‘What do you want?’ I asked, in my heart of hearts consigning that unexpected visitor to hell.
‘I’m sorry, old chap. I wanted to knock on the door but your Polikarp must surely be sleeping like a log now. So I decided to tap on the window.’
‘Well, what do you want?’
Pavel Ivanovich came closer to the window and mumbled something incomprehensible. He was shaking and seemed to be drunk.
‘I’m listening!’ I said, losing patience.
‘I can see you’re getting angry, but… if you only knew everything that’s happened you wouldn’t lose your temper over such trifles as having your sleep disturbed and being visited at this unsociable hour. There’s no time for sleeping now! Oh, my God! I’ve lived thirty years in this world and today is the first time I’ve been so dreadfully unhappy! I’m so unhappy, Sergey Petrovich!’
‘Ah… but what on earth’s happened? And what’s it got to do with me? I can barely stand up… I don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.’
‘Sergey Petrovich,’ Screwy said in a tearful voice, in the darkness holding out to my face a hand that was wet with rain. ‘You’re an honest man! You’re my friend!’
And then I heard a man weeping: it was the doctor.
‘Go home, Pavel Ivanovich!’ I said after a short silence. ‘I can’t talk just now. My state of mind scares me – and yours as well. We won’t understand each other…’
‘My dear chap,’ the doctor pleaded. ‘Marry her!’
‘You’re out of your mind!’ I said, slamming the window.
After the parrot the doctor was next to suffer from my tantrums: I hadn’t invited him in and I’d shut the window in his face. These were two boorish outbursts for which I would have challenged even a woman to a duel.* But that meek, inoffensive Screwy had no idea about duels. He didn’t even know the meaning of ‘angry’.
Two minutes later there was a flash of lightning and as I looked through the window I could see the bent figure of my visitor. This time he was in a pleading posture, as expectant as a beggar seeking charity. No doubt he was waiting for me to forgive him and let him have his say.
Fortunately my conscience pricked me. I felt sorry for myself, sorry that Nature had implanted so much cruelty and vileness in me. My base soul was as hard as stone – just like my healthy body…* I went to the window and opened it.
‘Come in!’ I said.
‘There’s no time! Every moment is precious! Poor Nadya has poisoned herself, she has a doctor constantly at her bedside. We just managed to save the poor girl… Isn’t that a calamity? And all you can do is ignore me and slam the window!’
‘All the same… is she still alive?’
‘ “All the same”! That’s no way to talk about unfortunate wretches, my good friend! Who would have thought that this clever, honest creature would want to depart this life because of a fellow like the Count? No, my friend, unfortunately for men, women cannot be perfect! However clever a woman may be, whatever imperfections she may be endowed with, there’s still some immovable force within her that prevents both herself and others from living. Take Nadezhda for example… Why did she do it? Vanity, simply vanity! Morbid vanity! Just to wound you she thought she would marry the Count. She needed neither his money nor his position. She merely wanted to satisfy her monstrous vanity. And suddenly she met with failure! You know that his wife has arrived. That old roué turns out to be married! And they say women have more staying-power, that they can take things better than men! But where’s her staying-power if she resorts to sulphur matches for such a pathetic reason? That’s not staying-power – it’s sheer vanity!’
‘You’ll catch cold!’
‘What I’ve just witnessed is worse than any cold… Those eyes, that pallor… ah! Unsuccessful suicide has now been added to unsuccessful love, to an unsuccessful attempt to spite you. It’s difficult to imagine a greater misfortune! My dear chap, if you have one ounce of pity if… if you could see her… well, why shouldn’t you go to her? You did love her! But even if you don’t love her any more why not sacrifice some of your time for her? Human life is precious – one could give everything for it! Save her life!’
There was a violent bang on my door. I shuddered. My heart was bleeding… I don’t believe in presentiments, but on this occasion I was not alarmed for nothing. Someone out in the street was knocking on my door.
‘Who’s there?’ I shouted out of the window.
‘I’ve come to see yer ’onner!’
‘What do you want?’
‘I’ve a letter from the Count, yer ’onner. Someone’s bin murdered!’
A dark figure wrapped in a sheepskin coat came up to the window, cursing the weather as he handed me a letter. I quickly stepped away from the window, lit the candle and read the following:
‘For God’s sake drop everything and come at once! Olga’s been murdered. I’m in a dead panic and now I go out of my mind.
Yours A. K.’
Olga murdered! That brief phrase made my head spin and I saw black. I sat on the bed and let my hands drop to my sides – I just didn’t have the strength to think about it.
‘Is that you, Pavel Ivanych?’ I heard the messenger’s voice. ‘I was just on my way to you. I’ve a letter for you too.’
XXI
Five minutes later Screwy and I were driving in a covered carriage to the Count’s estate. The rain beat on the carriage roof, ahead there were constant, blinding flashes of lightning. We could hear the roar of the lake…
The last act of the drama was beginning and two of its characters were driving off to witness a heart-rending spectacle.
‘Well, what do you think is in store for us?’ I asked Pavel Ivanych on the way.
‘I just can’t imagine… I simply don’t know…’
‘I don’t know either…’
‘As Hamlet once regretted that the Lord of heaven and earth had forbidden the sin of suicide,51 so I regret now that fate made me a doctor. I deeply regret it!’
‘And I fear that my turn might come to regret that I’m an investigating magistrate,’ I said. ‘If the Count hasn’t confused murder with suicide and Olga has actually been murdered, then my poor nerves really will suffer!’
‘You could refuse the case…’
I looked questioningly at Pavel Ivanych, but I could of course detect nothing, because it was so dark. How did he know that I could refuse the case? I was Olga’s lover, but who knew about it except Olga herself – yes, and perhaps Pshekhotsky, who had once accorded me his applause?
‘Why do you think I can refuse?’ I asked Screwy.
‘Well, you might become ill, or retire… None of that would be dishonourable – not by a long chalk – because there’s someone to take your place. But a doctor’s position is quite different.’
‘Is that all?’ I wondered.
After a long, killing journey over clayey soil the carriage finally came to a halt at the entrance. Directly above it there were brightly lit windows and through the last one on the right, in Olga’s bedroom, a light faintly glimmered; but all the others were like dark patches. On the stairs we were met by Owlet. She peered at me with her tiny, piercing eyes and her wrinkled face creased into an evil, mocking smile.
‘There’s a nice little surprise in store for you!’ her eyes said. She was probably thinking that we had come on a drinking spree and didn’t know that the house had been struck by disaster.