like that for a while, before asking, in a voice that was hoarse with stubbornness, ‘The law’s not on my side, then?’
I could have revealed to him the real situation and explained that I was not that clear about my powers and therefore not willing to take any action. I said, ‘The new situation demands that I receive confirmation of the relevant sections of the law and how they are to be put into practice. And that may take time.’
‘I haven’t got time,’ he said. ‘My time was up long ago.’
I spread my hands. ‘I can’t do anything about that. Sir will just have to wait.’
‘And is that Mr Crown Bailiff’s last word?’ he asked. If he could have spat bullets out of his eyes, you would have been able to see through the holes in my face. ‘That I can’t get justice in this matter?’
I was growing seriously irritated with him. I said, ‘Sir will get justice all right. But sir shouldn’t imagine that the whole realm dances to his tune. Just leave your address in the office, go home and wait till you’re summoned again for a hearing.’
‘And the papers?’
‘They’ll stay here for the forthcoming proceedings.’
‘How do I know they’re safe?’
I stood up, staying calm, and walked round my desk. ‘The clerk will give you a certificate with the official stamp of the Empire for the papers and their contents.’
His eyes darted about wildly. ‘A certificate for the certificates?’
I opened the door for him with my own hands. ‘Exactly. Please go now. And wait.’
Perhaps it was at that very moment that he made up his mind not to wait. I suspected nothing. I forgot him before the day was done. Nothing in my career had prepared me for it: that raggedy dwarf turned out to be the most devious and unscrupulous crook I have ever encountered.
I do not completely dismiss the notion that higher powers intervened in my fate, punishing me for my immoral conduct. If my offence comes to light some day, despite all my precautions, I will appeal to the fact that the harlot was put in my way maliciously, as a temptation. A man who has carried out heavy official duties for decades should be judged by different standards from those applied to some dung-cart driver or ploughman. And the conclusions drawn when judging his actions should surely also differ. I undoubtedly did wrong in getting mixed up with that slattern, but there are mitigating circumstances. Unfortunately, they are unlikely to impress my lady wife.
I suppose I fell for the whore’s youth. A man of a certain age knows when he is over the hill. The valley looms down below and the man grows anxious. He is moved to mourn all the chances he thinks are lost. I was unexpectedly offered such a chance. It was positively handed to me on a platter. I happened to pay a brief visit to the salon on the outskirts of the town. No one could count me among its regular clientele, but nonetheless, I occasionally found my way there in order to escape the toll exacted by my heavy workload. I thought I would just sit down for a while, drink a well-deserved glass of liqueur and maybe smoke a pipe, when an unknown woman unexpectedly joined me. She was giggling naughtily and fluttering her eyelashes. She smelt of warm thighs.
The madam of the salon came over. She whispered into my ear that there was a room upstairs that happened to be unoccupied. Somebody had left a bed in it. That bed had clean sheets. I did not think much about what I was doing. We ascended the stairs and reached the end chamber. The woman seemed to have four pairs of hands, grown for fornication, and three pairs of legs suitable for the same purpose. Then the door we had shut suddenly sprang open. She vanished from the tangle. After twisting into a sitting position I saw that creature Mauri, whom I had by now blissfully forgotten. He had two men with him. They may not have been the most esteemed gentlemen of the town, but they were nevertheless trustworthy burghers. I knew their testimony would carry weight. I rapidly assessed the situation. I realized that if their testimonies were to be supplemented by the evidence given by the scarecrow named Mauri and the harlot who was presently pulling on her dress in a corner, and if their reports all matched up, I would find it extremely hard to prove them false. So I sent the others on their way and asked the scarecrow what he wanted from me.
‘There’s that business I came to see you about,’ he said.
‘Yes, that’s true,’ I replied, yanking on my trousers. ‘I was intending to act in the matter first thing tomorrow.’
‘Thought so.’
I had no choice but to comply with his wishes. However chaotic the official machinery of the realm might be nowadays, I do not doubt but that my actions will have the force of law in this matter. I need not have a guilty conscience in that respect. On the contrary, one could argue that I have shown commendable initiative in carrying out my duties. I would now be able to forget the whole thing, along with all the other trivia I have had to deal with in my life, had I not seen the eyes of the older mistress of the house.
If only I had seen sorrow in her eyes, because what I saw was a great deal more frightening: she gazed at me with the eyes of a woman unnaturally contented with her fate.
He has told us to leave in the morning. The Devil knows where he got the money from, unless all this time he has had a fortune buried somewhere on my land. That is unlikely, for even Beelzebub’s henchmen are not endowed with such patience. Anyway, at least the land is staying in the family. Until today, I would not have believed that he could run a pigsty, let alone a large estate, but now I would not be surprised to learn he was conspiring to acquire the whole municipality.
He is good enough to let me have a mare and a cart. No doubt he expected me to burst into songs of praise. I could argue that household goods are not part of the property, but it would probably not be worth doing so; he seems to be in great favour with the Bailiff. I suppose we must be grateful that we do not have to leave in our birthday suits.
The worst of it is, I can understand him. We have not treated him well. Pride comes before a fall indeed. We are paying now, by humbling ourselves.
Who knows, maybe I will find a position in Turku and I will yet be able to lead a life with Anna that is fit for a human being. Whatever else Henrik may say, he may be right that these times require new men. Fortunately, my aunt’s husband is well connected. According to Mother, he has long hobnobbed with the Russians. I just have to conceal the fact that I enlisted off my own bat to get to slaughter Russkies. The existence of documentary evidence is unlikely, unless Mauri has it under his mattress.
All in all, the more I think about this new turn of events, the more relieved I feel. Before long, I may be able to sleep at nights. Defeat came long ago; postponing its admission has only prolonged my agony. Now, finally facing up to my loss, I am freed.
I look at Erik’s sunken shoulders and I see in him an old man. Tomorrow he will look like the Farmhand. Grim thoughts will thin his hair, his lips will shrivel into dry lines, he will rub his aching loins surreptitiously. He will see the world through melancholy eyes and look away. I approach him from behind, I rest my hand on his shoulder and peer over it out of the window. The snowfall has ceased, the landscape stretches out, shivery and empty. Erik’s nape is cold bone. At times I would like to bury him as if he were a child who had died at my breast.
‘You didn’t have a woman, after all,’ I say.
‘I didn’t.’
‘And I thought you did.’
‘That’s not good.’
He has said sorry this way before. I twist my other arm round his waist. He does not move. He is a tree, abandoned by a forest that has crawled off and left him behind to be battered by the winds.
‘When do we have to leave, then?’ I ask.
‘He said we should go in the morning.’
‘Can he be that cruel?’
He turns; my hold on him loosens. ‘He’s come to an agreement with the Bailiff. Who knows what sort of a pact they have. If we don’t go voluntarily, soldiers might yet come to turf us out.’
When I see his face I understand that he is not crushed by sorrow. He is thoughtful and exhausted, but not sad.
