R. Morris - The Cleansing Flames

‘That’s correct, sir. I was sure that you would not remember me.’

‘How could I forget you? You were my most. . challenging student.’

‘I hope in a good sense?’

‘Well, I like to be challenged, so any sense is a good sense. But yes, I meant it in the best possible sense. Your questions kept me on my toes.’

Virginsky had the slight suspicion that his old professor had him muddled with someone else. ‘I. . am flattered, sir.’

‘I see you have entered the service.’ Was there a note of disappointment in the question?

‘Yes, sir. I hope to reform it from within.’

This provoked a burst of deep, unrestrained laughter from Tatiscev. Virginsky felt himself blush. ‘Forgive me. I see you are in earnest.’ Tatiscev smiled indulgently. ‘Still and all, it is good to see that your radical spirit remains undimmed.’ He turned his crimped eyes on Porfiry Petrovich. ‘You have brought a friend with you, I see.’

‘This is my superior, Porfiry Petrovich.’

‘I am honoured to meet you, Professor Tatiscev.’ Porfiry blinked pleasurably and bowed his head.

‘So, this is the great investigating magistrate, Porfiry Petrovich.’ Tatiscev rose from his seat and extended a hand.

‘You have heard of me?’

Virginsky tightened his lips in displeasure. To him, Porfiry’s astonishment seemed affected.

‘I am a professor of law,’ said Tatiscev, gesturing for his guests to sit down. ‘I make it my business to follow all the important cases passing through our courts. I think it’s fair to say that you have been associated with many of the most notable, not to say sensational.’

‘I have not deliberately courted sensation.’

‘I was particularly interested in a case of several years ago. That of the former student Raskolnikov. It interested me, amongst other reasons, because I had taught the fellow.’

Porfiry took in the news with two sharp blinks. ‘How interesting. I did not know.’

Tatiscev seemed to detect something recriminatory in Porfiry’s response. ‘In my defence, I would say that I have taught many students who did not go on to become murderers. In fact, by far the majority of those graduating from my classes show no signs of murderous inclinations whatsoever.’

‘So you do not consider yourself responsible for Raskolnikov’s misguided acts?’

‘In all conscience, I can say that I do not.’

‘There are some who would blame you for every crime committed in Russia.’ Porfiry’s tone was bantering. ‘Or perhaps you are not familiar with certain editorials appearing in a number of conservative publications.’

‘The number being two, both of which are edited by the same man. You are talking about Russian Era and Russian Soil , I take it?’

‘I am.’ Porfiry smiled.

Tatiscev dismissed the articles with a sweep of the hand. ‘Have you really come here to talk about libellous innuendo printed in those disreputable Slavophile gutter rags? And, I might add, written by a pseudonymous hack.’

‘Curiously, we have.’

‘We do not take them seriously, of course,’ put in Virginsky.

‘I hope I have made that clear,’ added Porfiry. ‘As far as I can see, there is no substance to the vitriolic attacks, which seem rather to have been prompted by a personal vendetta than any credible political opposition. What interests us is the identity of the author.’

‘I cannot help you there. I have no idea who wrote them.’

‘Oh, but we do.’

Professor Tatiscev gave Porfiry a startled glare. He quickly recovered his composure. ‘How interesting. Are you intending to prosecute him?’

‘I fear it may be too late to do so,’ said Porfiry.

‘What do you mean?’

‘We fear he may be dead. A body was found in the burnt-out wreck of his apartment. A definite identification is impossible. But it seems very likely that it is the man who wrote the attacks on you.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Have you ever heard of a journalist called Demyan Antonovich Kozodavlev?’

‘Kozodavlev? But Kozodavlev would not write for Trudolyubov. He despises everything that man stands for!’

‘So you do know Mr Kozodavlev?’

‘Not personally,’ said Tatiscev quickly. ‘I know of him, of course. I am a great admirer of his work. I subscribe to a number of journals he contributes to. He would never write for Trudolyubov. It is inconceivable.’

‘And yet he did. Under the pseudonym of K.’

‘I don’t believe it!’

‘It can be proven,’ said Porfiry wearily, as if he would rather Tatiscev did not call upon him to do so. He compromised with an appeal to Virginsky: ‘Is that not so, Pavel Pavlovich?’

‘It seems to be the case,’ confirmed Virginsky, heavily.

‘What interests us, and, frankly, why we are here, is the question of why Mr Kozodavlev took it into his head to pen these terrible and baseless attacks on you. Especially if, as you say, you did not know him personally, but only through his work — that is to say, the work he produced under his own name.’

‘I really have no idea.’

‘You described the attacks as libellous. Did you never think to seek redress in the courts? You are a lawyer, after all.’

‘Like you, I did not take them seriously. They were an irritant, but one that it was easy enough for me to ignore. In all honesty, I did not consider that they damaged my reputation, so much as that of the scoundrel who published them. The best action, I decided, was to take no action.’

‘At any rate, it appears that you need not concern yourself any more about the continuation of these articles.’

‘Are you suggesting that I had a motive for killing this man? But I had no idea he was behind it all. How could I? And I rather suspect that Trudolyubov will find some other hack to take up the cudgels against me.’

‘They call you the Devil’s Professor, you know.’

‘Do they really? I have no idea what they mean by that.’

‘It is an allusion to your atheism, I believe.’

‘But that really is absurd. Yes, I am an atheist. Which is to say, I do not believe in God. By the same token, neither do I believe in the Devil. An atheist cannot also be a Satanist. They have proven themselves to be imbeciles, as we always suspected.’

‘Perhaps that was why Kozodavlev wrote the articles,’ said Virginsky suddenly. His former professor and his superior looked at him with interest. ‘Not to attack Professor Tatiscev, but to subvert Trudolyubov. By tricking Trudolyubov into publishing these ridiculous articles, he succeeded in bringing his newspapers into disrepute. Perhaps he was hoping to provoke Professor Tatiscev into pursuing a defamation charge.’ Virginsky addressed Tatiscev directly: ‘Which he was confident you would win, sir. What he could not bank on was your admirable restraint.’

‘If so, it was rather a subtle plan of his, and one which I rather wish he had not undertaken — at least not without consulting me first.’

‘But perhaps he did,’ said Porfiry, mischievously.

‘But I have already told you that I did not know this Kozodavlev.’

‘Oh, yes, you did, didn’t you!’ Porfiry grinned foolishly. ‘Sometimes it is difficult to retain all the essential elements of a case in one’s mind. Particularly as one gets on in years. Generally, I rely on Pavel Pavlovich to be my memory.’ Porfiry reached across and clasped Virginsky’s arm firmly. ‘He is a pillar of strength to me.’

Virginsky very much wanted to shake Porfiry off, but contented himself with glaring resentfully down at the hand on his arm.

Porfiry at last released his grip and leant back complacently in his chair. ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, Professor, you look to me very much like a man who ought to believe in God.’