第55章

第55章“evidence,indeed!evidencethatwasnoevidence,andthat’swhatwehavetoprove.itwasjustastheypitchedonthosefellows,kochandpestryakov,atfirst.foo!howstupidlyit’salldone,itmakesonesick,thoughit’snotone’sbusiness!pestryakovmaybecomingto-night.…bytheway,rodya,you’veheardaboutthebusinessalready;ithappenedbeforeyouwereill,thedaybeforeyoufaintedatthepoliceofficewhiletheyweretalkingaboutit.”

zossimovlookedcuriouslyatraskolnikov.hedidnotstir.

“butisay,razumihin,iwonderatyou.whatabusybodyyouare!”zossimovobserved.

“maybeiam,butwewillgethimoffanyway,”shoutedrazumihin,bringinghisfistdownonthetable.“what’sthemostoffensiveisnottheirlying—onecanalwaysforgivelying—lyingisadelightfulthing,foritleadstotruth—whatisoffensiveisthattheylieandworshiptheirownlying.…irespectporfiry,but…whatthrewthemoutatfirst?thedoorwaslocked,andwhentheycamebackwiththeporteritwasopen.soitfollowedthatkochandpestryakovwerethemurderers—thatwastheirlogic!”

“butdon’texciteyourself;theysimplydetainedthem,theycouldnothelpthat.…and,bytheway,i’vemetthatmankoch.heusedtobuyunredeemedpledgesfromtheoldwoman?eh?”

“yes,heisaswindler.hebuysupbaddebts,too.hemakesaprofessionofit.butenoughofhim!doyouknowwhatmakesmeangry?it’stheirsickeningrotten,petrifiedroutine.…andthiscasemightbethemeansofintroducinganewmethod.onecanshowfromthepsychologicaldataalonehowtogetonthetrackoftherealman.‘wehavefacts,’theysay.butfactsarenoteverything—atleasthalfthebusinessliesinhowyouinterpretthem!”

“canyouinterpretthem,then?”

“anyway,onecan’tholdone’stonguewhenonehasafeeling,atangiblefeeling,thatonemightbeahelpifonly.…eh!doyouknowthedetailsofthecase?”

“iamwaitingtohearaboutthepainter.”

“oh,yes!well,here’sthestory.earlyonthethirddayafterthemurder,whentheywerestilldandlingkochandpestryakov—thoughtheyaccountedforeverysteptheytookanditwasasplainasapikestaff—anunexpectedfactturnedup.apeasantcalleddushkin,whokeepsadram-shopfacingthehouse,broughttothepoliceofficeajeweller’scasecontainingsomegoldear-rings,andtoldalongrigamarole.‘thedaybeforeyesterday,justaftereighto’clock’—markthedayandthehour!—’ajourneymanhouse-painter,nikolay,whohadbeenintoseemealreadythatday,broughtmethisboxofgoldear-ringsandstones,andaskedmetogivehimtworoublesforthem.wheniaskedhimwherehegotthem,hesaidthathepickedthemupinthestreet.ididnotaskhimanythingmore.’iamtellingyoudushkin’sstory.‘igavehimanote’—aroublethatis—’forithoughtifhedidnotpawnitwithmehewouldwithanother.itwouldallcometothesamething—he’dspenditondrink,sothethinghadbetterbewithme.thefurtheryouhideitthequickeryouwillfindit,andifanythingturnsup,ifihearanyrumours,i’lltakeittothepolice.’ofcourse,that’salltaradiddle;helieslikeahorse,foriknowthisdushkin,heisapawnbrokerandareceiverofstolengoods,andhedidnotcheatnikolayoutofathirty-roubletrinketinordertogiveittothepolice.hewassimplyafraid.butnomatter,toreturntodushkin’sstory.‘i’veknownthispeasant,nikolaydementyev,fromachild;hecomesfromthesameprovinceanddistrictofzaraisk,wearebothryazanmen.andthoughnikolayisnotadrunkard,hedrinks,andiknewhehadajobinthathouse,paintingworkwithdmitri,whocomesfromthesamevillage,too.assoonashegottheroublehechangedit,hadacoupleofglasses,tookhischangeandwentout.butididnotseedmitriwithhimthen.andthenextdayiheardthatsomeonehadmurderedalyonaivanovnaandhersister,lizavetaivanovna,withanaxe.iknewthem,andifeltsuspiciousabouttheear-ringsatonce,foriknewthemurderedwomanlentmoneyonpledges.iwenttothehouse,andbegantomakecarefulinquirieswithoutsayingawordtoanyone.firstofalliasked,“isnikolayhere?”dmitritoldmethatnikolayhadgoneoffonthespree;hehadcomehomeatdaybreakdrunk,stayedinthehouseabouttenminutes,andwentoutagain.dmitrididn’tseehimagainandisfinishingthejobalone.andtheirjobisonthesamestaircaseasthemurder,onthesecondfloor.wheniheardallthatididnotsayawordtoanyone’—that’sdushkin’stale—’butifoundoutwhaticouldaboutthemurder,andwenthomefeelingassuspiciousasever.andateighto’clockthismorning’—thatwasthethirdday,youunderstand—’isawnikolaycomingin,notsober,thoughnottosayverydrunk—hecouldunderstandwhatwassaidtohim.hesatdownonthebenchanddidnotspeak.therewasonlyonestrangerinthebarandamaniknewasleeponabenchandourtwoboys.“haveyouseendmitri?”saidi.“no,ihaven’t,”saidhe.“andyou’venotbeenhereeither?”“notsincethedaybeforeyesterday,”saidhe.“andwheredidyousleeplastnight?”“inpeski,withthekolomenskymen.”“andwheredidyougetthoseear-rings?”iasked.“ifoundtheminthestreet,”andthewayhesaiditwasabitqueer;hedidnotlookatme.“didyouhearwhathappenedthatveryevening,atthatveryhour,onthatsamestaircase?”saidi.“no,”saidhe,“ihadnotheard,”andallthewhilehewaslistening,hiseyeswerestaringoutofhisheadandheturnedaswhiteaschalk.itoldhimallaboutitandhetookhishatandbegangettingup.iwantedtokeephim.“waitabit,nikolay,”saidi,“won’tyouhaveadrink?”andisignedtotheboytoholdthedoor,andicameoutfrombehindthebar;buthedartedoutanddownthestreettotheturningatarun.ihavenotseenhimsince.thenmydoubtswereatanend—itwashisdoing,asclearascouldbe.…’”

“ishouldthinkso,”saidzossimov.