CHAPTER IV
Zossimov was a tall, fat man with a puffy, colourless, clean-shaven faceand straight flaxen hair. He wore spectacles, and a big gold ring onhis fat finger. He was twenty-seven. He had on a light grey fashionableloose coat, light summer trousers, and everything about him loose,fashionable and spick and span; his linen was irreproachable, hiswatch-chain was massive. In manner he was slow and, as it were,nonchalant, and at the same time studiously free and easy; he madeefforts to conceal his self-importance, but it was apparent at everyinstant. All his acquaintances found him tedious, but said he was cleverat his work.
"I've been to you twice to-day, brother. You see, he's come to himself,"cried Razumihin.
"I see, I see; and how do we feel now, eh?" said Zossimov toRaskolnikov, watching him carefully and, sitting down at the foot of thesofa, he settled himself as comfortably as he could.
"He is still depressed," Razumihin went on. "We've just changed hislinen and he almost cried."
"That's very natural; you might have put it off if he did not wishit.... His pulse is first-rate. Is your head still aching, eh?"
"I am well, I am perfectly well!" Raskolnikov declared positivelyand irritably. He raised himself on the sofa and looked at them withglittering eyes, but sank back on to the pillow at once and turned tothe wall. Zossimov watched him intently.
"Very good.... Going on all right," he said lazily. "Has he eatenanything?"
They told him, and asked what he might have.
"He may have anything... soup, tea... mushrooms and cucumbers, ofcourse, you must not give him; he'd better not have meat either, and...but no need to tell you that!" Razumihin and he looked at eachother. "No more medicine or anything. I'll look at him again to-morrow.Perhaps, to-day even... but never mind..."
"To-morrow evening I shall take him for a walk," said Razumihin. "We aregoing to the Yusupov garden and then to the Palais de Crystal."
"I would not disturb him to-morrow at all, but I don't know... a little,maybe... but we'll see."
"Ach, what a nuisance! I've got a house-warming party to-night; it'sonly a step from here. Couldn't he come? He could lie on the sofa. Youare coming?" Razumihin said to Zossimov. "Don't forget, you promised."
"All right, only rather later. What are you going to do?"
"Oh, nothing--tea, vodka, herrings. There will be a pie... just ourfriends."
"And who?"
"All neighbours here, almost all new friends, except my old uncle, andhe is new too--he only arrived in Petersburg yesterday to see to somebusiness of his. We meet once in five years."
"What is he?"
"He's been stagnating all his life as a district postmaster; gets alittle pension. He is sixty-five--not worth talking about.... But Iam fond of him. Porfiry Petrovitch, the head of the InvestigationDepartment here... But you know him."
"Is he a relation of yours, too?"
"A very distant one. But why are you scowling? Because you quarrelledonce, won't you come then?"
"I don't care a damn for him."
"So much the better. Well, there will be some students, a teacher, agovernment clerk, a musician, an officer and Zametov."
"Do tell me, please, what you or he"--Zossimov nodded atRaskolnikov--"can have in common with this Zametov?"
"Oh, you particular gentleman! Principles! You are worked by principles,as it were by springs; you won't venture to turn round on your ownaccount. If a man is a nice fellow, that's the only principle I go upon.Zametov is a delightful person."
"Though he does take bribes."
"Well, he does! and what of it? I don't care if he does take bribes,"Razumihin cried with unnatural irritability. "I don't praise him fortaking bribes. I only say he is a nice man in his own way! But if onelooks at men in all ways--are there many good ones left? Why, I am sureI shouldn't be worth a baked onion myself... perhaps with you thrownin."
"That's too little; I'd give two for you."
"And I wouldn't give more than one for you. No more of your jokes!Zametov is no more than a boy. I can pull his hair and one must draw himnot repel him. You'll never improve a man by repelling him, especiallya boy. One has to be twice as careful with a boy. Oh, you progressivedullards! You don't understand. You harm yourselves running another mandown.... But if you want to know, we really have something in common."
"I should like to know what."
"Why, it's all about a house-painter.... We are getting him out ofa mess! Though indeed there's nothing to fear now. The matter isabsolutely self-evident. We only put on steam."
"A painter?"
"Why, haven't I told you about it? I only told you the beginning thenabout the murder of the old pawnbroker-woman. Well, the painter is mixedup in it..."
"Oh, I heard about that murder before and was rather interested in it...partly... for one reason.... I read about it in the papers, too...."
"Lizaveta was murdered, too," Nastasya blurted out, suddenly addressingRaskolnikov. She remained in the room all the time, standing by the doorlistening.
"Lizaveta," murmured Raskolnikov hardly audibly.
"Lizaveta, who sold old clothes. Didn't you know her? She used to comehere. She mended a shirt for you, too."
Raskolnikov turned to the wall where in the dirty, yellow paper hepicked out one clumsy, white flower with brown lines on it and beganexamining how many petals there were in it, how many scallops in thepetals and how many lines on them. He felt his arms and legs as lifelessas though they had been cut off. He did not attempt to move, but staredobstinately at the flower.
"But what about the painter?" Zossimov interrupted Nastasya's chatterwith marked displeasure. She sighed and was silent.
"Why, he was accused of the murder," Razumihin went on hotly.
"Was there evidence against him then?"
"Evidence, indeed! Evidence that was no evidence, and that's what wehave to prove. It was just as they pitched on those fellows, Koch andPestryakov, at first. Foo! how stupidly it's all done, it makes onesick, though it's not one's business! Pestryakov may be comingto-night.... By the way, Rodya, you've heard about the business already;it happened before you were ill, the day before you fainted at thepolice office while they were talking about it."
Zossimov looked curiously at Raskolnikov. He did not stir.
"But I say, Razumihin, I wonder at you. What a busybody you are!"Zossimov observed.
"Maybe I am, but we will get him off anyway," shouted Razumihin,bringing his fist down on the table. "What's the most offensive is nottheir lying--one can always forgive lying--lying is a delightful thing,for it leads to truth--what is offensive is that they lie and worshiptheir own lying.... I respect Porfiry, but... What threw them out atfirst? The door was locked, and when they came back with the porterit was open. So it followed that Koch and Pestryakov were themurderers--that was their logic!"
"But don't excite yourself; they simply detained them, they could nothelp that.... And, by the way, I've met that man Koch. He used to buyunredeemed pledges from the old woman? Eh?"
"Yes, he is a swindler. He buys up bad debts, too. He makes a professionof it. But enough of him! Do you know what makes me angry? It's theirsickening rotten, petrified routine.... And this case might be the meansof introducing a new method. One can show from the psychological dataalone how to get on the track of the real man. 'We have facts,' theysay. But facts are not everything--at least half the business lies inhow you interpret them!"
"Can you interpret them, then?"
"Anyway, one can't hold one's tongue when one has a feeling, a tangiblefeeling, that one might be a help if only.... Eh! Do you know thedetails of the case?"
"I am waiting to hear about the painter."
"Oh, yes! Well, here's the story. Early on the third day after themurder, when they were still dandling Koch and Pestryakov--though theyaccounted for every step they took and it was as plain as a pikestaff--anunexpected fact turned up. A peasant called Dushkin, who keeps adram-shop facing the house, brought to the police office a jewe
ller'scase containing some gold ear-rings, and told a long rigamarole. 'Theday before yesterday, just after eight o'clock'--mark the day and thehour!--'a journeyman house-painter, Nikolay, who had been in to see mealready that day, brought me this box of gold ear-rings and stones, andasked me to give him two roubles for them. When I asked him where he gotthem, he said that he picked them up in the street. I did not ask himanything more.' I am telling you Dushkin's story. 'I gave him a note'--arouble that is--'for I thought if he did not pawn it with me he wouldwith another. It would all come to the same thing--he'd spend it ondrink, so the thing had better be with me. The further you hide itthe quicker you will find it, and if anything turns up, if I hear anyrumours, I'll take it to the police.' Of course, that's all taradiddle;he lies like a horse, for I know this Dushkin, he is a pawnbroker anda receiver of stolen goods, and he did not cheat Nikolay out of athirty-rouble trinket in order to give it to the police. He was simplyafraid. But no matter, to return to Dushkin's story. 'I've knownthis peasant, Nikolay Dementyev, from a child; he comes from the sameprovince and district of Zaraisk, we are both Ryazan men. And thoughNikolay is not a drunkard, he drinks, and I knew he had a job in thathouse, painting work with Dmitri, who comes from the same village, too.As soon as he got the rouble he changed it, had a couple of glasses,took his change and went out. But I did not see Dmitri with him then.And the next day I heard that someone had murdered Alyona Ivanovna andher sister, Lizaveta Ivanovna, with an axe. I knew them, and I feltsuspicious about the ear-rings at once, for I knew the murdered womanlent money on pledges. I went to the house, and began to make carefulinquiries without saying a word to anyone. First of all I asked, "IsNikolay here?" Dmitri told me that Nikolay had gone off on the spree; hehad come home at daybreak drunk, stayed in the house about ten minutes,and went out again. Dmitri didn't see him again and is finishing thejob alone. And their job is on the same staircase as the murder, onthe second floor. When I heard all that I did not say a word toanyone'--that's Dushkin's tale--'but I found out what I could aboutthe murder, and went home feeling as suspicious as ever. And at eighto'clock this morning'--that was the third day, you understand--'I sawNikolay coming in, not sober, though not to say very drunk--he couldunderstand what was said to him. He sat down on the bench and did notspeak. There was only one stranger in the bar and a man I knew asleepon a bench and our two boys. "Have you seen Dmitri?" said I. "No, Ihaven't," said he. "And you've not been here either?" "Not since the daybefore yesterday," said he. "And where did you sleep last night?""In Peski, with the Kolomensky men." "And where did you get thoseear-rings?" I asked. "I found them in the street," and the way he saidit was a bit queer; he did not look at me. "Did you hear what happenedthat very evening, at that very hour, on that same staircase?" said I."No," said he, "I had not heard," and all the while he was listening,his eyes were staring out of his head and he turned as white as chalk. Itold him all about it and he took his hat and began getting up. I wantedto keep him. "Wait a bit, Nikolay," said I, "won't you have a drink?"And I signed to the boy to hold the door, and I came out from behind thebar; but he darted out and down the street to the turning at a run.I have not seen him since. Then my doubts were at an end--it was hisdoing, as clear as could be....'"
"I should think so," said Zossimov.
"Wait! Hear the end. Of course they sought high and low for Nikolay;they detained Dushkin and searched his house; Dmitri, too, was arrested;the Kolomensky men also were turned inside out. And the day beforeyesterday they arrested Nikolay in a tavern at the end of the town. Hehad gone there, taken the silver cross off his neck and asked for a dramfor it. They gave it to him. A few minutes afterwards the woman wentto the cowshed, and through a crack in the wall she saw in the stableadjoining he had made a noose of his sash from the beam, stood on ablock of wood, and was trying to put his neck in the noose. The womanscreeched her hardest; people ran in. 'So that's what you are up to!''Take me,' he says, 'to such-and-such a police officer; I'll confesseverything.' Well, they took him to that police station--that ishere--with a suitable escort. So they asked him this and that, how oldhe is, 'twenty-two,' and so on. At the question, 'When you were workingwith Dmitri, didn't you see anyone on the staircase at such-and-such atime?'--answer: 'To be sure folks may have gone up and down, but I didnot notice them.' 'And didn't you hear anything, any noise, and so on?''We heard nothing special.' 'And did you hear, Nikolay, that on the sameday Widow So-and-so and her sister were murdered and robbed?' 'Inever knew a thing about it. The first I heard of it was from AfanasyPavlovitch the day before yesterday.' 'And where did you find theear-rings?' 'I found them on the pavement.' 'Why didn't you go to workwith Dmitri the other day?' 'Because I was drinking.' 'And where wereyou drinking?' 'Oh, in such-and-such a place.' 'Why did you run awayfrom Dushkin's?' 'Because I was awfully frightened.' 'What wereyou frightened of?' 'That I should be accused.' 'How could you befrightened, if you felt free from guilt?' Now, Zossimov, you may notbelieve me, that question was put literally in those words. I know itfor a fact, it was repeated to me exactly! What do you say to that?"
"Well, anyway, there's the evidence."
"I am not talking of the evidence now, I am talking about that question,of their own idea of themselves. Well, so they squeezed and squeezedhim and he confessed: 'I did not find it in the street, but in the flatwhere I was painting with Dmitri.' 'And how was that?' 'Why, Dmitri andI were painting there all day, and we were just getting ready to go, andDmitri took a brush and painted my face, and he ran off and I after him.I ran after him, shouting my hardest, and at the bottom of the stairs Iran right against the porter and some gentlemen--and how many gentlemenwere there I don't remember. And the porter swore at me, and the otherporter swore, too, and the porter's wife came out, and swore at us, too;and a gentleman came into the entry with a lady, and he swore at us,too, for Dmitri and I lay right across the way. I got hold of Dmitri'shair and knocked him down and began beating him. And Dmitri, too, caughtme by the hair and began beating me. But we did it all not for temperbut in a friendly way, for sport. And then Dmitri escaped and ran intothe street, and I ran after him; but I did not catch him, and went backto the flat alone; I had to clear up my things. I began putting themtogether, expecting Dmitri to come, and there in the passage, in thecorner by the door, I stepped on the box. I saw it lying there wrappedup in paper. I took off the paper, saw some little hooks, undid them,and in the box were the ear-rings....'"
"Behind the door? Lying behind the door? Behind the door?" Raskolnikovcried suddenly, staring with a blank look of terror at Razumihin, and heslowly sat up on the sofa, leaning on his hand.
"Yes... why? What's the matter? What's wrong?" Razumihin, too, got upfrom his seat.
"Nothing," Raskolnikov answered faintly, turning to the wall. All weresilent for a while.
"He must have waked from a dream," Razumihin said at last, lookinginquiringly at Zossimov. The latter slightly shook his head.
"Well, go on," said Zossimov. "What next?"
"What next? As soon as he saw the ear-rings, forgetting Dmitri andeverything, he took up his cap and ran to Dushkin and, as we know, gota rouble from him. He told a lie saying he found them in the street, andwent off drinking. He keeps repeating his old story about the murder:'I know nothing of it, never heard of it till the day before yesterday.''And why didn't you come to the police till now?' 'I was frightened.''And why did you try to hang yourself?' 'From anxiety.' 'What anxiety?''That I should be accused of it.' Well, that's the whole story. And nowwhat do you suppose they deduced from that?"
"Why, there's no supposing. There's a clue, such as it is, a fact. Youwouldn't have your painter set free?"
"Now they've simply taken him for the murderer. They haven't a shadow ofdoubt."
"That's nonsense. You are excited. But what about the ear-rings? Youmust admit that, if on the very same day and hour ear-rings from the oldwoman's box have come into Nikolay's hands, they must have come theresomehow. That's a good deal in such a case."
"How did they get there? How d
id they get there?" cried Razumihin."How can you, a doctor, whose duty it is to study man and who has moreopportunity than anyone else for studying human nature--how can you failto see the character of the man in the whole story? Don't you see atonce that the answers he has given in the examination are the holytruth? They came into his hand precisely as he has told us--he steppedon the box and picked it up."
"The holy truth! But didn't he own himself that he told a lie at first?"
"Listen to me, listen attentively. The porter and Koch and Pestryakovand the other porter and the wife of the first porter and the woman whowas sitting in the porter's lodge and the man Kryukov, who had just gotout of a cab at that minute and went in at the entry with a lady on hisarm, that is eight or ten witnesses, agree that Nikolay had Dmitri onthe ground, was lying on him beating him, while Dmitri hung on to hishair, beating him, too. They lay right across the way, blocking thethoroughfare. They were sworn at on all sides while they 'like children'(the very words of the witnesses) were falling over one another,squealing, fighting and laughing with the funniest faces, and, chasingone another like children, they ran into the street. Now take carefulnote. The bodies upstairs were warm, you understand, warm when theyfound them! If they, or Nikolay alone, had murdered them and broken openthe boxes, or simply taken part in the robbery, allow me to ask you onequestion: do their state of mind, their squeals and giggles and childishscuffling at the gate fit in with axes, bloodshed, fiendish cunning,robbery? They'd just killed them, not five or ten minutes before, forthe bodies were still warm, and at once, leaving the flat open, knowingthat people would go there at once, flinging away their booty, theyrolled about like children, laughing and attracting general attention.And there are a dozen witnesses to swear to that!"
"Of course it is strange! It's impossible, indeed, but..."
"No, brother, no _buts_. And if the ear-rings being found in Nikolay'shands at the very day and hour of the murder constitutes an importantpiece of circumstantial evidence against him--although the explanationgiven by him accounts for it, and therefore it does not tell seriouslyagainst him--one must take into consideration the facts which prove himinnocent, especially as they are facts that _cannot be denied_. Anddo you suppose, from the character of our legal system, that they willaccept, or that they are in a position to accept, this fact--restingsimply on a psychological impossibility--as irrefutable and conclusivelybreaking down the circumstantial evidence for the prosecution? No, theywon't accept it, they certainly won't, because they found the jewel-caseand the man tried to hang himself, 'which he could not have done if hehadn't felt guilty.' That's the point, that's what excites me, you mustunderstand!"
"Oh, I see you are excited! Wait a bit. I forgot to ask you; what proofis there that the box came from the old woman?"
"That's been proved," said Razumihin with apparent reluctance, frowning."Koch recognised the jewel-case and gave the name of the owner, whoproved conclusively that it was his."
"That's bad. Now another point. Did anyone see Nikolay at the timethat Koch and Pestryakov were going upstairs at first, and is there noevidence about that?"
"Nobody did see him," Razumihin answered with vexation. "That's theworst of it. Even Koch and Pestryakov did not notice them on their wayupstairs, though, indeed, their evidence could not have been worth much.They said they saw the flat was open, and that there must be work goingon in it, but they took no special notice and could not remember whetherthere actually were men at work in it."
"Hm!... So the only evidence for the defence is that they were beatingone another and laughing. That constitutes a strong presumption, but...How do you explain the facts yourself?"
"How do I explain them? What is there to explain? It's clear. At anyrate, the direction in which explanation is to be sought is clear, andthe jewel-case points to it. The real murderer dropped those ear-rings.The murderer was upstairs, locked in, when Koch and Pestryakov knockedat the door. Koch, like an ass, did not stay at the door; so themurderer popped out and ran down, too; for he had no other way ofescape. He hid from Koch, Pestryakov and the porter in the flat whenNikolay and Dmitri had just run out of it. He stopped there while theporter and others were going upstairs, waited till they were out ofhearing, and then went calmly downstairs at the very minute when Dmitriand Nikolay ran out into the street and there was no one in the entry;possibly he was seen, but not noticed. There are lots of people goingin and out. He must have dropped the ear-rings out of his pocket whenhe stood behind the door, and did not notice he dropped them, because hehad other things to think of. The jewel-case is a conclusive proof thathe did stand there.... That's how I explain it."
"Too clever! No, my boy, you're too clever. That beats everything."
"But, why, why?"
"Why, because everything fits too well... it's too melodramatic."
"A-ach!" Razumihin was exclaiming, but at that moment the door openedand a personage came in who was a stranger to all present.