tyrants and their victims. Curzon is a genuine menace.’

  ‘I’m not disputing that. But our system of justice exists to remove people like that from society. We don’t have to resort to vigilante killing to get rid of them.’

  Sidney cleared his throat in that particular way that is meant to announce a communication of some profundity. ‘I wouldn’t say that one must die for the sake of the community. The community can take care of itself. But I would say that the inferior must give way to the superior. Daniel is a superior man, and a worm like Curzon should not be allowed to stand in his way.’

  Svetlana’s eyes went wide, and Daniel sat up straight for the first time. ‘That’s not the point at all,’ he said. ‘No one person has more intrinsic right to exist than another. We’re all …’

  He hesitated, and Emily finished the sentence she suspected he couldn’t consciously endorse, though at his core he knew it to be true. ‘We’re all made in the image of God. Equal in his sight. That’s exactly why no one of us individually has the right to decide whether another person lives or dies.’

  Sidney snorted. ‘God is dead. Nietzsche proved that over a century ago.’

  ‘He asserted it. He didn’t prove it. Nietzsche saw God as a social construct, and in that sense I’d have to say he’s right: God as a social construct is dead because people are no longer willing to believe in him, or more precisely to follow him. But God himself is real and transcendent and infinite. He cannot die, because he is the source of life itself.’

  Svetlana nodded agreement, while Daniel returned to slumping over his tray, presumably too conflicted in his own heart to either refute or support her argument. But Sidney simply smiled a smug, superior smile. ‘How quaint to see an educated person in the twenty-first century embracing such outmoded ideas. I’m not surprised you’re heading toward retirement, Professor.’

  Emily bridled but forced herself to remain calm. ‘I seem to remember some graffiti from the women’s restroom in the library back in my day. I suppose they’ve replaced those stalls long ago. Someone wrote, God is dead. – Nietzsche. Nietzsche is dead. – God. I don’t think it was meant seriously, but you do have to consider – two thousand years after Christ’s death, the church he founded is billions strong all over the world, and Christians are still being martyred for their faith every day. Little more than a century after Nietzsche’s demise, you’ll find very few people who’d be willing to die for the ideas he propounded. I’d be surprised if you could find even one.’

  ‘Of course no one would die for them, because the one who believes with Nietzsche is the one who deserves to live. The Übermensch.’

  Emily knew an unpersuadable audience when she saw one. ‘We’re talking in circles here. The point is, we do need to get rid of Taylor Curzon, but we need to do that through the proper channels, by getting her fired. I would like to say for the record, I’m sure neither of you is serious about taking the law into your own hands. Are you?’

  Sidney gave a smarmy smile. ‘Of course not. We’re just having a philosophical discussion. That’s what Bedies do.’

  Daniel merely grunted, but when Svetlana pressed his hand he grudgingly shook his head.

  ‘If it came to the point,’ Svetlana said, ‘I’m sure Daniel wouldn’t actually be able to take another person’s life. Would you, Daniel?’

  ‘No,’ he mumbled. ‘Too much of a damn coward in the end.’

  ‘It isn’t cowardly to refrain from doing evil,’ Emily said. ‘Sometimes it takes all the courage in the world.’

  EIGHT

  Outside the Commons, Sidney turned eastward toward the far block of dorms. ‘See you later, then,’ he said placidly as he walked away.

  Svetlana checked the time on her phone. ‘I’m supposed to meet my father pretty soon. I’d better stay here.’

  Daniel gave her a quick hug. ‘Come to the library when you can.’ He turned to Emily. ‘Going that way, Professor?’

  ‘Emily, please. Yes, I’ll walk with you.’

  She deliberately set a slow pace, glad to have this opportunity for a tête-à-tête with Daniel. She was growing increasingly concerned for his emotional well-being. ‘What is it with Sidney, anyway?’

  Daniel rolled his eyes. ‘God knows where he’s really coming from. That whole Nietzsche thing is just an act. He doesn’t have the gumption of a snail to actually do anything. But the “superior being” bit … I’m not one, of course, but I think he may really believe I am.’

  Daniel shivered and pulled his coat collar closer around his neck. The cold had intensified over the course of the week. Even at midday, frost crunched beneath their feet as they cut a corner across a small patch of grass.

  ‘He’s like a leech,’ Daniel went on. ‘Ever since we met in Russian Three Hundred last semester, he’s been following me around like Colin Creevey trailing Harry Potter with his camera. Sidney’s never had an original thought in his life, and he’s trying to live off mine. Signs up for the same classes – God knows how he knows what I’m going to take – and every time a paper’s due, he pumps me about what I’m writing and then comes up with some stupid pastiche on the same subject. Drives me round the bend.’

  ‘How do you suppose he thought he could “help” with Curzon?’

  ‘Maybe he’s hoping to turn her attentions toward himself.’

  ‘Good luck to him with that. Curzon has many faults, but poor taste in men isn’t one of them. She always goes for the best.’

  He snorted. ‘You’d think she’d leave me alone, then. I’m hardly the healthiest specimen. Maybe if I told her—’ He cut off abruptly, and Emily mentally supplied the rest of the sentence: about my epilepsy.

  ‘What we need is a magic wand,’ she said. ‘We could do a presto reverso spell or something to make Svetlana’s father love you – not in the same way, of course – and Curzon be indifferent to you.’

  Daniel gave a dark, mirthless laugh. ‘I’ll write to J.K. Rowling. See what she can come up with.’

  ‘Seriously, though, what does Saul Goldstein have against you? It can’t be your Russian descent, since he’s married to a Russian.’

  ‘No, he’s not one to obsess about the anti-Semitic history of Tsarist Russia. He would rather I w
ere Jewish, of course. I think on some obscure level he feels guilty about marrying a Gentile and wants Sveta to make up for it by marrying a Jew. Not that it would do any good – his grandchildren would still be Gentiles, because Jewishness descends through the maternal line. But I don’t think that’s the most important thing to him. If I had plenty of money, or even the prospect of a solid, high-six-figure income, he’d be more than ready to overlook my ancestry.’

  Emily sighed. ‘You won’t get to the high six figures as an academic, that’s for sure. If it’s not too intrusive – what is your family’s situation?’

  ‘My parents were academics, too. Typical Russians – money is seen as some sort of abstract quantity that either comes to you or doesn’t. So of course it doesn’t. They were descended from the landed gentry, way back, but any crumbs of wealth my great-great-grandparents managed to salvage from the Revolution were gone before they made it to America. We’ve been scraping by ever since. And since my father died a couple of years ago – leaving no savings, no insurance, nothing – we’ve been scraping the bottom of the barrel.’

  ‘I’m so sorry to hear about your father. Did he die while you were here at Bede?’

  Daniel nodded. ‘Sophomore year. I wanted to leave right then – go to work, bring in some money instead of racking up debt – but my mother wouldn’t hear of it. Neither would my little sister. She should have started college last year, but she’s waiting till I finish, and then it’ll only be a state school. So I have to graduate this semester no matter what. I can’t let them down.’

  ‘And if Curzon fails you?’

  ‘I won’t have enough units to graduate.’

  ‘That’s a lot of pressure to be under.’ No wonder his health was precarious. ‘I suppose you’re here on scholarship, then?’

  ‘I have a small scholarship, plus a school grant. And a heck of a lot of student loans that I’ll probably never be able to repay.’

  Emily would have been in that situation as a student herself if not for Aunt Beatrice, who had paid her way through Bede. She longed to be able to do something financially to help this worthy young man, but she knew he would be too proud to accept it. Part of her legacy was earmarked to help future students like him, but she wanted to help Daniel himself. Maybe she could at least create an impromptu, anonymous scholarship to get him through his last semester without additional loans. She’d have to talk to the financial aid department. Even more important, though, was getting Curzon off his back so he could pass with his integrity intact.

  But that could wait till Monday. She had enough on her plate right now, and she was already counting the hours until she would see Luke. She checked her watch. About twenty-two hours now. And probably another eight or so after that before she’d have the opportunity to shift on to his stalwart shoulders the burden of memory she’d been carrying for the last two days.

  Late that afternoon, Emily and Marguerite met by appointment at Grounds for Debate, their favorite coffee shop just up the hill from campus. The snacks here were better and the atmosphere more private than at the Paradox, and the pithy quotes from famous pundits that lined the walls provided entertainment while waiting for one’s order.

  ‘How did it go with Richard?’ Emily asked when they were seated.

  Marguerite shook her head. ‘Pas si bien. He is perfectly aware of her proclivities but showed no inclination to do anything about them. In fact—’ Marguerite broke off and, to Emily’s amazement, actually blushed.

  ‘In fact what?’

  ‘He put the moves on me, and I refused him. Not emphatically, tu comprends, but playfully, as if I might give in another time – which, of course, I have no intention of doing. But he took my refusal seriously, and he said – enfin, I do not recall exactly what he said, but I believe his intention is to try his luck with Taylor before he agrees to any proceedings against her.’

  Emily snorted in disgust. ‘He is incorrigible. But if you think about it, that’s likely to work in our favor. I mean, what are the chances he’d actually get anywhere with her?’

  ‘Less than zero, I should think. He is about her own age, c’est-à-dire twenty years too old for her. And I cannot imagine he was ever in her league in terms of looks.’

  ‘So all we need to do is bide our time until his ardor turns to resentment, and then he’ll be just as hot to get her out as we are.’

  ‘A foregone conclusion.’

  They sipped their coffee pensively for a few minutes, then Emily said, ‘I met someone yesterday who might be more to your liking than Richard.’

  Marguerite was instantly alert. ‘Who is this man?’

  ‘Oddly enough, he’s Taylor’s ex-husband. But you’d never think to look at him that his judgment had ever been so poor. He’s quite charming. And handsome. And British. And rich.’

  ‘Already I like this man. When can you introduce us?’

  ‘He’s supposed to call me as soon as he finds some sort of solid evidence of Taylor’s misbehavior with students. But I should warn you, you may not be his type – I got the distinct impression he was attracted to me.’

  Marguerite waved a dismissive hand. ‘You have Luke. You will not encourage this paragon, and he will move on. And I shall be there when he does.’

  Emily was slightly offended by Marguerite’s confidence that she could so easily divert any man’s attention from Emily herself, but after all, she did not intend to encourage Douglas.

  ‘What is his name, this homme très intéressant?’

  ‘Douglas. Douglas Curzon. And they’re not actually divorced yet, though they must have been separated for some time – he’s in town to wrestle with her over their settlement.’

  Marguerite made a disappointed moue. ‘Then he will be angry. I do not care for angry men. They are pas si amusants. Perhaps I will leave him to nurse his wounds in solitude once you have sent him away.’

  ‘Or maybe a miracle will happen and Taylor will let him have what he wants. He’ll have some leverage over her now with disciplinary action in the air. Although that’s bad for us if he agrees to withhold his evidence in exchange for her cooperation.’

  ‘Que será, será. One way or another, we will bring her down.’

  Marguerite dropped Emily back at the campus on her way home. Emily had planned to do some work before dinnertime, but she felt suddenly exhausted by all the drama of the last few days. It was Friday, after all. She decided instead to collect her things and head home to eat her dinner of deli takeout, finish watching Pride and Prejudice, and go to bed.

  But as she approached the library, she saw Douglas Curzon walking toward her on an adjoining path. He held up an arresting hand, and she stopped to wait for him.

  ‘Have you found anything?’ she said by way of greeting, then felt ashamed of her own rudeness. But after all, she had promised herself not to encourage him.

  ‘Nothing of significance quite yet, but I have some ideas of lines I might pursue. If you would do me the honor of dining with me, we could pool our resources and see what we can come up with.’

  He made it sound so innocent, she was tempted to accept. After all, they were embarked on a joint venture of sorts, and they both needed to eat; what was the harm in combining a strategy session with dinner?

  But then she caught the look in Douglas’s eye and thought about how she would relate this event to Luke when he arrived in the morning. There was no spin she could put on it that would not bring a tinge of guilt to her recital.

  ‘Thanks so much, but I’m afraid I’m done in. I need to put my feet up and zone out tonight.’

  He looked crestfallen but quickly recovered. ‘Perhaps tomorrow night? You will take Saturday off from your studies, I presume?’

  ‘My fiancé is coming to town for the weekend.’ There, she’d put herself out of harm’s way in one stroke.

  He closed his eyes with a deep breath. ‘I should have known a charming lady like yourself would not be unattached.’

  The pearl-and-emerald ring on he
r left ring finger might have provided a little clue as well, she thought. Perhaps he’d ignored it on purpose.

  ‘We can touch base on Monday,’ she said. ‘Assuming you’ll still be around?’

  ‘Very well, Monday it is. I wish you a pleasant weekend.’ He made her a small courtly bow and walked away.

  It was a good thing Luke would be there in the morning. She needed him right now on so many levels – not least to keep the handsome, cultured, gentlemanly Douglas from turning her head.

  NINE

  After less than a week’s separation, Emily was not expecting the intense rush of love and relief that overwhelmed her when Luke appeared at her front door. He had been with her through several periods of great stress in the past six months, and she had come to rely on him more than she knew. His solid presence – six foot three of muscle backed up by a natural air of steadiness and authority – had become her rock. She couldn’t imagine how she’d gotten along without him during all the years they were apart. And now she was feeling especially vulnerable – but any discussion of that would have to wait until the business of the day had been accomplished.

  Appropriately effusive greetings finished, he asked her, ‘So what’s the plan?’

  ‘Lunch first – Baumgartner’s up the road has great sandwiches – then the Apple Store downtown.’

  ‘You already figured out you want a Mac?’

  ‘I think so. Marguerite has a MacBook, and it’s so sleek and compact, it seems like it would blend in at Windy Corner more than most of the other laptops I’ve seen. Plus, according to her, the what-do-you-call-it – interface? – is more intuitive than that of a PC. I’ve heard so many people whine about Windows over the years, I’d prefer to avoid it if possible.’

  ‘Sounds good to me. We have PCs at the office, but my personal machine is a Mac. Only thing I can see in a PC’s favor is the cost, and I’m guessing you don’t care about saving a few hundred bucks.’

  ‘Not if I have to pay for it in frustration. Learning the basics of computer use is going to be hard enough without having an inanimate object working against me.’