Double Confusion

Pliny writes:

Most amicable greetings to Professor Healey, from Pliny the Elder,

Sir, I am indeed that Pliny who wrote a story that was published in Velosophy. If I recall, it was a mystery, about a disappearing bicycle, in which I featured as an amateur detective, in the process being accidentally taken for the Messiah by the singing members of the local Korean Church. I am not too modest to admit that my story was enthusiastically received. The editors of Velosophy are therefore well disposed towards me, and I shall be very pleased to put your name forward as a potential contributor. Your interest in bicycle philosophy does you great credit, sir.
I am, etc...

He sends the email. A short time later he receives a reply.

Pliny: Oh, drat and blast!

Me: What's the matter?

Pliny: I've sent it to the wrong Professor Healy! How could I do it twice?

Me: You mean you sent it to the Classics Professor Healy, the one you were going to complain to?

Pliny: Yes, and now he has replied, thanking me for the invitation to contribute to Velosophy.
Listen to this:

Dear Gaius Plinius Secundus, what a wonderful surprise to hear from you after all this time. I had not realised you were still alive! I hope you do not mind me saying so. I was delighted, if a little surprised, to be invited to write something for the magazine Velosophy. It is a great honour, I understand. Your own story, which I have not read, sounds a remarkable one. I hope I shall come up with something if not as good, at least worthy of your confidence in me as a writer. I will admit, many years have passed since I last rode a bicycle. PS. Just a small point. My name is spelled Healy.

Me: Is that it?

Pliny: What do you mean is that it? It's a disaster! I can hardly write him a complaining letter now. And furthermore I am obliged to write to the editors on behalf of two Professor Healeys or Healys, both of whom are virtually unknown to me.

Me: Are you fearful for your reputation?

Pliny: No, no. Of course not.

Confused and Surprised

Pliny is reading an email. He looks puzzled.

Me: Is that an answer to your complaining letter?

Pliny: Yes, but I do not understand it. It appears to be from Professor John F Healey, but he claims he is not the translator of my Natural History.

Me: How peculiar. What does he say?

Pliny: He says, Dear friend, I have just now received your letter of complaint. I fear you have sent it to the wrong man. I am Professor John F Healey, Professor of Semitic, Ugaritic and Aramaic studies at Manchester University. The man deserving of your ire is Professor John F Healy, Professor of Classics at London University. I suggest you reroute your complaint to him.

Me: Oh dear, Pliny, you seem to have sent your complaint to the wrong Professor Healy. Yes look, it's Healy not Healey. Didn't you check?

Pliny: No. Who would have thought there would be two of them?

Me: There aren't two of them. One is a Healy and the other is a Healey. And they are professors of completely different things.

Pliny: Well, no harm is done. I shall now send my complaining letter to Professor Healy. And meanwhile I have made a new acquaintance. Professor Healey is interested in continuing our correspondence. He has added a little footnote to his missive.

Me: What does he say?

Pliny: Well, it is a little strange.

Me: Why am I not surprised?

Pliny: I think you will be. Professor Healey asks if I am that same Pliny who once wrote an article for the magazine Velosophy. It seems he is a bicycle philosopher and has written something on the topic. He asks if I would care to put in a good word for him with the editors.

Me: My goodness! You're right, I am surprised.