Thirdly, Olga’s life of late had been one uninterrupted affair. This particular affair had been the kind that usually ends in a capital crime. An old, doting husband, betrayal, jealousy, blows, flight to the lover-Count a month or two after the wedding…
If the beautiful heroine of a novel like this happens to be murdered, don’t look for thieves and crooks, but go in pursuit of the heroes. Regarding this third point, the most likely hero-murderer was that same Urbenin.
XXIV
I held the preliminary inquiry in the ‘mosaic’ room, where once I loved to loll on the soft couches and flirt with the gipsy girls. First to be examined by me was Urbenin. He was brought to me from Olga’s room, where he still continued to sit on a stool in the corner without taking his eyes off the empty bed for one moment. For a minute he stood before me in silence, looked at me indifferently and then, probably guessing that I intended addressing him in the manner of an investigating magistrate, spoke as one who was weary, broken by grief and anguish.
‘Please question the other witnesses first, Sergey Petrovich, but me afterwards… I just can’t…’
Urbenin considered himself a witness – or thought that he was considered one.
‘No, I must question you here and now,’ I said. ‘Please be seated.’
Urbenin sat down opposite me and lowered his head. He was ill and exhausted, replied reluctantly and it took a great effort to extract a statement from him.
He testified that he was Pyotr Yegorych Urbenin, gentleman, aged fifty, member of the Orthodox faith; that he had owned a property in the neighbouring district of K— where he had worked during the elections and for two periods of three years, and had been an honorary JP. After going bankrupt, he mortgaged his estate and thought he should get a job. He had become the Count’s manager about six years previously. With a great love of agriculture, he wasn’t above working for a private person and thought that only fools were ashamed of hard work. The Count always paid him his salary on the dot and he had nothing to complain about. He had a son and daughter from his first marriage, etc. etc.
He had married Olga out of passionate love: after a long and painful struggle with his feelings, neither common sense nor the logic of a practical, mature mind prevailed. He had to bow to his feelings and get married. He knew that Olga wasn’t marrying him for love, but since he thought her highly virtuous, he decided to content himself with her faithfulness and friendship, which he hoped to earn. When he reached the point where disenchantment and the insult of grey hair begins, Urbenin asked permission not to talk of ‘the past, for which God will forgive her’ – or at least to postpone any talk of this until a later date.
‘I can’t… it’s very hard for me… you can see that for yourself.’
‘All right, let’s leave it for another time. Just tell me now: is it true that you beat your wife? They say that on one occasion, when you found she had a note from the Count, you struck her.’
‘That’s not true. I only grabbed her arm, but she burst into tears and that same evening she ran off to complain about it.’
‘Did you know of her relationship with the Count?’
‘I did ask if this conversation could be postponed. And what’s the point of it?’
‘Please just answer this one question, which is extremely important. Did you know of your wife’s relationship with the Count?’
‘Of course I did.’
‘Right. I’ll make a note of that, but we’ll leave everything else that concerns your wife’s adultery for another time. Now let’s turn to another question – can you please explain how you came to be in the forest?’
‘Well, sir, I’ve been living in town with my female cousin since I lost my job. I kept myself busy trying to find work and drank to drown my sorrows. I’ve been drinking particularly heavily this month. For example, I can’t remember a thing about last week, as I drank round the clock. The day before yesterday I got drunk too. In short, I’m finished! Finished for good!’
‘You wanted to tell me how you came to be in the forest yesterday.’
‘Yes, sir. Yesterday I woke up early, at about four o’clock. I had a hangover from the day before, aches and pains all over, as if I were feverish. As I lay on my bed and looked through the window at the sunrise I remembered all kinds of different things. I felt really low. Suddenly I had the urge to see her, to see her once more, possibly for the last time. And I was gripped by anger and despair. I took out of my pocket the hundred roubles the Count had sent me, looked at them and started trampling them underfoot. I stamped and stamped, after which I decided to go and throw his charity in his face.
‘I may be hungry and down at heel, but I cannot sell my honour and I consider every attempt to buy it a personal insult. Well, sir, I wanted to have a look at Olga and fling the money right in that seducer’s ugly mug. And I was so overcome by this longing that I nearly went out of my mind. I had no money for the journey here – I couldn’t bring myself to spend his hundred roubles on myself. So I set off on foot. Fortunately, on the way, I met a peasant I knew and he took me ten miles for ten copecks, otherwise I’d still be slogging it. The peasant set me down at Tenevo. From there I made my way on foot and so I arrived at about ten o’clock.’
‘Did anyone see you at the time?’
‘Yes, sir. Nikolay the watchman was sitting by the gate and he told me that the master wasn’t at home and had gone shooting. I was almost dying from exhaustion, but my desire to see my wife was stronger than any pain. I had to walk to the place where they were shooting without resting for a single moment. I didn’t take the road, but set off through the forest. I know every single tree and it would be as hard for me to get lost in the Count’s forest as it would be in my own room.’
‘But by going through the forest and not by the road you might have got separated from the shooting party.’
‘No, sir. I kept to the road the whole time and I was so close that I could hear not only the shooting but the conversation as well.’
‘So, you didn’t expect to meet your wife in the forest?’
Urbenin glanced at me in amazement and replied after a pause for thought:
‘If you don’t mind my saying so, that’s a strange question. You wouldn’t expect to meet a wolf, but meeting with a terrible disaster is all the more unlikely. God sends misfortunes without warning. Take this dreadful incident… There I was, walking through Olkhovsk woods, not expecting any trouble, since I had enough trouble as it was, when I suddenly heard a terrible shriek. It was so piercing that I thought someone had cut my ear with a knife… I ran towards the place where the shriek came from…’
Urbenin’s mouth twisted to one side, his chin quivered. Then he blinked and burst into sobs.
‘I ran towards the shriek and suddenly I saw Olga lying there. Her hair and forehead were covered in blood, her face looked terrible. I started shouting, calling her by name. She didn’t move. I kissed her and lifted her up.’
Urbenin choked and covered his face with his sleeve. A minute later he continued: