From the Editor

It is mystery fiction in the classic mold, set in an Oxford college and with a murder plot worthy of Dorothy Sayers or P. D. James. But it is not fictional.

In his memoirs, Sir Kenneth Dover, the distinguished classicist and former head of Corpus Christi, Oxford, recounts that he had come to regard Dr. Trevor Aston, historian and fellow of Corpus Christi, as a thorough nuisance: half mad, drunk by mid-morning, abusive to students, staff, and colleagues. Thus: “One morning he staggered out of his urine-soaked bed, fell down some stairs, shouted at two cleaners who tried to help him, made his way to the porter’s lodge (attracting unfriendly looks from members of a conference staying in college) and got the porter to ring for a taxi to take him to Heathrow. But he was too drunk to find his money or his air ticket to Spain. So he returned to his room.”

About the Author

John O’Sullivan

John O’Sullivan is a senior fellow at National Review Institute and a contributing editor of National Review.

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It is mystery fiction in the classic mold, set in an Oxford college and with a murder plot worthy of Dorothy Sayers or P. D. James. But it is not fictional.

In his memoirs, Sir Kenneth Dover, the distinguished classicist and former head of Corpus Christi, Oxford, recounts that he had come to regard Dr. Trevor Aston, historian and fellow of Corpus Christi, as a thorough nuisance: half mad, drunk by mid-morning, abusive to students, staff, and colleagues. Thus: “One morning he staggered out of his urine-soaked bed, fell down some stairs, shouted at two cleaners who tried to help him, made his way to the porter’s lodge (attracting unfriendly looks from members of a conference staying in college) and got the porter to ring for a taxi to take him to Heathrow. But he was too drunk to find his money or his air ticket to Spain. So he returned to his room.”