Dowd Siobhan - The London Eye Mystery 22 page

"You have to give information to the police," Porfiry replied, with a

most businesslike air, "that having learnt of this incident, that is of

the murder, you beg to inform the lawyer in charge of the case that such

and such things belong to you, and that you desire to redeem them...

or... but they will write to you."

"That's just the point, that at the present moment," Raskolnikov tried

his utmost to feign embarrassment, "I am not quite in funds... and

even this trifling sum is beyond me... I only wanted, you see, for

the present to declare that the things are mine, and that when I have

money...."

"That's no matter," answered Porfiry Petrovitch, receiving his

explanation of his pecuniary position coldly, "but you can, if you

prefer, write straight to me, to say, that having been informed of the

matter, and claiming such and such as your property, you beg..."

"On an ordinary sheet of paper?" Raskolnikov interrupted eagerly, again

interested in the financial side of the question.

"Oh, the most ordinary," and suddenly Porfiry Petrovitch looked with

obvious irony at him, screwing up his eyes and, as it were, winking at

him. But perhaps it was Raskolnikov's fancy, for it all lasted but a

moment. There was certainly something of the sort, Raskolnikov could

have sworn he winked at him, goodness knows why.

"He knows," flashed through his mind like lightning.

"Forgive my troubling you about such trifles," he went on, a little

disconcerted, "the things are only worth five roubles, but I prize them

particularly for the sake of those from whom they came to me, and I must

confess that I was alarmed when I heard..."

"That's why you were so much struck when I mentioned to Zossimov that

Porfiry was inquiring for everyone who had pledges!" Razumihin put in

with obvious intention.

This was really unbearable. Raskolnikov could not help glancing at him

with a flash of vindictive anger in his black eyes, but immediately

recollected himself.

"You seem to be jeering at me, brother?" he said to him, with a

well-feigned irritability. "I dare say I do seem to you absurdly anxious

about such trash; but you mustn't think me selfish or grasping for that,

and these two things may be anything but trash in my eyes. I told you

just now that the silver watch, though it's not worth a cent, is the

only thing left us of my father's. You may laugh at me, but my mother is

here," he turned suddenly to Porfiry, "and if she knew," he turned again

hurriedly to Razumihin, carefully making his voice tremble, "that the

watch was lost, she would be in despair! You know what women are!"

"Not a bit of it! I didn't mean that at all! Quite the contrary!"

shouted Razumihin distressed.

"Was it right? Was it natural? Did I overdo it?" Raskolnikov asked

himself in a tremor. "Why did I say that about women?"

"Oh, your mother is with you?" Porfiry Petrovitch inquired.

"Yes."

"When did she come?"

"Last night."

Porfiry paused as though reflecting.

"Your things would not in any case be lost," he went on calmly and

coldly. "I have been expecting you here for some time."

And as though that was a matter of no importance, he carefully offered

the ash-tray to Razumihin, who was ruthlessly scattering cigarette ash

over the carpet. Raskolnikov shuddered, but Porfiry did not seem to be

looking at him, and was still concerned with Razumihin's cigarette.

"What? Expecting him? Why, did you know that he had pledges _there_?"

cried Razumihin.

Porfiry Petrovitch addressed himself to Raskolnikov.

"Your things, the ring and the watch, were wrapped up together, and on

the paper your name was legibly written in pencil, together with the

date on which you left them with her..."

"How observant you are!" Raskolnikov smiled awkwardly, doing his very

utmost to look him straight in the face, but he failed, and suddenly

added:

"I say that because I suppose there were a great many pledges... that it

must be difficult to remember them all.... But you remember them all so

clearly, and... and..."

"Stupid! Feeble!" he thought. "Why did I add that?"

"But we know all who had pledges, and you are the only one who hasn't

come forward," Porfiry answered with hardly perceptible irony.

"I haven't been quite well."

"I heard that too. I heard, indeed, that you were in great distress

about something. You look pale still."

"I am not pale at all.... No, I am quite well," Raskolnikov snapped

out rudely and angrily, completely changing his tone. His anger was

mounting, he could not repress it. "And in my anger I shall betray

myself," flashed through his mind again. "Why are they torturing me?"

"Not quite well!" Razumihin caught him up. "What next! He was

unconscious and delirious all yesterday. Would you believe, Porfiry, as

soon as our backs were turned, he dressed, though he could hardly stand,

and gave us the slip and went off on a spree somewhere till midnight,

delirious all the time! Would you believe it! Extraordinary!"

"Really delirious? You don't say so!" Porfiry shook his head in a

womanish way.

"Nonsense! Don't you believe it! But you don't believe it anyway,"

Raskolnikov let slip in his anger. But Porfiry Petrovitch did not seem

to catch those strange words.

"But how could you have gone out if you hadn't been delirious?"

Razumihin got hot suddenly. "What did you go out for? What was the

object of it? And why on the sly? Were you in your senses when you did

it? Now that all danger is over I can speak plainly."

"I was awfully sick of them yesterday." Raskolnikov addressed Porfiry

suddenly with a smile of insolent defiance, "I ran away from them to

take lodgings where they wouldn't find me, and took a lot of money with

me. Mr. Zametov there saw it. I say, Mr. Zametov, was I sensible or

delirious yesterday; settle our dispute."

He could have strangled Zametov at that moment, so hateful were his

expression and his silence to him.

"In my opinion you talked sensibly and even artfully, but you were

extremely irritable," Zametov pronounced dryly.

"And Nikodim Fomitch was telling me to-day," put in Porfiry Petrovitch,

"that he met you very late last night in the lodging of a man who had

been run over."

"And there," said Razumihin, "weren't you mad then? You gave your last

penny to the widow for the funeral. If you wanted to help, give fifteen

or twenty even, but keep three roubles for yourself at least, but he

flung away all the twenty-five at once!"

"Maybe I found a treasure somewhere and you know nothing of it? So

that's why I was liberal yesterday.... Mr. Zametov knows I've found a

treasure! Excuse us, please, for disturbing you for half an hour

with such trivialities," he said, turning to Porfiry Petrovitch, with

trembling lips. "We are boring you, aren't we?"

"Oh no, quite the contrary, quite the contrary! If only you knew how you

interest me! It's interesting to look on and listen... and I am really

glad you have come forward at last."

"But you might give us some tea! My throat's dry," cried Razumihin.

"Capital idea! Perhaps we will all keep you company. Wouldn't you

like... something more essential before tea?"

"Get along with you!"

Porfiry Petrovitch went out to order tea.

Raskolnikov's thoughts were in a whirl. He was in terrible exasperation.

"The worst of it is they don't disguise it; they don't care to stand on

ceremony! And how if you didn't know me at all, did you come to talk

to Nikodim Fomitch about me? So they don't care to hide that they are

tracking me like a pack of dogs. They simply spit in my face." He was

shaking with rage. "Come, strike me openly, don't play with me like a

cat with a mouse. It's hardly civil, Porfiry Petrovitch, but perhaps I

won't allow it! I shall get up and throw the whole truth in your ugly

faces, and you'll see how I despise you." He could hardly breathe.

"And what if it's only my fancy? What if I am mistaken, and through

inexperience I get angry and don't keep up my nasty part? Perhaps it's

all unintentional. All their phrases are the usual ones, but there is

something about them.... It all might be said, but there is something.

Why did he say bluntly, 'With her'? Why did Zametov add that I spoke

artfully? Why do they speak in that tone? Yes, the tone.... Razumihin

is sitting here, why does he see nothing? That innocent blockhead never

does see anything! Feverish again! Did Porfiry wink at me just now? Of

course it's nonsense! What could he wink for? Are they trying to upset

my nerves or are they teasing me? Either it's ill fancy or they know!

Even Zametov is rude.... Is Zametov rude? Zametov has changed his mind.

I foresaw he would change his mind! He is at home here, while it's my

first visit. Porfiry does not consider him a visitor; sits with his back

to him. They're as thick as thieves, no doubt, over me! Not a doubt they

were talking about me before we came. Do they know about the flat? If

only they'd make haste! When I said that I ran away to take a flat he

let it pass.... I put that in cleverly about a flat, it may be of use

afterwards.... Delirious, indeed... ha-ha-ha! He knows all about last

night! He didn't know of my mother's arrival! The hag had written the

date on in pencil! You are wrong, you won't catch me! There are no

facts... it's all supposition! You produce facts! The flat even isn't a

fact but delirium. I know what to say to them.... Do they know about the

flat? I won't go without finding out. What did I come for? But my being

angry now, maybe is a fact! Fool, how irritable I am! Perhaps that's

right; to play the invalid.... He is feeling me. He will try to catch

me. Why did I come?"

All this flashed like lightning through his mind.

Porfiry Petrovitch returned quickly. He became suddenly more jovial.

"Your party yesterday, brother, has left my head rather.... And I am out

of sorts altogether," he began in quite a different tone, laughing to

Razumihin.

"Was it interesting? I left you yesterday at the most interesting point.

Who got the best of it?"

"Oh, no one, of course. They got on to everlasting questions, floated

off into space."

"Only fancy, Rodya, what we got on to yesterday. Whether there is such a

thing as crime. I told you that we talked our heads off."

"What is there strange? It's an everyday social question," Raskolnikov

answered casually.

"The question wasn't put quite like that," observed Porfiry.

"Not quite, that's true," Razumihin agreed at once, getting warm and

hurried as usual. "Listen, Rodion, and tell us your opinion, I want to

hear it. I was fighting tooth and nail with them and wanted you to

help me. I told them you were coming.... It began with the socialist

doctrine. You know their doctrine; crime is a protest against the

abnormality of the social organisation and nothing more, and nothing

more; no other causes admitted!..."

"You are wrong there," cried Porfiry Petrovitch; he was noticeably

animated and kept laughing as he looked at Razumihin, which made him

more excited than ever.

"Nothing is admitted," Razumihin interrupted with heat.

"I am not wrong. I'll show you their pamphlets. Everything with them

is 'the influence of environment,' and nothing else. Their favourite

phrase! From which it follows that, if society is normally organised,

all crime will cease at once, since there will be nothing to protest

against and all men will become righteous in one instant. Human nature

is not taken into account, it is excluded, it's not supposed to exist!

They don't recognise that humanity, developing by a historical living

process, will become at last a normal society, but they believe that a

social system that has come out of some mathematical brain is going

to organise all humanity at once and make it just and sinless in an

instant, quicker than any living process! That's why they instinctively

dislike history, 'nothing but ugliness and stupidity in it,' and they

explain it all as stupidity! That's why they so dislike the _living_

process of life; they don't want a _living soul_! The living soul

demands life, the soul won't obey the rules of mechanics, the soul is an

object of suspicion, the soul is retrograde! But what they want though

it smells of death and can be made of India-rubber, at least is not

alive, has no will, is servile and won't revolt! And it comes in the end

to their reducing everything to the building of walls and the planning

of rooms and passages in a phalanstery! The phalanstery is ready,

indeed, but your human nature is not ready for the phalanstery--it

wants life, it hasn't completed its vital process, it's too soon for the

graveyard! You can't skip over nature by logic. Logic presupposes three

possibilities, but there are millions! Cut away a million, and reduce

it all to the question of comfort! That's the easiest solution of the

problem! It's seductively clear and you musn't think about it. That's

the great thing, you mustn't think! The whole secret of life in two

pages of print!"

"Now he is off, beating the drum! Catch hold of him, do!" laughed

Porfiry. "Can you imagine," he turned to Raskolnikov, "six people

holding forth like that last night, in one room, with punch as a

preliminary! No, brother, you are wrong, environment accounts for a

great deal in crime; I can assure you of that."

"Oh, I know it does, but just tell me: a man of forty violates a child

of ten; was it environment drove him to it?"

"Well, strictly speaking, it did," Porfiry observed with noteworthy

gravity; "a crime of that nature may be very well ascribed to the

influence of environment."

Razumihin was almost in a frenzy. "Oh, if you like," he roared. "I'll

prove to you that your white eyelashes may very well be ascribed to the

Church of Ivan the Great's being two hundred and fifty feet high, and I

will prove it clearly, exactly, progressively, and even with a Liberal

tendency! I undertake to! Will you bet on it?"

"Done! Let's hear, please, how he will prove it!"

"He is always humbugging, confound him," cried Razumihin, jumping up and

gesticulating. "What's the use of talking to you? He does all that

on purpose; you don't know him, Rodion! He took their side yesterday,

simply to make fools of them. And the things he said yesterday! And they

were delighted! He can keep it up for a fortnight together. Last year he

persuaded us that he was going into a monastery: he stuck to it for two

months. Not long ago he took it into his head to declare he was going

to get married, that he had everything ready for the wedding. He ordered

new clothes indeed. We all began to congratulate him. There was no

bride, nothing, all pure fantasy!"

"Ah, you are wrong! I got the clothes before. It was the new clothes in

fact that made me think of taking you in."

"Are you such a good dissembler?" Raskolnikov asked carelessly.

"You wouldn't have supposed it, eh? Wait a bit, I shall take you in,

too. Ha-ha-ha! No, I'll tell you the truth. All these questions about

crime, environment, children, recall to my mind an article of yours

which interested me at the time. 'On Crime'... or something of the

sort, I forget the title, I read it with pleasure two months ago in the

_Periodical Review_."

"My article? In the _Periodical Review_?" Raskolnikov asked in

astonishment. "I certainly did write an article upon a book six months

ago when I left the university, but I sent it to the _Weekly Review_."

"But it came out in the _Periodical_."

"And the _Weekly Review_ ceased to exist, so that's why it wasn't

printed at the time."

"That's true; but when it ceased to exist, the _Weekly Review_ was

amalgamated with the _Periodical_, and so your article appeared two

months ago in the latter. Didn't you know?"

Raskolnikov had not known.

"Why, you might get some money out of them for the article! What a

strange person you are! You lead such a solitary life that you know

nothing of matters that concern you directly. It's a fact, I assure

you."

"Bravo, Rodya! I knew nothing about it either!" cried Razumihin. "I'll

run to-day to the reading-room and ask for the number. Two months ago?

What was the date? It doesn't matter though, I will find it. Think of

not telling us!"

"How did you find out that the article was mine? It's only signed with

an initial."

"I only learnt it by chance, the other day. Through the editor; I know

him.... I was very much interested."

"I analysed, if I remember, the psychology of a criminal before and

after the crime."

"Yes, and you maintained that the perpetration of a crime is always

accompanied by illness. Very, very original, but... it was not that part

of your article that interested me so much, but an idea at the end of

the article which I regret to say you merely suggested without working

it out clearly. There is, if you recollect, a suggestion that there are

certain persons who can... that is, not precisely are able to, but have

a perfect right to commit breaches of morality and crimes, and that the

law is not for them."

Raskolnikov smiled at the exaggerated and intentional distortion of his

idea.

"What? What do you mean? A right to crime? But not because of the

influence of environment?" Razumihin inquired with some alarm even.

"No, not exactly because of it," answered Porfiry. "In his article all

men are divided into 'ordinary' and 'extraordinary.' Ordinary men have

to live in submission, have no right to transgress the law, because,

don't you see, they are ordinary. But extraordinary men have a right to

commit any crime and to transgress the law in any way, just because they

are extraordinary. That was your idea, if I am not mistaken?"

"What do you mean? That can't be right?" Razumihin muttered in

bewilderment.

Raskolnikov smiled again. He saw the point at once, and knew where they

wanted to drive him. He decided to take up the challenge.

"That wasn't quite my contention," he began simply and modestly. "Yet

I admit that you have stated it almost correctly; perhaps, if you like,

perfectly so." (It almost gave him pleasure to admit this.) "The only

difference is that I don't contend that extraordinary people are always

bound to commit breaches of morals, as you call it. In fact, I doubt

whether such an argument could be published. I simply hinted that an

'extraordinary' man has the right... that is not an official right, but

an inner right to decide in his own conscience to overstep... certain

obstacles, and only in case it is essential for the practical fulfilment

of his idea (sometimes, perhaps, of benefit to the whole of humanity).

You say that my article isn't definite; I am ready to make it as clear

as I can. Perhaps I am right in thinking you want me to; very well. I

maintain that if the discoveries of Kepler and Newton could not have

been made known except by sacrificing the lives of one, a dozen, a

hundred, or more men, Newton would have had the right, would indeed have

been in duty bound... to _eliminate_ the dozen or the hundred men for

the sake of making his discoveries known to the whole of humanity. But

it does not follow from that that Newton had a right to murder people

right and left and to steal every day in the market. Then, I remember, I

maintain in my article that all... well, legislators and leaders of men,

such as Lycurgus, Solon, Mahomet, Napoleon, and so on, were all without

exception criminals, from the very fact that, making a new law, they

transgressed the ancient one, handed down from their ancestors and held

sacred by the people, and they did not stop short at bloodshed either,

if that bloodshed--often of innocent persons fighting bravely in defence

of ancient law--were of use to their cause. It's remarkable, in fact,

that the majority, indeed, of these benefactors and leaders of humanity

were guilty of terrible carnage. In short, I maintain that all great men

or even men a little out of the common, that is to say capable of giving

some new word, must from their very nature be criminals--more or less,

of course. Otherwise it's hard for them to get out of the common rut;

and to remain in the common rut is what they can't submit to, from their

very nature again, and to my mind they ought not, indeed, to submit to

it. You see that there is nothing particularly new in all that. The

same thing has been printed and read a thousand times before. As for my

division of people into ordinary and extraordinary, I acknowledge that

it's somewhat arbitrary, but I don't insist upon exact numbers. I only

believe in my leading idea that men are _in general_ divided by a law

of nature into two categories, inferior (ordinary), that is, so to say,

material that serves only to reproduce its kind, and men who have

the gift or the talent to utter _a new word_. There are, of course,

innumerable sub-divisions, but the distinguishing features of both

categories are fairly well marked. The first category, generally

speaking, are men conservative in temperament and law-abiding; they live

under control and love to be controlled. To my thinking it is their duty

to be controlled, because that's their vocation, and there is nothing

humiliating in it for them. The second category all transgress the

law; they are destroyers or disposed to destruction according to their

capacities. The crimes of these men are of course relative and varied;

for the most part they seek in very varied ways the destruction of the

present for the sake of the better. But if such a one is forced for the

sake of his idea to step over a corpse or wade through blood, he can, I

maintain, find within himself, in his conscience, a sanction for wading

through blood--that depends on the idea and its dimensions, note that.

It's only in that sense I speak of their right to crime in my article

(you remember it began with the legal question). There's no need for

such anxiety, however; the masses will scarcely ever admit this right,

they punish them or hang them (more or less), and in doing so fulfil

quite justly their conservative vocation. But the same masses set these

criminals on a pedestal in the next generation and worship them (more or

less). The first category is always the man of the present, the second

the man of the future. The first preserve the world and people it, the

second move the world and lead it to its goal. Each class has an equal

right to exist. In fact, all have equal rights with me--and _vive la

guerre eternelle_--till the New Jerusalem, of course!"

"Then you believe in the New Jerusalem, do you?"

"I do," Raskolnikov answered firmly; as he said these words and during

the whole preceding tirade he kept his eyes on one spot on the carpet.

"And... and do you believe in God? Excuse my curiosity."

"I do," repeated Raskolnikov, raising his eyes to Porfiry.

"And... do you believe in Lazarus' rising from the dead?"

"I... I do. Why do you ask all this?"

"You believe it literally?"

"Literally."

"You don't say so.... I asked from curiosity. Excuse me. But let us

go back to the question; they are not always executed. Some, on the

contrary..."

"Triumph in their lifetime? Oh, yes, some attain their ends in this

life, and then..."

"They begin executing other people?"

"If it's necessary; indeed, for the most part they do. Your remark is

very witty."

"Thank you. But tell me this: how do you distinguish those extraordinary

people from the ordinary ones? Are there signs at their birth? I feel

there ought to be more exactitude, more external definition. Excuse the

natural anxiety of a practical law-abiding citizen, but couldn't they

adopt a special uniform, for instance, couldn't they wear something, be

branded in some way? For you know if confusion arises and a member of

one category imagines that he belongs to the other, begins to 'eliminate

obstacles' as you so happily expressed it, then..."

"Oh, that very often happens! That remark is wittier than the other."

"Thank you."

"No reason to; but take note that the mistake can only arise in

the first category, that is among the ordinary people (as I perhaps

unfortunately called them). In spite of their predisposition to

obedience very many of them, through a playfulness of nature, sometimes

vouchsafed even to the cow, like to imagine themselves advanced people,

'destroyers,' and to push themselves into the 'new movement,' and

this quite sincerely. Meanwhile the really _new_ people are very often

unobserved by them, or even despised as reactionaries of grovelling

Date: 2014-12-29; view: 604