crime. Suicide is not something that concerns justice. It's not our concern.'
'Yes,' said Bertlef, 'suicide is not a crime for you because life has no value for you. But I, Inspector, do not know of a greater sin. Suicide is worse than murder. One can murder for vengeance or out of greed, but even greed is the expression of a perverted love of life. But to commit suicide is to throw one's life down contemptuously at God's feet. To commit suicide is to spit in the Creator's face. I tell you that I will do everything I can to prove that this young woman is innocent. Since you maintain that she did away with herself, please explain why. What motive have you found?'
'Motives for suicide are always mysterious,' said the inspector. 'Besides, looking for them isn't within my purview. Don't hold it against me for confining myself to my duties. I've got enough of those and hardly any time. The case is obviously not yet closed, but I can tell you in advance that I'm not thinking of the homicide theory.'
'I admire your quickness,' said Bertlef acidly, 'your quickness to cross out a human being's life.'
Olga saw the inspector's cheeks redden. But he controlled himself, and after a brief pause said in a voice that was almost too amiable: 'All right, I accept your theory that a murder has been committed. Let's ask
ourselves how it could have been perpetrated. We found a tube of tranquilizers in the victim's handbag. One could assume that the nurse wanted to take a tablet to calm herself but that someone had previously slipped another tablet into the medicine tube, one that looked like the others but contained poison.'
'You think that Ruzena got the poison from the tube of tranquilizers?' asked Dr. Skreta.
'Of course, Ruzena could have got the poison not from the tube but from elsewhere in the handbag. That's what would have happened if it was suicide. But if we adopt the murder theory, we have to accept that someone slipped into the medicine tube a poison that could be mistaken for one of Ruzena's tablets. That's the only possibility.'
'Pardon me for contradicting you,' said Dr. Skreta, 'but it's not so easy to turn an alkaloid into a normal-looking tablet. For that, you need access to pharmaceutical machinery, which isn't available to anybody around here.'
'Are you saying it's impossible for an ordinary person to get such a tablet?' the inspector asked.
'It's not impossible, but it's extremely difficult.'
'It's enough for me to know that it's possible,' said the inspector, and he went on: 'Now let's ask ourselves who might have had an interest in killing this woman. She wasn't rich, so we can rule out any financial motive. We can also eliminate political motives or espionage. So we're left with motives of a personal nature. Who are the suspects? First of all, Ruzena's lover, who
had a violent quarrel with her just before her death. Do you believe he was the one who gave her the poison?'
No one answered the inspectors question, and he continued: 'I don't think so. The boy was still fighting to keep Ruzena. He wanted to marry her. She was pregnant by him, and even if the child was another man's, what matters is that the boy was convinced she was pregnant by him. When he learned that she wanted an abortion he felt desperate. But please bear in mind that Ruzena had come back from the Abortion Committee, not from the abortion! For our desperate boy, all was not yet lost. The fetus was still alive and he was ready to do anything to save it. It's absurd to think that he would have given her poison at that point, when all he was hoping for was to live with her and have a child with her. Besides, the doctor has explained to us that it isn't possible for just anybody to procure poison that looks like an ordinary tablet. Where could this naive boy with no connections procure it? Would you explain that to me?'
Bertlef, whom the inspector kept addressing, shrugged his shoulders.
'Let's go on to other suspects. There's that trumpeter from the capital. It was here that he became acquainted with the deceased, and we'll never know to what point their relations went. In any case they were close enough for the deceased to ask him to pass himself off as the father of the fetus and to appear with her before the Abortion Committee. Why did she ask him rather than someone from around here? It's not hard to
guess. Any married man living in this little spa town would be afraid of trouble with his wife if word got around. Only someone from somewhere else could have done Ruzena that favor. What's more, the rumor that she was expecting the child of a famous artist could only be flattering to the nurse and could not harm the trumpeter. We can therefore assume that Mister Klima heedlessly agreed to do her the favor. Is that a reason to murder the poor nurse? It's highly improbable, as the doctor has explained to us, that Klima was really the child's father. But examine even that possibility. Let's assume that Klima was the father and that this was extremely disagreeable to him. Can you explain to me why he would kill the nurse when she had agreed to terminate the pregnancy and the operation had already been authorized? Now, Mister Bertlef, do you really want to say that Klima is the murderer?''
'You're misunderstanding me,' said Bertlef calmly. 'I do not wish to send anyone to the electric chair. I only wish to exonerate Ruzena. Because suicide is the greatest sin. Even a life of suffering has a mysterious value. Even a life on the threshold of death is a thing of splendor. Anyone who has not looked death in the face does not know this, but I know it, Inspector, and that is why I tell you I will do everything I can to prove that this young woman is innocent.''
'I'm trying to do that too,' said the inspector. 'And actually there's still a third suspect. Mister Bertlef, an American businessman. He's admitted that the deceased spent the last night of her life with him. One might
object that this is something the murderer probably wouldn't voluntarily admit to us. But that objection doesn't pass scrutiny. Everyone at the concert yesterday evening saw Mister Bertlef sitting next to Ruzena and leaving with her. Mister Bertlef knows very well that under such circumstances it's better to admit something promptly rather than to be unmasked by others. Mister Bertlef claims that Nurse Ruzena had a very satisfying night. That shouldn't surprise us! Mister Bertlef is not only a fascinating man but above all he's an American businessman who has dollars and a passport with which you can travel all over the world. Ruzena is walled up in this place, looking in vain for a way out. She has a boyfriend who wants only to marry her, but he's just a young local repairman. If she marries him her fate would be sealed forever, she will never get out. She has nobody else, so she doesn't break up with him. But she avoids binding herself to him permanently because she doesn't want to give up her hopes. And then suddenly an exotic man with refined manners appears, and he turns her head. She believes that he'll marry her and that she'll permanently leave behind this forsaken corner of the world. At first she knows how to behave like a discreet mistress, but then she becomes more and more of a nuisance. She makes it clear that she will not give him up, and she starts to blackmail him. But Bertlef is married and, if I'm not mistaken, he loves his wife, who is the mother of his one-year-old boy and is expected to arrive here from America tomorrow. Bertlef wants at all costs to avoid a scandal. He knows that Ruzena always
carries a tube of tranquilizers, and he knows what the tablets look like. He has a lot of connections abroad, and he has a lot of money. For him it's no problem to have a poison tablet made that looks the same as Ruzenas medicine. In the course of that wonderful night, while his mistress was sleeping, he slipped the poison into the tube. I think, Mister Bertlef,' the inspector concluded with a solemnly raised voice, 'that you are the only person with a motive to murder the nurse and also the only person with the means. I ask you to confess.'
Silence pervaded the room. The inspector looked Bertlef in the eye for a long while, and Bertlef returned the look with equal patience and silence. His face expressed neither amazement nor irritation. At last he said: 'I am not surprised by your conclusion. Since you are incapable of finding the murderer, you have to find someone to assume reponsibility for the offense. It is one of the mysterious laws of life that the innocent must pay for the guilty. Please do arrest me.'
22
The countryside was suffused with soft twilight. Jakub halted in a village only a few kilometers from the border crossing. He wished to prolong the last moments he would be spending in his country. He got out of the
car to take a little stroll down the village street.
It was not a pretty street. Lying around in front of the low-roofed houses were rolls of rusted wire, an old tractor wheel, pieces of scrap metal. It was a neglected, ugly village. Jakub told himself that the scattering of rusted wire was like a coarse word his native land was addressing to him by way of farewell. He walked to the end of the street to a small pond. The pond, neglected too, was covered with green scum. Some geese were splashing
