Dowd Siobhan - The London Eye Mystery 33 page

pocket; he was dead drunk, but he did not forget the children!"

"A cock? Did you say a cock?" shouted the commissariat clerk.

Katerina Ivanovna did not vouchsafe a reply. She sighed, lost in

thought.

"No doubt you think, like everyone, that I was too severe with him," she

went on, addressing Raskolnikov. "But that's not so! He respected me, he

respected me very much! He was a kind-hearted man! And how sorry I was

for him sometimes! He would sit in a corner and look at me, I used to

feel so sorry for him, I used to want to be kind to him and then would

think to myself: 'Be kind to him and he will drink again,' it was only

by severity that you could keep him within bounds."

"Yes, he used to get his hair pulled pretty often," roared the

commissariat clerk again, swallowing another glass of vodka.

"Some fools would be the better for a good drubbing, as well as having

their hair pulled. I am not talking of my late husband now!" Katerina

Ivanovna snapped at him.

The flush on her cheeks grew more and more marked, her chest heaved. In

another minute she would have been ready to make a scene. Many of the

visitors were sniggering, evidently delighted. They began poking the

commissariat clerk and whispering something to him. They were evidently

trying to egg him on.

"Allow me to ask what are you alluding to," began the clerk, "that is

to say, whose... about whom... did you say just now... But I don't care!

That's nonsense! Widow! I forgive you.... Pass!"

And he took another drink of vodka.

Raskolnikov sat in silence, listening with disgust. He only ate from

politeness, just tasting the food that Katerina Ivanovna was continually

putting on his plate, to avoid hurting her feelings. He watched Sonia

intently. But Sonia became more and more anxious and distressed; she,

too, foresaw that the dinner would not end peaceably, and saw with

terror Katerina Ivanovna's growing irritation. She knew that she, Sonia,

was the chief reason for the 'genteel' ladies' contemptuous treatment of

Katerina Ivanovna's invitation. She had heard from Amalia Ivanovna that

the mother was positively offended at the invitation and had asked the

question: "How could she let her daughter sit down beside _that young

person_?" Sonia had a feeling that Katerina Ivanovna had already heard

this and an insult to Sonia meant more to Katerina Ivanovna than an

insult to herself, her children, or her father, Sonia knew that

Katerina Ivanovna would not be satisfied now, "till she had shown those

draggletails that they were both..." To make matters worse someone

passed Sonia, from the other end of the table, a plate with two hearts

pierced with an arrow, cut out of black bread. Katerina Ivanovna flushed

crimson and at once said aloud across the table that the man who sent it

was "a drunken ass!"

Amalia Ivanovna was foreseeing something amiss, and at the same time

deeply wounded by Katerina Ivanovna's haughtiness, and to restore the

good-humour of the company and raise herself in their esteem she began,

apropos of nothing, telling a story about an acquaintance of hers "Karl

from the chemist's," who was driving one night in a cab, and that "the

cabman wanted him to kill, and Karl very much begged him not to kill,

and wept and clasped hands, and frightened and from fear pierced his

heart." Though Katerina Ivanovna smiled, she observed at once that

Amalia Ivanovna ought not to tell anecdotes in Russian; the latter was

still more offended, and she retorted that her "_Vater aus Berlin_ was a

very important man, and always went with his hands in pockets." Katerina

Ivanovna could not restrain herself and laughed so much that Amalia

Ivanovna lost patience and could scarcely control herself.

"Listen to the owl!" Katerina Ivanovna whispered at once, her

good-humour almost restored, "she meant to say he kept his hands in

his pockets, but she said he put his hands in people's pockets.

(Cough-cough.) And have you noticed, Rodion Romanovitch, that all these

Petersburg foreigners, the Germans especially, are all stupider than

we! Can you fancy anyone of us telling how 'Karl from the chemist's'

'pierced his heart from fear' and that the idiot, instead of punishing

the cabman, 'clasped his hands and wept, and much begged.' Ah, the fool!

And you know she fancies it's very touching and does not suspect how

stupid she is! To my thinking that drunken commissariat clerk is a great

deal cleverer, anyway one can see that he has addled his brains with

drink, but you know, these foreigners are always so well behaved

and serious.... Look how she sits glaring! She is angry, ha-ha!

(Cough-cough-cough.)"

Regaining her good-humour, Katerina Ivanovna began at once telling

Raskolnikov that when she had obtained her pension, she intended to open

a school for the daughters of gentlemen in her native town T----.

This was the first time she had spoken to him of the project, and she

launched out into the most alluring details. It suddenly appeared that

Katerina Ivanovna had in her hands the very certificate of honour of

which Marmeladov had spoken to Raskolnikov in the tavern, when he told

him that Katerina Ivanovna, his wife, had danced the shawl dance

before the governor and other great personages on leaving school. This

certificate of honour was obviously intended now to prove Katerina

Ivanovna's right to open a boarding-school; but she had armed herself

with it chiefly with the object of overwhelming "those two stuck-up

draggletails" if they came to the dinner, and proving incontestably

that Katerina Ivanovna was of the most noble, "she might even say

aristocratic family, a colonel's daughter and was far superior to

certain adventuresses who have been so much to the fore of late." The

certificate of honour immediately passed into the hands of the drunken

guests, and Katerina Ivanovna did not try to retain it, for it actually

contained the statement _en toutes lettres_, that her father was of the

rank of a major, and also a companion of an order, so that she really

was almost the daughter of a colonel.

Warming up, Katerina Ivanovna proceeded to enlarge on the peaceful and

happy life they would lead in T----, on the gymnasium teachers whom

she would engage to give lessons in her boarding-school, one a most

respectable old Frenchman, one Mangot, who had taught Katerina Ivanovna

herself in old days and was still living in T----, and would no doubt

teach in her school on moderate terms. Next she spoke of Sonia who would

go with her to T---- and help her in all her plans. At this someone at

the further end of the table gave a sudden guffaw.

Though Katerina Ivanovna tried to appear to be disdainfully unaware of

it, she raised her voice and began at once speaking with conviction of

Sonia's undoubted ability to assist her, of "her gentleness, patience,

devotion, generosity and good education," tapping Sonia on the cheek and

kissing her warmly twice. Sonia flushed crimson, and Katerina Ivanovna

suddenly burst into tears, immediately observing that she was "nervous

and silly, that she was too much upset, that it was time to finish, and

as the dinner was over, it was time to hand round the tea."

At that moment, Amalia Ivanovna, deeply aggrieved at taking no part in

the conversation, and not being listened to, made one last effort,

and with secret misgivings ventured on an exceedingly deep and weighty

observation, that "in the future boarding-school she would have to pay

particular attention to _die Waesche_, and that there certainly must be a

good _dame_ to look after the linen, and secondly that the young ladies

must not novels at night read."

Katerina Ivanovna, who certainly was upset and very tired, as well as

heartily sick of the dinner, at once cut short Amalia Ivanovna, saying

"she knew nothing about it and was talking nonsense, that it was the

business of the laundry maid, and not of the directress of a high-class

boarding-school to look after _die Waesche_, and as for novel-reading,

that was simply rudeness, and she begged her to be silent." Amalia

Ivanovna fired up and getting angry observed that she only "meant her

good," and that "she had meant her very good," and that "it was long

since she had paid her _gold_ for the lodgings."

Katerina Ivanovna at once "set her down," saying that it was a lie to

say she wished her good, because only yesterday when her dead husband

was lying on the table, she had worried her about the lodgings. To this

Amalia Ivanovna very appropriately observed that she had invited those

ladies, but "those ladies had not come, because those ladies _are_

ladies and cannot come to a lady who is not a lady." Katerina Ivanovna

at once pointed out to her, that as she was a slut she could not judge

what made one really a lady. Amalia Ivanovna at once declared that her

"_Vater aus Berlin_ was a very, very important man, and both hands in

pockets went, and always used to say: 'Poof! poof!'" and she leapt

up from the table to represent her father, sticking her hands in her

pockets, puffing her cheeks, and uttering vague sounds resembling "poof!

poof!" amid loud laughter from all the lodgers, who purposely encouraged

Amalia Ivanovna, hoping for a fight.

But this was too much for Katerina Ivanovna, and she at once declared,

so that all could hear, that Amalia Ivanovna probably never had a

father, but was simply a drunken Petersburg Finn, and had certainly once

been a cook and probably something worse. Amalia Ivanovna turned as red

as a lobster and squealed that perhaps Katerina Ivanovna never had a

father, "but she had a _Vater aus Berlin_ and that he wore a long coat

and always said poof-poof-poof!"

Katerina Ivanovna observed contemptuously that all knew what her family

was and that on that very certificate of honour it was stated in print

that her father was a colonel, while Amalia Ivanovna's father--if she

really had one--was probably some Finnish milkman, but that probably she

never had a father at all, since it was still uncertain whether her name

was Amalia Ivanovna or Amalia Ludwigovna.

At this Amalia Ivanovna, lashed to fury, struck the table with her fist,

and shrieked that she was Amalia Ivanovna, and not Ludwigovna, "that

her _Vater_ was named Johann and that he was a burgomeister, and that

Katerina Ivanovna's _Vater_ was quite never a burgomeister." Katerina

Ivanovna rose from her chair, and with a stern and apparently calm voice

(though she was pale and her chest was heaving) observed that "if she

dared for one moment to set her contemptible wretch of a father on a

level with her papa, she, Katerina Ivanovna, would tear her cap off her

head and trample it under foot." Amalia Ivanovna ran about the room,

shouting at the top of her voice, that she was mistress of the house and

that Katerina Ivanovna should leave the lodgings that minute; then she

rushed for some reason to collect the silver spoons from the table.

There was a great outcry and uproar, the children began crying. Sonia

ran to restrain Katerina Ivanovna, but when Amalia Ivanovna shouted

something about "the yellow ticket," Katerina Ivanovna pushed Sonia

away, and rushed at the landlady to carry out her threat.

At that minute the door opened, and Pyotr Petrovitch Luzhin appeared

on the threshold. He stood scanning the party with severe and vigilant

eyes. Katerina Ivanovna rushed to him.

CHAPTER III

"Pyotr Petrovitch," she cried, "protect me... you at least! Make this

foolish woman understand that she can't behave like this to a lady in

misfortune... that there is a law for such things.... I'll go to the

governor-general himself.... She shall answer for it.... Remembering my

father's hospitality protect these orphans."

"Allow me, madam.... Allow me." Pyotr Petrovitch waved her off. "Your

papa as you are well aware I had not the honour of knowing" (someone

laughed aloud) "and I do not intend to take part in your everlasting

squabbles with Amalia Ivanovna.... I have come here to speak of my own

affairs... and I want to have a word with your stepdaughter, Sofya...

Ivanovna, I think it is? Allow me to pass."

Pyotr Petrovitch, edging by her, went to the opposite corner where Sonia

was.

Katerina Ivanovna remained standing where she was, as though

thunderstruck. She could not understand how Pyotr Petrovitch could deny

having enjoyed her father's hospitality. Though she had invented it

herself, she believed in it firmly by this time. She was struck too

by the businesslike, dry and even contemptuous menacing tone of Pyotr

Petrovitch. All the clamour gradually died away at his entrance. Not

only was this "serious business man" strikingly incongruous with the

rest of the party, but it was evident, too, that he had come upon some

matter of consequence, that some exceptional cause must have brought him

and that therefore something was going to happen. Raskolnikov, standing

beside Sonia, moved aside to let him pass; Pyotr Petrovitch did not

seem to notice him. A minute later Lebeziatnikov, too, appeared in the

doorway; he did not come in, but stood still, listening with marked

interest, almost wonder, and seemed for a time perplexed.

"Excuse me for possibly interrupting you, but it's a matter of

some importance," Pyotr Petrovitch observed, addressing the company

generally. "I am glad indeed to find other persons present. Amalia

Ivanovna, I humbly beg you as mistress of the house to pay careful

attention to what I have to say to Sofya Ivanovna. Sofya Ivanovna,"

he went on, addressing Sonia, who was very much surprised and already

alarmed, "immediately after your visit I found that a hundred-rouble

note was missing from my table, in the room of my friend Mr.

Lebeziatnikov. If in any way whatever you know and will tell us where

it is now, I assure you on my word of honour and call all present to

witness that the matter shall end there. In the opposite case I shall be

compelled to have recourse to very serious measures and then... you must

blame yourself."

Complete silence reigned in the room. Even the crying children were

still. Sonia stood deadly pale, staring at Luzhin and unable to say a

word. She seemed not to understand. Some seconds passed.

"Well, how is it to be then?" asked Luzhin, looking intently at her.

"I don't know.... I know nothing about it," Sonia articulated faintly at

last.

"No, you know nothing?" Luzhin repeated and again he paused for some

seconds. "Think a moment, mademoiselle," he began severely, but still,

as it were, admonishing her. "Reflect, I am prepared to give you time

for consideration. Kindly observe this: if I were not so entirely

convinced I should not, you may be sure, with my experience venture to

accuse you so directly. Seeing that for such direct accusation before

witnesses, if false or even mistaken, I should myself in a certain sense

be made responsible, I am aware of that. This morning I changed for

my own purposes several five-per-cent securities for the sum of

approximately three thousand roubles. The account is noted down in my

pocket-book. On my return home I proceeded to count the money--as Mr.

Lebeziatnikov will bear witness--and after counting two thousand three

hundred roubles I put the rest in my pocket-book in my coat pocket.

About five hundred roubles remained on the table and among them three

notes of a hundred roubles each. At that moment you entered (at my

invitation)--and all the time you were present you were exceedingly

embarrassed; so that three times you jumped up in the middle of the

conversation and tried to make off. Mr. Lebeziatnikov can bear witness

to this. You yourself, mademoiselle, probably will not refuse to confirm

my statement that I invited you through Mr. Lebeziatnikov, solely in

order to discuss with you the hopeless and destitute position of your

relative, Katerina Ivanovna (whose dinner I was unable to attend),

and the advisability of getting up something of the nature of a

subscription, lottery or the like, for her benefit. You thanked me and

even shed tears. I describe all this as it took place, primarily to

recall it to your mind and secondly to show you that not the slightest

detail has escaped my recollection. Then I took a ten-rouble note from

the table and handed it to you by way of first instalment on my part

for the benefit of your relative. Mr. Lebeziatnikov saw all this. Then

I accompanied you to the door--you being still in the same state of

embarrassment--after which, being left alone with Mr. Lebeziatnikov I

talked to him for ten minutes--then Mr. Lebeziatnikov went out and I

returned to the table with the money lying on it, intending to count

it and to put it aside, as I proposed doing before. To my surprise one

hundred-rouble note had disappeared. Kindly consider the position.

Mr. Lebeziatnikov I cannot suspect. I am ashamed to allude to such

a supposition. I cannot have made a mistake in my reckoning, for the

minute before your entrance I had finished my accounts and found the

total correct. You will admit that recollecting your embarrassment, your

eagerness to get away and the fact that you kept your hands for some

time on the table, and taking into consideration your social position

and the habits associated with it, I was, so to say, with horror and

positively against my will, _compelled_ to entertain a suspicion--a

cruel, but justifiable suspicion! I will add further and repeat that in

spite of my positive conviction, I realise that I run a certain risk in

making this accusation, but as you see, I could not let it pass. I have

taken action and I will tell you why: solely, madam, solely, owing

to your black ingratitude! Why! I invite you for the benefit of your

destitute relative, I present you with my donation of ten roubles and

you, on the spot, repay me for all that with such an action. It is too

bad! You need a lesson. Reflect! Moreover, like a true friend I beg

you--and you could have no better friend at this moment--think what you

are doing, otherwise I shall be immovable! Well, what do you say?"

"I have taken nothing," Sonia whispered in terror, "you gave me ten

roubles, here it is, take it."

Sonia pulled her handkerchief out of her pocket, untied a corner of it,

took out the ten-rouble note and gave it to Luzhin.

"And the hundred roubles you do not confess to taking?" he insisted

reproachfully, not taking the note.

Sonia looked about her. All were looking at her with such awful, stern,

ironical, hostile eyes. She looked at Raskolnikov... he stood against

the wall, with his arms crossed, looking at her with glowing eyes.

"Good God!" broke from Sonia.

"Amalia Ivanovna, we shall have to send word to the police and therefore

I humbly beg you meanwhile to send for the house porter," Luzhin said

softly and even kindly.

"_Gott der Barmherzige_! I knew she was the thief," cried Amalia

Ivanovna, throwing up her hands.

"You knew it?" Luzhin caught her up, "then I suppose you had some reason

before this for thinking so. I beg you, worthy Amalia Ivanovna, to

remember your words which have been uttered before witnesses."

There was a buzz of loud conversation on all sides. All were in

movement.

"What!" cried Katerina Ivanovna, suddenly realising the position, and

she rushed at Luzhin. "What! You accuse her of stealing? Sonia? Ah, the

wretches, the wretches!"

And running to Sonia she flung her wasted arms round her and held her as

in a vise.

"Sonia! how dared you take ten roubles from him? Foolish girl! Give it

to me! Give me the ten roubles at once--here!"

And snatching the note from Sonia, Katerina Ivanovna crumpled it up and

flung it straight into Luzhin's face. It hit him in the eye and fell

on the ground. Amalia Ivanovna hastened to pick it up. Pyotr Petrovitch

lost his temper.

"Hold that mad woman!" he shouted.

At that moment several other persons, besides Lebeziatnikov, appeared in

the doorway, among them the two ladies.

"What! Mad? Am I mad? Idiot!" shrieked Katerina Ivanovna. "You are an

idiot yourself, pettifogging lawyer, base man! Sonia, Sonia take his

money! Sonia a thief! Why, she'd give away her last penny!" and Katerina

Ivanovna broke into hysterical laughter. "Did you ever see such an

idiot?" she turned from side to side. "And you too?" she suddenly saw

the landlady, "and you too, sausage eater, you declare that she is a

thief, you trashy Prussian hen's leg in a crinoline! She hasn't been

out of this room: she came straight from you, you wretch, and sat down

beside me, everyone saw her. She sat here, by Rodion Romanovitch. Search

her! Since she's not left the room, the money would have to be on her!

Search her, search her! But if you don't find it, then excuse me, my

dear fellow, you'll answer for it! I'll go to our Sovereign, to our

Sovereign, to our gracious Tsar himself, and throw myself at his feet,

to-day, this minute! I am alone in the world! They would let me in! Do

you think they wouldn't? You're wrong, I will get in! I will get in!

You reckoned on her meekness! You relied upon that! But I am not so

submissive, let me tell you! You've gone too far yourself. Search her,

search her!"

And Katerina Ivanovna in a frenzy shook Luzhin and dragged him towards

Sonia.

"I am ready, I'll be responsible... but calm yourself, madam, calm

yourself. I see that you are not so submissive!... Well, well, but as to

that..." Luzhin muttered, "that ought to be before the police... though

indeed there are witnesses enough as it is.... I am ready.... But in

any case it's difficult for a man... on account of her sex.... But with

the help of Amalia Ivanovna... though, of course, it's not the way to do

things.... How is it to be done?"

"As you will! Let anyone who likes search her!" cried Katerina Ivanovna.

"Sonia, turn out your pockets! See! Look, monster, the pocket is empty,

here was her handkerchief! Here is the other pocket, look! D'you see,

d'you see?"

And Katerina Ivanovna turned--or rather snatched--both pockets inside

out. But from the right pocket a piece of paper flew out and describing

a parabola in the air fell at Luzhin's feet. Everyone saw it, several

cried out. Pyotr Petrovitch stooped down, picked up the paper in two

fingers, lifted it where all could see it and opened it. It was a

hundred-rouble note folded in eight. Pyotr Petrovitch held up the note

showing it to everyone.

"Thief! Out of my lodging. Police, police!" yelled Amalia Ivanovna.

"They must to Siberia be sent! Away!"

Exclamations arose on all sides. Raskolnikov was silent, keeping his

eyes fixed on Sonia, except for an occasional rapid glance at Luzhin.

Sonia stood still, as though unconscious. She was hardly able to feel

surprise. Suddenly the colour rushed to her cheeks; she uttered a cry

and hid her face in her hands.

"No, it wasn't I! I didn't take it! I know nothing about it," she cried

with a heartrending wail, and she ran to Katerina Ivanovna, who clasped

her tightly in her arms, as though she would shelter her from all the

world.

"Sonia! Sonia! I don't believe it! You see, I don't believe it!" she

cried in the face of the obvious fact, swaying her to and fro in her

arms like a baby, kissing her face continually, then snatching at her

hands and kissing them, too, "you took it! How stupid these people are!

Oh dear! You are fools, fools," she cried, addressing the whole room,

"you don't know, you don't know what a heart she has, what a girl she

is! She take it, she? She'd sell her last rag, she'd go barefoot to help

you if you needed it, that's what she is! She has the yellow passport

because my children were starving, she sold herself for us! Ah, husband,

husband! Do you see? Do you see? What a memorial dinner for you!

Merciful heavens! Defend her, why are you all standing still? Rodion

Romanovitch, why don't you stand up for her? Do you believe it, too? You

are not worth her little finger, all of you together! Good God! Defend

her now, at least!"

The wail of the poor, consumptive, helpless woman seemed to produce a

great effect on her audience. The agonised, wasted, consumptive face,

the parched blood-stained lips, the hoarse voice, the tears unrestrained

as a child's, the trustful, childish and yet despairing prayer for help

were so piteous that everyone seemed to feel for her. Pyotr Petrovitch

at any rate was at once moved to _compassion_.

"Madam, madam, this incident does not reflect upon you!" he cried

impressively, "no one would take upon himself to accuse you of being an

instigator or even an accomplice in it, especially as you have proved

her guilt by turning out her pockets, showing that you had no previous

idea of it. I am most ready, most ready to show compassion, if poverty,

so to speak, drove Sofya Semyonovna to it, but why did you refuse to

confess, mademoiselle? Were you afraid of the disgrace? The first step?

You lost your head, perhaps? One can quite understand it.... But how

could you have lowered yourself to such an action? Gentlemen," he

addressed the whole company, "gentlemen! Compassionate and, so to say,

commiserating these people, I am ready to overlook it even now in spite

of the personal insult lavished upon me! And may this disgrace be a

lesson to you for the future," he said, addressing Sonia, "and I will

carry the matter no further. Enough!"

Pyotr Petrovitch stole a glance at Raskolnikov. Their eyes met, and the

fire in Raskolnikov's seemed ready to reduce him to ashes. Meanwhile

Katerina Ivanovna apparently heard nothing. She was kissing and hugging

Date: 2014-12-29; view: 671