Ivan Klíma - Judge On Trial

He had not expected such a lengthy statement and it stupefied, sickened and alarmed him so much that he stood up and said: ‘All I have to say is that my friends and I do nothing that contravenes our laws.’

He was so disconcerted that he shook the proffered hand and even said ‘See you’ on the way out. He immediately realised the fateful meaning of his slip of the tongue, but it was too late to withdraw the words.

3

Having called the courthouse to say he would be delayed a little longer, he managed to get hold of a taxi and returned home.

Alena was still lying down, her head sunk deep in the pillow. Her rather prominent chin seemed to him fixed and rigid and her nose had become pointed like the ones on the corpses he had seen drawn along on carts in his childhood. Then she moved, slowly pushing the pillow aside. ‘You’re back already?’

‘I just looked in to see how you were.’

‘That’s… that’s nice of you.’ She uttered the words slowly and deliberately as if searching for each word separately. She looked so wretched that he felt sorry for her. How could she have done it? Whatever possessed her to want to end her life all of a sudden? Was it he who had driven her to it? Had he dragged her into his own emptiness, in which she turned on the gas out of despair, or had she fallen victim to her own emptiness? ‘Can I get you something? You ought to drink milk.’

‘Do you think so?’

At the same time, he was repelled by her dull, lethargic resignation. He brought her a cup of milk. She sat up and sipped it like a child.

‘Will you tell me how it all happened?’

‘I called you and you weren’t in.’ Her lower lip quivered.

‘Did he persuade you?’

‘All he said was…’ She stopped. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘He wanted to kill you.’

‘But you weren’t at home!’

‘Are you trying to tell me that I was partly to blame?’

‘Don’t shout at me!’

‘I wasn’t home, just like you weren’t home.’

‘It hurts me here when you shout,’ she said, indicating her forehead.

‘Can you tell me whose idea it was?’

She said nothing.

‘Who turned the gas on?’

‘Stop interrogating me. That’s the one thing I ask. At least leave me alone now!’

‘Did he do it?’

‘He still loves me… Unlike you…’

‘That’s why he wanted to kill you. You are aware, are you, that he wanted to kill you?’

‘No.’

‘What do you mean “No”?’

‘I don’t want you to talk about it now. Please leave me alone.’

‘As you like. Shouldn’t I take you to the doctor’s?’

‘No. I’ll get over it.’

‘And what if… You won’t do anything like that again?’

‘No… After all, I’ve got…’ She burst into tears.

‘Do you promise?’

‘Leave me alone, please!’

‘Stay in bed. I’ll be back soon.’

‘Will you really?’

‘I’ll do my best. And I’ll phone you.’

‘Adam, I didn’t want to. I’m sorry. It was the last thing I wanted.’

‘I know. Now stop thinking about it and rest.’

‘But what’s going to happen now?’

‘Try not to think about anything.’

‘How do you expect me not to think about it?’ Tears streamed down her cheeks.

He felt regret at everything that had happened and at the way things now were. He bent over and hugged her. She clung to him desperately.

‘You must never do anything like that again.’

‘I know, Adam. I love you all so much.’

Her eyes were fixed on him. Her tear-filled eyes strove to catch him, call him back, hold on to him and tie him down.

As he was going out of the door he just caught her whispered words: ‘Do you love me too?’ He pretended not to hear and left hastily.

He entered his office just as his colleague was putting a demijohn of wine into the cupboard. ‘Look what they brought me. Out of sheer gratitude for divorcing them. Fancy a glass?’

‘I’ll have a drop. I’m not here with the car today!’ He felt the need to justify his assent. He drank the glass off almost in one go. Somehow he ought to let his friends know he had been asked about them. But he was reluctant to call them. He didn’t trust the telephone.

And he ought to do something about that student too. Fancy her getting involved with a deviant poisoner like him. He could have him prosecuted, but it would be more useful to get him to a psychiatrist; before he ended up doing something like that other youngster, the one whose case was coming up. They had something in common, he realised. The same bemused expression and a feigned confidence when speaking. What kind of emptiness did they inhabit? What icy winds blew through it? It was not in his power to save them from it. All he could do was try them. But what was the point of such a trial, what was the point of a judge who had nothing but the letter of the law to offer if anyone were to ask him what he should fill that icy void with?

‘I’ve meant to ask you several times,’ his colleague said suddenly, ‘how well you know Oldřich.’

As if there was any way of answering a question like that. ‘May I have another glass?’

‘Of course you can. It’s a novelty to see you drink.’ She gazed at him expectantly.

‘We used to share an office at one time; but I don’t know what I could tell you that might interest you.’

‘Of course. I do know what you mean. Sorry for asking such a tactless question.’ She actually blushed.

‘He was always nice to me and whenever I needed help, he helped me,’ he added, forcing himself to come up with a reference of some kind.

‘He always speaks well of you too.’

‘Really?’ He took another drink, but was unable to get drunk fast enough to get out of this embarrassing conversation.

‘He would like me to explain some things to you.’

‘He wants you to explain something to me ?’

‘He has the feeling you don’t realise the situation you’re in.’

‘I’m sure he’s mistaken.’

‘No, I happen to think so too. You came up at a meeting recently. I oughtn’t to tell you, you know the form, but it would be better for you to know. They have lots of reservations about you. They gave you the Kozlík case deliberately. They know you’ll go out of your way to save him from the rope. But you’ll make sure he swings, won’t you?’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m advising you to. Because otherwise you’re for the chop.’

‘Why is someone so keen he should swing?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ she said. ‘After all, he did kill a child. People were incensed.’

‘That’s no reason. No one worries too much about what incenses people.’

‘They have to make some concessions. And even if there was pressure from somewhere else they’ll always use people’s reactions as an excuse.’

‘I’ve never sentenced anyone to hang. They’ll kick me out soon, one way or the other. At least I won’t have that on my conscience.’

‘He’s a killer. Surely you’re not going to sacrifice everything that matters to you just to save a villain who can’t be saved anyway?’

‘What are all those things that are supposed to matter to me?’

‘Ask yourself!’

‘I don’t know what should matter to me enough for me to allow another man to be killed for it.’

‘Oldřich thinks the way I do. He says there’s no point in playing the hero. These days, people prefer those who act with prudence and moderation.’

‘Like Oldřich?’

‘Do you think it’s so bad what he does? What good will it do you? You’ll lose your job and you won’t save the fellow anyway. The prosecution will appeal and make sure he swings. You don’t really expect anyone to be interested in the life of a murderer?’