‘Who’s killing all these people?’
‘The Pieman. Please make it stop.’
‘Who is the Pieman?’
‘He’s dead.’
‘I know he’s dead, you fool; this is not a good time to split hairs. Who was the Pieman?’
‘Make it stop,’ he screamed, ‘and I’ll tell you.’
I considered.
‘Please!’ he screamed.
I continued to consider. The mouse was tearing up strands of human tissue now, like a heroin addict whose stash has fallen between the floor boards. Caleb screamed again. I lifted the bowl and took out the mouse. I put him back in his cage. Caleb panted heavily as he tried to capture his breath.
‘The Pieman,’ he said, ‘was one of us. There were five of us who survived the Mission House siege, me, Erw Watcyns, the Pieman and two others who have since died. We did something terrible – I can’t tell you what it was – and we swore a vow of silence. We swore that so long as we all lived we wouldn’t speak about the shameful thing we did. But because of this Hoffmann guy we keep getting people every now and again who turn up asking about what happened. Sometimes they’re spooks or spies, sometimes Wild West nuts – you know the type: looking for the lost grandchild of the Sundance Kid. Erw and the Pieman were the assassins. Anyone who turned up and got too nosey, they took care of it.’
‘You mean killed them?’
‘Yes.’
‘What was this terrible thing you did, the reason so many harmless innocent people had to die?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘You will.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Don’t make me put the mouse back.’
‘I can’t tell you. I’ve sworn an oath to my buddies, my brothers in arms. There’s no finer fellowship to be found on God’s lousy earth, no bond of love more unbreakable than that. Compared to that, a man’s love for a woman is nothing. It can grow cold with time, even with the best intentions it can, but the love forged in the crucible of battle never dies and never wanes. I would happily die rather than betray those beautiful comrades.’
I took the mouse out of its cage and popped it under the Pyrex dish. ‘Beautiful speech, Caleb. I’m touched. It’s not often a man gets to express such noble sentiments on his deathbed. For most of us in this mundane quotidian fallen world, the best we get to say is, “Please find a good home for the cat.” But you! You, my friend, are different. You have transmogrified this bleak grey December afternoon with the beauty of your requiem. You have transfigured this filthy evil-smelling room you inhabit, and turned it into a palace. On this day, though you are about to die unpleasantly, you should scorn to change your state with kings.’ I relit the firelighters.
This time Tiresias went straight to work on the tunnel project. Caleb began to scream.
‘I’m leaving now,’ I said. ‘Is there anything you want to say to me?’
‘Go and jump in the lake!’
‘You’re a brave guy, Caleb, I’ll say that much. I’ll tell them at your funeral.’
I stood up and walked to the door. ‘Bon appétit, little mouse.’ I walked out and listened. He screamed a couple of times and then said, ‘Wait! Come back.’
I went back in. ‘Yes?’ ‘Over there by the window, there’s a knapsack . . . Oh my God, this hurts. Please!’
I took the mouse out of the glass bowl. ‘What about the knapsack?’
‘In the front pocket on the right, there are some ampoules of morphine. Can you fetch them?’
‘Huh?’
‘For the pain.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I don’t think I can bear the pain.’
‘That’s the whole bloody point.’
‘No it isn’t.’
‘Yes it is! It’s supposed to hurt so much that you scream and yell and cry out for your ma and eventually, unable to bear it any longer, you tell me what I want to know. It’s called torture.’
‘But I’m not going to tell you, I would die before I told you. All I’m asking is for you to give me a dignified death.’
‘You don’t give someone morphine if they’re being tortured. It wouldn’t be torture if you did.’
‘No one will know. I won’t tell. I’ll be dead.’
‘What is wrong with you? I don’t care about that! I’m torturing you. You can’t have morphine. Jesus!’
‘All right. Keep your hair on. I only asked.’
‘The whole point is you tell me because you can’t bear the pain. That’s what torture is.’
‘Look, I understand that you’re upset. But I can see you are a merciful man.’
‘No, I’m not. I’m not!’
‘You are. You are driven to do this by some desperate need that I do not ask about. I can see the gentleness in your soul. And because of that I ask for some relief from the pain.’
‘The answer’s no. No morphine under any circumstances.’
‘In that case, you may as well proceed.’
‘Caleb, please tell me about your secret shame. Don’t make me do this.’
‘I cannot.’
I reached for the mouse.
‘One other thing,’ he said.
‘Yes?’
‘You’re doing it wrong.’
‘Doing what wrong?’
‘The torture. If you carry on like that the mouse will die of suffocation. You’re supposed to use a cage – that’s what they did. And you’re wrong, it wasn’t the Romans, it was the Spanish Inquisition. If you use a metal cage, the mouse can still tunnel through the flesh but he gets plenty of air.’
I looked at him and was unable to control my expression. It was one of the purest astonishment. ‘But why should I care if the mouse dies?’
‘Because it’s me you want to torment, isn’t it? This has got nothing to do with Tiresias.’
‘What if I spare the mouse? Will you talk?’
‘Don’t be stupid. I just thought—’
‘Look, you fool, all I want is to hear the story. I don’t care if I have to kill you to get it, so why should I give a damn about the mouse? OK, I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll put a little wedge under the edge of the dish so some air can get in. How does that sound?’
He thought about it and said. ‘Yes, that should do it. And please, when I’m dead, don’t let the cats get him.’
‘Is there anything else you want? You strike me as a pretty damn fussy guy.’
‘Despite everything I believe you are a fair man, a merciful man.’
‘Don’t bet on it.’
‘A Christian.’
‘Definitely not that.’
‘Ah, yes, you deny it but I’ve presided at scenes like this too often in the past to be fooled. And because I can see the goodness in your heart I want to make one final request.’
‘If it’s cigarettes I’m fresh out.’
‘No, I want a strop.’
‘A strop?’
‘You know, a piece of leather to bite on so my screams don’t upset Tiresias. Loud noises spook him.’
‘What about my shoe? You could bite on that.’
‘I am in no position to bargain. The offer of your shoe is acceptable.’
I took it off, held it over his mouth and looked with horror as he raised his head towards it. He said, ‘I’m sorry, it might scuff the polish a bit.’
‘It’s OK, there’s a shoeshine kid at the Cliff Railway Station.’
‘Make sure he doesn’t overcharge you. Farewell, Tiresias, I forgive you.’ He clenched his teeth on the shoe and closed his eyes.
I watched for a second or two, holding the struggling mouse by its tail. I put the mouse back into its cage and tore the shoe out of Caleb’s mouth. I sat down onto the floor, defeated by either his magnificent spirit or a magnificent bluff.
Caleb opened his eyes and saw my dejection. ‘Please don’t take it to heart,’ he said. ‘It isn’t easy to torture a man to death. Very few people are capable of it. I tried telling those people from Odessa, they were the same when they tortured me. I said to them, “Don’t regard my refusal to tell you what you want as a criticism of your skills. You are excellent torturers, all of you.”’