Yeghen entered the police station. He found himself in a big room with whitewashed walls containing only a desk, behind which sat a sergeant. This man was reading his newspaper with a rather comically laborious look. Yeghen approached him, took out his subpoena, and waited. The sergeant stopped reading and raised his head.
“What is it?”
He looked at Yeghen as if he suspected him of the worst misdeeds. Yeghen knew this look. His ugliness always exposed him to criminal prosecution; he represented the very image of the alleged killer for these obtuse souls. He smiled and handed his summons to the sergeant. The man took the piece of paper, glanced at it, then said, “Wait here! Don’t move.”
“I’m not going to flee,” said Yeghen.
The sergeant pressed a button while watching him with a sullen look. After a moment, a bull-like policeman appeared and saluted according to regulations.
“At your command, Sergeant.”
“Take this man to the inspector.”
The policeman saluted again, then motioned for Yeghen to follow him.
“Come on.”
Yeghen followed the policeman along a narrow corridor. Contemplating the massive shoulders of his guide, he felt his will waver. To fall into the hands of a torturer like that meant certain death. The policeman stopped at a door and knocked. A voice answered from within. The policeman opened the door and pushed Yeghen ahead of him.
“Sir! The sergeant told me to bring you this man.”
“Very well,” said Nour El Dine. “You may go.”
The inspector was seated behind his desk with the collar of his tunic open, his features glum and tense. He had not shaved and seemed not to have slept all night. His eyes burned feverishly, and the look he gave Yeghen was that of a man come to the end of a tragedy.
“Approach. I am glad to see you.”
“Greetings, Inspector,” said Yeghen.
“You are late,” Nour El Dine returned. “For that alone you deserve a week in prison.”
“Excuse me, Excellency! I don’t have an alarm clock.”
“Stop the jokes. I’m not in a mood to joke. I warn you, this time it is serious. You won’t get out of here alive.”
Without being invited, Yeghen took a chair and sat down.
“I’ve already made my will,” he said.
Nour El Dine was quiet; he tried to control the rage that was choking him. From his first words, Yeghen had shown him the insanity of this interrogation. These people never took anything seriously. Nour El Dine felt much more comfortable with the vagabonds, the rabble born to commit sordid offenses. At least you could frighten them. But these disreputable intellectuals were forever breaking down all sense of authority in him. Nour El Dine considered himself a reasonable being; that is, he believed in the existence of the government and in the speeches pronounced by ministers. He had blind faith in the institutions of the civilized world. The attitude of Yeghen and his fellow men always disconcerted him; they appeared not to realize that there was a government. They were not against the government; they simply were not aware of it.
“I will no longer tolerate your stupid jokes. You are here to be interrogated about a murder!”
Yeghen smiled smugly.
“Your servant, Excellency!”
He sat huddled on his chair, ready for any eventuality. He knew that all this would end in blows because he would not say anything. Through the bars of the closed window he saw the animation of the square and heard the muffled noise of traffic. So life continued outdoors.
“Very well,” said the inspector, “let’s start at the beginning. But I warn you one more time that this is serious, and that I want precise answers. I know you are aware of many things.”
“Me?” said Yeghen. “Really, Inspector, you honor me too much.”
“Tell me: Were you at Set Amina’s the day of the murder?”
Yeghen pretended to reflect.
“To tell you the truth, Excellency, I was sleeping.”
“Where were you when Arnaba was assassinated?”
“I just told you, Excellency, I was sleeping.”
Nour El Dine kept his composure; his face serious, he was silent for a moment. There was no doubt that Yeghen was playing dumb.
“I know for a fact that you were at the brothel on that day. Who did you meet there?”
“I was sleeping, Excellency.”
“No one came while you were asleep?”
“How should I know, Excellency, since I was asleep?”
“By Allah! Do you sleep all the time, you son of a bitch!”
“Excuse me, Inspector, but I didn’t know that sleeping was against the law.”
“Well, I’m going to wake you up.”
Nour El Dine was overwhelmed; the stupidity of such a defense went beyond his understanding. The wretch was sleeping! He must have taken drugs before coming. He knew Yeghen was capable of hanging on to this unshakable position until the end.
“I’ll give you five minutes to think it over. After that, I know how to make you talk.”
Yeghen was about to answer that he was sleeping, but he realized the inspector hadn’t asked him any questions, and he was silent. In five minutes the torture would begin. He set about thinking of frivolous things.
Nour El Dine looked at his watch, then sat back in his chair and waited. This interrogation was turning into a joke. It would only serve to further shake his own confidence in authority and justice. He was now convinced that Yeghen would not say anything; he would keep his secret even under torture. As this attitude did not tally with his character, it was rather disturbing. Nour El Dine was certain that Yeghen knew who the murderer was. So why was he keeping quiet? The murderer could not pay him to keep quiet; the crime had brought nothing to its perpetrator. It was not a question of honor either. Nour El Dine was sufficiently aware of Yeghen’s past to know that he never bothered about certain prejudices.
He asked, “You’re not afraid of a beating?”
“No,” answered Yeghen.
“That’s not possible.”
“Beatings are minor incidents in the life of a man like me, Inspector! Minor incidents.”
“You have no dignity.”
Yeghen laughed.
“You remind me of my mother,” he said. “My mother always tells me that my father was an honorable man and that I am the shame of the family.”
“You have no emotions? You feel nothing?”
“Yes, Excellency! At this moment I feel an immense astonishment.”
“What kind of astonishment?”
“I am astonished that a man like you spends his time playing such unsatisfying games.”
“How would you like me to spend my time?”
“Go for a walk,” Yeghen answered.
Nour El Dine became livid.
“I see there is nothing to be done,” he said. “You asked for it.”