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In a candle-lit room, we see FEDYA. He has lost on the last spin. He searches through his pockets for more money to place. He places his last coins. The wheel spins again. He loses.

As he plays, we see the actor transitioning from MITYA to KOLYA.

[KOLYA]: No-one but me at the train station, the morning he arrived back from the east.

He’d been forgotten. He understood that. Knew his moment had passed. That there were other writers—lesser writers—who had slipped all too readily into his place.

Ten years he was in that prison—and every day of it showed on his face, like a shadow of hell.

He is now fully KOLYA.

SCENE SIX

KOLYA’s office. FEDYA waits while KOLYA reads a letter. With an old rag, FEDYA dabs at a cut on his head.

KOLYA: What happened to your head?

FEDYA: Somebody hit me. With a lump of wood.

KOLYA: Who have you upset this time?

FEDYA: It was a drunk. By Kokushkin Bridge. Lashing out at whoever passed.

KOLYA: Been to one of your dens, have you?

FEDYA: It was the only way to decide whether to give it to you or tear it up.

KOLYA: I take it you lost then.

[Finishes reading the letter] It’s your hand-writing, Fedya.

You said it was the students’ letter.

FEDYA: It needed revising.

KOLYA: Yours is the only name on it.

A beat.

KOLYA: You’re making good progress on the novel then? If you’ve time to be writing letters to the authorities.

FEDYA: Will you print it?

KOLYA: Why not send it to them quietly?

FEDYA: I don’t want it to disappear.

KOLYA: Bombs in the middle of the city, Fedya. This is something new. Unpredictable.

FEDYA: No-one was killed. No-one was injured.

KOLYA: Livelihoods were destroyed. Peace of mind.

Was it Elena Petrovna persuaded you to write it?

FEDYA: Shall I find another publisher?

KOLYA: Forever the gambler, Fedya. Forever certain there’s no way you can lose—but lose it all you inevitably do.

FEDYA: One win is enough to counter a hundred losses.

A beat.

KOLYA: The novel progresses well then?

FEDYA: I have no paper. Ink. The stationer—at Gostiny Dvor—he refuses to give me my order. Not until I’ve paid him.

KOLYA: Is the novel even started?

FEDYA: It can’t be done. / It’s impossible.

KOLYA: It must be done. / You have a contract—

FEDYA: I have other things—important things—

KOLYA: [referring to the letter] Like this?

FEDYA: Ideas. Pages and pages of them.

About a man who murders his father.

KOLYA: Then write it and send it to Stellovsky.

FEDYA: I wouldn’t waste it on a crook like him.

KOLYA: You signed his contract. You took his money.

FEDYA: I won’t rush out another half-baked novel just to satisfy him—

KOLYA: You write this novel or he owns you—

FEDYA: I won’t give him this story—

KOLYA: Then throw something together. Anything.

FEDYA: How?

KOLYA: I don’t know.

I don’t know.

We’ll find an answer, Fedya. We always have, you and I.

[Holding out money] For the stationer.

FEDYA: And the letter?

KOLYA: I’ll put it to the censorship committee.

Must it be under your name?

FEDYA: There’s not a word there I fear.

KOLYA: Under ordinary circumstances, perhaps not. But these are no longer ordinary circumstances.

A beat.

KOLYA gestures towards the money again. FEDYA takes it.

SCENE SEVEN

The street outside a coffee house. KARAKOZOV is distributing leaflets.

STUDENT/S: [off] We have no need of a power that persecutes its people—a power that thwarts the development of our nation. We have no need of a power that raises corruption and self-seeking as its banner. Let the words of the people—the deeds of the people—be its end. Whatever the cost, so must it be.

During this, ANNA arrives. She is looking around, trying to find the place she is meant to be.

At the sound of a whistle, KARAKOZOV hurries away. As he does so, he pushes a leaflet into ANNA’s hands. She is looking at it when KOLYA approaches.

KOLYA: [referring to the leaflet] Yours?

ANNA: No.

No.

I don’t understand it. All this hate.

KOLYA: You’ve taken the words from my mouth.

ANNA: You’re Nikolai Ivanovich?

KOLYA: And you’re Anna. But you must call me Kolya.

Come inside. I’ll order us coffee.

As they move inside, KOLYA gestures for two coffees. They sit.

During the following, coffee and cakes etc are served.

KOLYA: [handing her a note] Stolyarney Lane—house of Alonkin—apartment 13. Ask for Dostoyevsky.

ANNA: Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoyevsky?

KOLYA: Your professor didn’t tell you?

ANNA: No…

KOLYA: I need someone who knows his work—

ANNA: I know his work, yes—

KOLYA: The importance of what he does—

ANNA: I understand—

KOLYA: I’m sure you do—

ANNA: But Nikolai Ivanovich—

KOLYA: Kolya.

ANNA: Kolya—

The novelist Dostoyevsky?

KOLYA: He’s nothing to be afraid of. Believe me.

Your professor said you were top of your class.

ANNA: I was.

KOLYA: Then you’re already cleverer than Fedya.

Work hard—and keep working him hard—and all of Russia will be in your debt.

[Indicating the note] The directions are there. And a small down-payment. To get you started.

He offers her a cake/pastry. She hesitates, then takes one.

KOLYA: Yes. We have each other’s trust. I feel it.

Together, Anna, we will see this done.

SCENE EIGHT

FEDYA’s door. ANNA knocks. Waits. Listens, her ear close to the door. Knocks again.

LANDLADY: [off] He’s not there.

ANNA: I was told to keep knocking. That he pretends not to hear.

LANDLADY: [off] He’s never there this time of day.

ANNA: I heard voices. Inside.

LANDLADY: [off] Then you want to stay well clear. He’s a madman. Would cut your throat as soon as look at you.

ANNA: You’re mistaken, I’m sure—

LANDLADY: [off] He has no money. He won’t be able to pay you. No matter what services you’re offering.

ANNA: I’m not—

He’s not—

I’m a stenographer.

LANDLADY: [off] Whatever it is you’re calling yourself nowadays, he’s not worth the effort. Not even for a mountain of gold.

SCENE NINE

FEDYA’s flat. It is dark. The faint sound of knocking.

FEDYA is working; MITYA and ALYOSHA are with him.

MITYA: He’s turned you against me.

ALYOSHA: No.

MITYA: You’re always hurrying away.

ALYOSHA: Listening to you reminds me what I am.

MITYA: What’s that?

ALYOSHA: The same as you.

MITYA: You and me? The same?

ALYOSHA: We share the same blood, the same history. Why not the same future?

Knocking.

MITYA: You know she has her eye on you. My woman.

Says all you need is the fury of a lover’s touch and you’d be cured.

ALYOSHA: Cured?

MITYA: Of your obscene dedication to the truth.

Keep your distance, brother. She’ll test you like she’s tested the rest of us.

ALYOSHA: Stay away from father.

MITYA: Let him take everything that’s mine—?

ALYOSHA: He is playing us one against the other—

MITYA: The hate that’s in my heart—

ALYOSHA: I’m scared what you’ll do.

A beat.

FEDYA: [to himself; barely heard] If we could discard God…

MITYA: [to FEDYA] You think I don’t hear you muttering? You think it doesn’t make perfect sense?

ALYOSHA: What? What does he say?

Knocking.

MITYA: [to FEDYA] Tell him.

A beat.

Always quiet as the grave…

[To ALYOSHA] All we need do is let go of this absurd hope that there’s something more—something beyond us—and we’d know it. [To FEDYA] Isn’t that right, brother?

ALYOSHA: Know what?

MITYA: Nothing is sinful.

Knocking.

ALYOSHA: What does he know/ of sin—?

MITYA: Anything—everything—is allowed.

Knocking.

FEDYA: To kill a thing as foul and sordid as our father…?

MITYA: Under such a system, it’d almost be an obligation.

Insistent knocking.