R. Morris - The Cleansing Flames

‘Yes.’

‘But are you really Dyavol?’

‘Would it be so terrible to you if I were?’

‘Terrible, no. It’s just that I don’t understand. Dolgoruky told me that it was Dyavol’s idea for Kozodavlev to write the articles against you. In which case, you yourself urged Kozodavlev to attack you! Why would you do that?’

‘Politically, Kozodavlev and I were close allies. And yet, in our personal lives, enemies. The enmity was not on my side, you understand. I had nothing against him. Indeed, I only ever wished him well, for so long as he was loyal to the cause. But Kozodavlev nurtured a deep and bitter resentment. It was all very well for him to declare himself a new man and to say that he would not stand in the way of his wife’s happiness. However, in reality, he could not get past the fact of his hatred for me. I knew that deep in his heart Kozodavlev wished to kill me, and certainly would have betrayed me at the first opportunity. No matter how much we talked things over as new men, and vowed allegiance to the cause, always rankling deep inside him was his hatred for me. I suggested that he write the articles as a way of exorcising his negative feelings, so that we could go on together in the work that really mattered. I urged him to make the attacks as vitriolic and personal as he could.’

‘But. . what did you have to gain by his attacking you?’

‘My reasons were psychological rather than political.’

‘What about Lebezyatnikov? Why did you have Kozodavlev lampoon him?’

‘Oh, that was not my idea. It was Dolgoruky who suggested that.’

‘Dolgoruky? He wanted his old tutor to be publicly ridiculed?’

‘That is the kind of man Dolgoruky was. The central committee were happy to go along with it as it drew attention away from our people. Lebezyatnikov really was a straw man. I was something a little more subtle. I was. . well, I was a leader of the revolution pretending to be a straw man!’

‘But did it not make life difficult for you?’

‘You forget. I am a respected professor of jurisprudence, with friends in the Ministry of Justice. Some of whom were my former students. Besides, there was nothing of substance in the attacks. The authorities were quick to see that. And I was very careful.’

‘Careful? What about Pseldonimov? Was that careful?’

‘That was necessary. Necessity always drives us harder than caution.’

‘According to Botkin, Pseldonimov was killed to bind the group together.’

‘That is correct. In particular, we wished to secure Kozodavlev’s loyalty. My earlier. . stratagem had not worked. He had poured out his vitriol — without inhibition — but still he hated me. I rather think it was the fact that I approved of what he was doing that undermined the exercise. He needed to hurt me — really hurt me. The problem was, if he hurt me, he hurt the cause. We could not allow that. And so, we needed to secure his loyalty another way. By binding him to the group in mutual guilt.’

‘But that didn’t work either, did it?’

‘Kozodavlev was not cut out for such deeds. When Pseldonimov’s body came to light, he panicked. He revealed to Dolgoruky that he was intending to inform. Of course, Dolgoruky passed on that information to me.’

‘Therefore Kozodavlev had to die?’

‘He had been warned. They had all been warned.’

‘Ah yes! You’re talking about Swine ! Dolgoruky told me you wrote it as a warning. Most people took it as a warning to society. But in fact it was written for a very select group of men. A pity that Kozodavlev chose to ignore it.’

‘What you must understand is that up until that moment I had nothing but the highest esteem for Demyan Antonovich.’

‘That didn’t prevent you from seducing his wife, or ordering his death.’

‘Come, come. As for the former, what makes you so certain it was a question of my seducing her? We were both adults, and she was in a relationship which, in theory at least, allowed her absolute freedom as far as the dictates of her heart were concerned. Neither of us did what we did in order to hurt Demyan Antonovich. We did it rather to please ourselves than to hurt another. And as for the latter point, his death was approved by the central committee. It was not a question of my ordering it.’

Blindfolded as he was, Virginsky had the sense that all that Tatiscev’s words contained was being trampled and churned in the ceaseless rotation of hooves. ‘What happened to her?’

Tatiscev hesitated a moment before answering: ‘She died. Her death seemed to unhinge Kozodavlev. He became unreliable. I felt — the central committee felt — that he was becoming a liability. His hatred towards me was getting out of hand. It seemed he held me responsible for her death, and for all manner of other evils. He had come to believe the propaganda he had written.’

‘And were you?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Responsible for her death?’

‘Not at all,’ Tatiscev answered calmly, as though it were a perfectly reasonable question, and perfectly reasonable that he might have been. ‘She died of consumption. We were no longer in contact. I had not seen her for many years. It was Kozodavlev who informed me of her death. I had moved on from my relationship with her; Demyan Antonovich had been unable to do so, it seemed.’

‘A sad story.’

‘Yes.’

‘But his death was in no way connected to your affair with his wife,’ stated Virginsky, as if to reassure himself on that point. He continued: ‘In this case, your reasons were political rather than psychological.’

Tatiscev seemed to take offence at Virginsky’s need to clarify this. ‘Of course. How could it be otherwise?’ A note of icy restraint entered his voice.

‘Well, it’s just that he must have embarrassed you, as cuckolds embarrass us all. And his enduring love for the woman you had taken from him and then callously abandoned. . Perhaps you saw it as a reproach? One that you could not bear.’

‘You’re a young man. Stupidly romantic. The fact of the matter is more prosaic. He had become unreliable. The central committee makes these decisions. Not I.’

‘Tell me, who set the fire? It was not Botkin. Or you?’

‘Of course not. We used an escaped convict called Rodya, a semi-literate and easily manipulated fellow. He had got hold of certain of our manifestos and believed that he was helping to initiate the revolution every time he shat inside a church. He was not averse to committing murder on our behalf, and did not need a very compelling reason to do so. A few roubles usually did the trick. Surprisingly few.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘We have had neither sight nor sound of him since the fire. Perhaps, considering the deaths of the children, he considered it wise to go to ground.’

Virginsky felt that the supposed death of Porfiry Petrovich gave him licence to ask anything. ‘What is your attitude to their deaths?’

‘Regrettable. But unavoidable.’

‘I wonder, is there any point in regretting that which is unavoidable?’ Virginsky was perhaps a little carried away by the idea of Porfiry’s death.

‘You sound like Botkin! I can see how you were able to shoot your colleague. Didn’t that cause you some regret?’

‘I take no particular pleasure from Porfiry Petrovich’s death.’ It was a statement Virginsky could only make believing Porfiry Petrovich to be still alive. ‘However, an act such as this was necessary to initiate the next stage of our great task.’

‘Ah yes, the next stage. Rest assured that everything is in place to capitalise on your singular deed.’

‘You intend to perpetrate an atrocity?’

‘I am not in a position to share details with you. In the meantime, the central committee has decided that it would be best if you were moved.’