Fixer, The - Bernard Malamud [91]
Grubeshov began to walk on his oriental rug. “Even with six or seven lawyers you will be convicted and sentenced to total solitary confinement for the rest of your life. Do you think a jury of patriotic Russians will believe what some shyster concocts for you to say?”
“I will tell them the truth.”
“If the ‘truth’ is what you have told us, no sane Russian will believe you.”
“I thought you might, your honor, since you know the evidence.”
Grubeshov paused in his pacing to clear his throat. “I least of all, though I have given thought to the possibility that you were once a virtuous man who became the expiatory victim of his co-religionists. Would it interest you to know that the Tsar himself is convinced you committed the crime?”
“The Tsar?” said Yakov in astonishment. “Does he know about me? How could he think such a thing?” His heart sank heavily.
“His Majesty has taken an active interest in this case since he read of Zhenia’s murder in the newspapers. He at once sat down at his desk and wrote me in his own hand the following: ‘I hope you will spare no pains to unearth and bring to justice the despicable Jewish murderer of that lad.’ I quote from memory. His Majesty is a most sensitive person and some of his intuitions are extraordinary. Since then I’ve kept him informed of the progress of the investigation. It is conducted with his full knowledge and approval.”
Ah, it’s bad luck, the fixer thought. After a while he said, “But why should the Tsar believe what isn’t true?”
Grubeshov quickly returned to his desk and sat down. “He is convinced, as we all are, by the accumulative evidence conveyed in the testimony of the witnesses.”
“What witnesses?”
“You know very well which witnesses,” Grubeshov said impatiently. “By Nikolai Maximovitch Lebedev, for instance, and his daughter, refined and genteel people. By Marfa Golov, the long-suffering mother of an unfortunate son, a tragic but pure woman. By the foreman Proshko and the two drivers. By the janitor Sko-believ, who saw you offering sweets to Zhenia, and will testify in court that you chased the boy several times in the brickyard. It was through your intervention, Nikolai Maximovitch tells us, that the man was discharged from his job.”
“I never knew he was discharged.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know that you will find out.”
Grubeshov went on naming witnesses. “I shall also cite testimony by your Jewish cellmate, Gronfein, whom you urged, as a favor to the Jewish community, to bribe Marfa Vladimirovna so she wouldn’t testify against you. By a beggar woman who once asked you for alms, which you refused her, and who saw you enter a shop where knives are sharpened. By the proprietor of that establishment and his assistant, who will say two of your knives were sharpened to the highest pitch and then returned to you. By certain religious figures, scientists of Jewish history and theology, and alienists who are authorities on the Jewish mind. We have already gathered more than thirty reliable witnesses. His Majesty has read all the relevant testimony. When he last visited Kiev shortly after your arrest, I had the honor to inform him, ‘Sire, I am happy to report that the guilty culprit in Zhenia Golov’s murder has been apprehended and is now in prison. He is Yakov Bok, a member of one of the Jewish fanatic groups, the Hasidim.’ I assure you His Majesty bared his head in the rain and made the sign of the cross to express his thanks to the Lord for your apprehension.”
The fixer could see the Tsar crossing himself, bareheaded in the rain. For the first time he wondered if it were a matter of mistaken identity. Could they have confused him with someone else?
The prosecutor opened a side drawer of his desk and took out a folder of newspaper clippings. He read from one: “ ‘His Majesty expressed himself as justified in his belief that the crime was the dastardly work of a Jewish criminal who must be properly punished for his barbaric deed. “We shall do whatever is necessary to protect our innocent Russian children and their anxious mothers. When I think of