Ivan Klíma - Judge On Trial

Someone picked up the receiver and before Adam had a chance to say anything, the sound of distant music and a muffled man’s voice could be heard from the other end. It might just as easily have come from a radio.

‘Hello!’ she said.

‘Is that you, Alexandra? This is Adam. Am I disturbing you?’

‘Why should you be disturbing me? Oldřich said you’d be at some party or other.’

‘We were.’

‘And did you leave?’

‘I left to call you.’

‘That’s nice of you.’

‘I didn’t catch you in the middle of something, did I?’

‘Not in the least, I was just listening to a record. A friend sent it me from Holland recently. Drop by some time, I’ll play it to you.’

‘Are you going to spend the whole evening playing records?’

‘No — I’m not sure. I never know in advance what I’ll be doing. I’ll probably buzz off somewhere, it’s too nice an evening to stay indoors.’

‘Do you think we might go somewhere together? Or do you have company already?’

‘Something, yes.’

‘I’m sorry!’

She dropped her voice so that she was scarcely audible: ‘I didn’t know you’d be calling.’

‘Of course you didn’t.’

‘Unless you felt like joining us. There’d be no problem if you fancied it.’

‘No, thanks. I’ll go straight home.’

‘As you like. But there was no reason why you shouldn’t join us. And don’t forget to drop by and hear that record.’

‘Thanks, I’ll come over some time.’

‘You can always give me a call at work beforehand so I know you’re coming.’ She hung up and was gone.

He left the booth. Television sets screamed from open windows and a tramcar squealed in the distance. Otherwise the place was a desert. Neither people, dogs nor trees. Just drab cars parked along the kerb. But then he caught sight of a young couple crouching behind one of the cars. The young man was wearing a double-breasted suit and carrying an attaché case under his arm. The woman was certainly older than he. They sensed his eyes on them, turned and walked slowly away.

Where should he go? If only Alena were here with the children. But there was no sense in driving out to them now. It would be midnight before he arrived and he’d have to leave again in the morning. Or he could get on with some writing. He had actually started an extensive study of the role of the judge in different legal systems. Except that nobody would be interested in his book, so why go on working on it?

A wind rose from the river and there was a flash of lightning over Petřín Hill in the distance.

He was not too far from the courthouse. If he was going to be sitting on his own, he might as well sit in his office. At least in one’s office one could look forward to going home, even to an empty one, but what was there to look forward to in an empty home?

He walked up to his floor. An open window rattled in the corridor; he had to climb up on to the radiator to close it.

A glimmer of light was coming from under his office door. It startled him. Who could have left the light on in his office? During the summer even the cleaners went home before dark. Or was there someone inside?

He stood waiting outside the door until it struck him as a little ludicrous that he should be trying to eavesdrop on his own office.

At the coffee table, Alice and his friend Oldřich were drinking wine.

They exchanged glances. Alice blushed. Oldřich smiled.

‘I beg your pardon, I didn’t realise…’

‘Don’t apologise,’ Oldřich interrupted him. ‘It is your office. If you’ve come to do some work, we’ll go elsewhere.’

‘No, not at all. I just came to pick something up.’

‘If you’re in no hurry, you can join us,’ Oldřich suggested. ‘There must be another glass around here somewhere.’

‘No, thanks all the same. You know I don’t drink.’ He’d had enough polite invitations for one evening.

‘So you did a bunk too, then? It’s not the best sort of company to keep at present. It’s unfortunate,’ his friend said, turning to Alice, ‘but one has to be very careful whom one associates with these days. Things like that always used to stick in my gullet.’

Adam pretended to be looking for something in his drawer. He took out a sheaf of papers and stuck them in his briefcase. He had had no idea there was something going on between the two of them. He could offer them the use of his flat. Lend Oldřich the keys and stay here. It would be a way of repaying an outstanding debt. Though from what he knew of him, he was bound to have somewhere to go. Then it suddenly occurred to him that Oldřich might be waiting for his own flat to fall vacant, that he was hanging about until Alexandra went off with someone or out to meet somebody and left him her rococo bedroom.

‘Adam has excellent career prospects,’ Oldřich was telling Alice. ‘He was lucky enough to find himself on the other side of the globe during the crisis period and didn’t have a chance to blot his copy-book. And his crimes from before then will soon be swept under the carpet.’

Outside it was pouring down with rain. He ran across the street and sheltered in a gateway opposite the tram stop. He felt wretched. So according to Oldřich his future was rosy. Maybe, after a while — and some further clemency — they would even re-employ him at the institute. Or even at the law school, in place of someone who no longer had a future. No doubt it depended on him too.

His feeling of wretchedness grew stronger. He must put these things out of his mind. Tomorrow he would go down to see the family. But there was something he was supposed to deal with before then. Oh, yes, the money. And he’d buy something for Alena to cheer her up. He was glad he had her — that he had in this world a person who was ingenuous and incapable of deceit. He had always taken it too much for granted. He would have to tell her so: that he loved her for it.

It started to grow cooler. His wet shirt made him feel cold and he was almost shivering. As he was running across the pavement to get on the tram he realised that he could see a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye. He managed to take another look. The young man in the double-breasted jacket (he was now wet and minus his companion, though Adam couldn’t make out where he’d come from so suddenly) was just getting into a car.

They both moved off at about the same moment, in opposite directions.

He remained standing for a moment on the rear platform of the tram, and with almost feverish anxiety waited to see if the car would appear behind. But there was no point. There were too many cars milling about and anyway, there was no hope of recognising it in the dark. He tried to persuade himself that the double encounter had been only a coincidence. Why should they be tailing him?

Then he slumped in the rearmost seat. He knew full well that it hadn’t been coincidence. So it was starting then. The main thing was not to get rattled needlessly. He’d have to take care tomorrow that they weren’t following him when he was carrying the money.

He realised that tomorrow at this time he would be with his wife, he would be lying at her warm, tender side, and he was comforted by the thought.

4

He had no difficulty finding the cottage that Petr had described. The gate was locked, however, and no one answered the bell. The woman next door (she eyed him suspiciously) told him that the young woman had gone off to Turnov with the baby. He fought off the inclination to get back in the car and drive away himself. To go back and return the money to Petr. Let him find another messenger. He’d have to realise that someone in his position was not suitable as a messenger.

He parked the car on the outskirts of the village and lay down on the grass for a while. Waiting was something he couldn’t abide; he could never concentrate on anything while waiting.