R. Morris - A Razor Wrapped in Silk

‘I see. And then?’

‘Still he would not look at me. He turned his head away.’

‘And so?’

‘And so I threw him away from me.’

‘ Threw him?’ Porfiry’s emphasis was sceptical.

‘Pushed him, then.’

‘Where was this?’

‘In the drawing room.’

‘In the drawing room of his apartment?’

‘Yes.’

‘What did you do next?’

‘I ran. He was on the floor, not moving. I panicked. As I was leaving I ran into my cousin, Alyosha, who had just arrived from Moscow to see my father. He went into the apartment and confirmed that my father was dead. He then prevailed upon me to give myself up to the authorities, for the good of my soul. In truth, it was my own heartfelt desire.’

‘Your cousin was the gentleman who brought you here?’

‘Yes. He had come of his own volition to see my father. It was about the will. I was to be cut out, in Alyosha’s favour. Alyosha sought to dissuade my father on my behalf.’

‘And has the will been changed yet?’

‘Alyosha says not.’

Porfiry and Virginsky met each other’s gaze thoughtfully.

‘I did not kill my father for his money, if that’s what you’re thinking. I did not mean to kill him at all. I wanted to be reconciled with him. I just wanted him to acknowledge me as his son. I needed my father’s love. I had nowhere else to turn.’ Mizinchikov looked desperately from Virginsky to Porfiry, his eyes moist with exhausted emotion. His voice was imploring. ‘I could not go to my friends. I have no friends. Other than my cousin, but he was in Moscow. I tried Bakhmutov. I went to him to ask for money so that I could get to Moscow, but he set his lackeys on me. Would not even admit me. Since that night at the Naryskin Palace, I have been sleeping rough, living on scraps. I couldn’t take it any longer. I wanted to talk to my father, to ask him what I should do. But even he would not look at me. You don’t know what it has been like, all these weeks! I have felt such … despair. Such loneliness. And when my father would not look at me … Everything, every insult and humiliation, every bitter emotion welled up inside me. I saw a red mist, that’s all I can say.’

‘A red mist?’

‘Yes. Quite literally. Have you ever seen a red mist? I had not believed in the truth of the expression until that moment. I felt … a terrible rage. I killed him.’

‘But your father was found dead on the stairs outside his apartment. Not in the drawing room. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but it seems you may not have killed him.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Nor do I, fully. But perhaps your father went after you. Perhaps he wished to be reconciled after all. His heart gave way, however, and he fell.’

‘Then it is still true to say that I killed him. For if I had not laid hands on him in the drawing room, his constitution would not have been fatally weakened.’

‘There is another possibility,’ said Porfiry, musingly, as if to himself. ‘Pavel Pavlovich, would you ask Captain Mizinchikov’s cousin to join us?’

Virginsky bowed and crossed to the door.

Captain Mizinchikov’s cousin came in hesitantly, his cap in his hands. He was a tall man with a wide, high forehead, which bulged at the temples. His eyes were quick and intelligent. He wore his hair long and a soft, drooping moustache partially concealed his mouth.

‘You are Alexei Ivanovich, I believe?’ began Porfiry.

‘Yes, that’s right.’ Alexei Ivanovich held his head angled backwards, as if detaching himself from his surroundings, the better to observe them.

‘The deceased, General Mizinchikov, was your uncle? And this gentleman is your cousin?’

‘Correct.’

‘Are you related on your father’s or your mother’s side?’

‘Mother’s.’

‘Ah, yes, I remember the general made reference to the fecundity of his sisters. Your family name is?’

‘Zahlebinin.’

‘And it was you who found General Mizinchikov on the stairs?’

‘That is correct.’

‘He was dead when you found him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you qualified to make such a pronouncement?’

‘I have studied natural science. I felt for a pulse. And found none. I saw the wound on his head.’

‘And you urged your cousin to hand himself over to the authorities?’

‘I did.’

‘Why? Did you believe him to be his father’s murderer?’

‘I knew that he had attacked his father and that his father now lay dead.’

‘Did you not ascertain from talking to Captain Mizinchikov where exactly his violent quarrel with his father took place?’

‘My cousin was barely coherent. His account of what had taken place was confused. I limited myself to the facts, as I perceived them.’

‘He does not seem confused or incoherent now.’

‘He had not eaten for days. That is a circumstance that I have since rectified.’

‘Captain Mizinchikov and his father quarrelled inside the apartment. General Mizinchikov was found dead on the stairs outside the apartment.’

Alexei Ivanovich seemed overjoyed by this discrepancy. ‘Then Kostya did not kill him?’

‘We can at least say that General Mizinchikov was alive when Captain Mizinchikov left him. Alive and well enough to walk outside his apartment to the stairs. Where he may well have suffered a heart attack or a fatal accident. Or …’

‘Or what?’ asked Alexei Ivanovich uneasily.

‘Or some other person may have pushed him down the stairs.’

Alexei Ivanovich’s face flushed a deep shade of crimson. ‘You think I did it?’

‘There is the question of the will.’

‘Yes. The will. But as the will stands, Kostya will inherit his father’s fortune. My uncle did not get round to changing it. I had nothing to gain from this death. In fact, it would have been better for me if he had stayed alive a little longer … long enough to change his will in my favour.’

‘Except that you did not want him to change the will. You wanted the money to go to Kostya. You took your cousin’s side and you hated your uncle as any man would hate a miser and an unnatural father. So you killed him before he was able to write Kostya out of his will. You knew very well where the argument had taken place — and therefore you trusted that no charges would be brought against your cousin, once it was realised that his father was strong enough to stand up and walk away from where he had fallen. And yet you also knew that Captain Mizinchikov had to be prevailed upon to hand himself in, because as an outlaw he would not be able to access his fortune. Of course there is the matter of the other crimes of which he stands accused. Perhaps you acted in the heat of the moment, or perhaps you took a calculated gamble. You must have followed the details of the investigation in the newspapers. Taking the hint from a recent article, you believed that the authorities would be lenient in their treatment of your cousin in relation to the murder of Yelena Filippovna. There was still the charge of desertion — but a dishonourable discharge from his regiment would not prevent him from inheriting. You yourself would have been immune from suspicion — or so you believed — because of the lack of motive. I must point out to you that you were very quick to present the argument concerning the will.’

‘And all this you have deduced from what ?’ demanded Alexei Ivanovich incredulously.

‘From your plaid travelling cloak.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘And your student cap. And your studies in natural science. You are, are you not, a nihilist?’

‘I do not accept the term.’

‘Neither do you accept traditional notions of morality. You felt the injustice of your uncle’s position towards your cousin, and you determined to do something about it when you had the chance. Is that not so?’