North (51 page)

I don't have to tell you . . . I wasn't going back there in a hurry! . . . let them chisel, swindle, and laugh! the punks and punkesses! till they dislocate their pedicles! you got to be crazy to mess with those kind of people! . . . finicking evil-thinkers, lopsided cogitators! . . . dancing out of step! . . . glory be! . . . lost in the corridors . . . you call them up . . . they draft remember who . . . or what . . . nothing! . . . their telephone answers for them . . . "Monsieur Peliotrope is out! . . . wait for him! . . . he'll be right back!" . . .
bang!
. . . hang up! . . . don't wait! . . . Monsieur Peliotrope will never be back, the creep! . . . neither will you! . . . hell! with a little more patience I might have been able to talk to Nimier . . . about his "comics'' idea . . . I wonder if he's still thinking about it . . . seriously. . . I'll ask him next time . . . next time, in a few years . . . but now . . . where was I? . . . where were we? . . . my brains are scrambled . . . I've lost you again . . . a certain justification, of course, but even so . . . it's bad losing you! . . . my last reader maybe . . . okay! okay! where were we . . . let's not dawdle! . . . other worries! . . . I'm such a light sleeper, the slightest thing wakes me, I don't really sleep at all any more . . . what's going on . . . out there in the park? . . . barely daybreak . . . the bombs don't wake me, or the Marauders . . . all that's part of the setting, the ruckus in the clouds, sometimes more, sometimes less . . . or the shivering of the walls . . . no, this is something else . . . people! . . . people in a car! . . . we hadn't seen a car for months! . . . not even a wood-burner . . . a voice that I recognize: Kracht! . . . and other voices . . . a hunch . . . something to do with us . . . I'll go see . . . maybe they've come to hang us! . . . they've got the right, they've got all the rights! . . . we're ready quick . . . nothing to it, we sleep in our clothes . . . Bébert in his bag and down we go! . . . I was right! . . . a big gas-propelled Mercedes and five men in it . . . but not to hang us! . . . for the inquest! . . . Kracht introduces us . . . the examining magistrate, the
Untersuchungsrichter!
. . . bearded and bloated, gray hair . . . he's up early . . . four reservists with him,
Landwehr
. . . from where? Berlin? . . . no! someplace else! . . . hush hush! they're not saying! . . . I see they've still got cars . . . I suppose they keep them underground . . . the magistrate is looking at us . . . Kracht tells him who we are, where we come from . . . he doesn't talk French . . . he's wearing an officer's cap . . . the rest is civilian . . . swastika armband, an old suit and a hunting coat . . . he doesn't look rich . . . but I bet he eats well he ought to be in a good humor . . . he isn't! . . . he's brutal in fact!

"Everybody downstairs! quick! . . .
schnell! . . . schnell!"

He wants everybody to come down! . . . the whole manor! . . . he's in a hurry to get away . . . aren't we all?! . . . it's all right with Kracht! to the isbas! . . . two details immediately! and two from the farm! . . . plus the main crowd! . . . the staff! the typists and bookkeepers! . . . and the Kretzers! . . . and Inge and her daughter! . . . and the servant girls and gardeners . . . this magistrate means business! . . . he wants Marie-Thérèse too . . . he's waiting . . . he's not saying a word to us . . . ah yes! he's speaking to me . . .
"wo sind die?
where are they?" . . . the kind of German I understand . . . he must mean the stiffs! . . .
"einer ist da!
. . . one is there!
zwei sind da!"
I motion . . . one in the drawing room, inside . . . the two others, the cripple and the
Landrat
, where we put them, on the pile of leaves . . . next to the pond, well, the puddle . . . but, say . . . the
Landrat
's cord . . . the silk cord they'd strangled him with . . . what had become of it? first he wants to see the ones indoors . . . in the drawing room . . . okay!

"Sie wohnen da?
. . . you live here?"

"Ja . . . ja! . . . ja!"

"Come along then!"

To show him the way . . . here we are! He bends over the two of them . . .

"Sie sind Arzt
. . . you're a doctor?"

Kracht must have told him . . .

"Ja! ja!"

"Tot?
. . . dead?"

He asks me . . . he's still leaning over . . . he lifts one eyelid . . . he's got the wrong one! . . . not the stiff, the other one! . . . the
Revizor
's eyelid! . . . he'd been asleep!

"Ouch! ouch!"

He starts hollering! 

"Die Frauen!
. . . the women!"

Scared! . . . he thought they'd come back!

"Nein! nein!"

I reassure him . . . I show the magistrate which one is the, corpse . . . the
Rittmeister
. . . he won't mind . . . he can shake him all he pleases . . . he tries the arm . . . no reaction! . . . stiff! stiff as a board! . . .

"Tot?. . . tot?"

He takes out his notebook and writes . . . he looks at his watch . . . black steel . . . and puts down the time . . .

"And the other one?"

"Revizor!"

"Ach! . . . ach!"

He makes a note . . . so much for that . . .

"Die andern?
the others?"

Outside, I tell him . . . on the other side . . .

"Nun! . . . nun!"

He's in a hurry . . . we go out . . . to the pool . . .

"They're dead too . . . thoroughly dead! . . . drowned!
ertrunken!"

One word I know . . . he can shake them if he wants to! . . . he doesn't touch them, he takes my word for it . . . he notes the time and date . . .

"Da der Landrat? . . . da der sohn Leiden?"

He doesn't want to get them mixed up . . .

"That's the
Landrat!
. . . that's Leiden Junior!"

He doesn't ask me what's become of the cord . . . I'm certainly not going to bring it up!

"Gut! gut! nun Kracht!"

Kracht joins us . . . he's got people with him, a small crowd . . . everybody he could find at the farm . . . and at the manor . . . the whole house and the garden . . . and the ladies . . . all of them! . . . Inge von Leiden and little Cillie, and Marie-Thérèse, the heiress . . . and the Kretzers . . . and the whole staff of the
Dienstelle
. . . I don't see Léonard or Joseph . . . nobody says anything . . . it's funny to see them standing there so quiet . . . usually so talkative, always blatting in corners, in the office, at the table, or out of doors . . . I'd never seen them so absolutely frozen and discreet . . . here's Nicholas, the Russian giant . . . he's not vomiting any more, they've got him on his feet, four men are holding him, not too many . . . he's built like an ox . . . they sit him down on the leaves . . . he's punch-drunk, slaphappy, dead to the world . . . the beaver asks him a question . . . in Russian . . . short and snappy! . . . no answer . . . I wonder what he's had to drink . . . or eat . . . why don't they pump his stomach? . . . I'm not going to suggest it . . . ah, the one-armed sergeant! . . . and the head cook from the
Tanzhalle!
 . . . and plenty more! Russian prisoners and Germans . . . the beaver wants everybody there . . . he must have more questions . . . he lights a tiny little cigar . . . a chawed butt . . . he takes a whole pile of them out of his pocket, three handfuls of chawed butts, and puts them back . . . I could offer him something better, beautiful brand-new ones . . . we'll see . . . he's certainly a rough customer! . . . but is he mean? I don't know yet . . . A Nazi? . . . he's got the swastika armband, but that doesn't prove anything . . . I'll find out . . . he wants us all in a circle around the pool . . . anybody that can't stand can sit or lie down . . . as long as they're all present! . . . Nicholas is out flat, he just slumped . . . asleep, I think . . . his breathing sounds all right. . . most of the others are on their feet, bunched up around the pool . . . they don't look happy, not a peep out of them . . . Inge von Leiden isn't talking either, or Marie-Thérèse, who's right near her . . . the beaver's going to say something . . . he spits out his cigar butt and clears bis throat . . . here it comes . . . he speaks very slowly and clearly . . . so everything he says can be translated as he goes along . . . and each time he turns to us . . . the French contingent . . . "you understand?
ja! ja!"
. . . it's eight o'clock in the morning, I can see the clock over the thatched roofs . . . it's not very light yet . . .

"All of you here . . . do you know anything? . . . did you see or hear anything?"

Nobody answers . . . he points a finger at Inge von Leiden . . .

"Nein!"

She was at the
Tanzhalle
. . . "and you?" . . . he's talking to us . . .

"Nein!"

We were at the show too . . .

"Und der?"

Deris Nicholas, he's sleeping on a pile of leaves, he can't answer . . .

"Später! later!"

Ah, Kracht! . . . he calls him over! . . . he gives him an order . . . I understand . . . something about coffins . . .
särge
. . . Kracht had thought of it already . . . the coffins are ready . . . the beaver wants to see them . . . one word, and here they are! . . . three hefty coffins . . . red pine . . . the stiffs can be put away . . . the beaver wants it done immediately . . . more work for the
bibelforschers!
. . . present! . . . the cripples body doesn't want to go in . . . his head is twisted, kind of wrong side forward . . . from his struggles in the pit, or maybe the
bibelforschers
did it pulling him out . . . ah, they've made it! . . . the lids! . . . Leonard? . . . Joseph? . . . Kracht asks me . . . have I seen them? . . . no! . . . neither of them! . . .

"Tomorrow morning at six!"

The beaver announces . . . more inquest? . . . no! . . . the "provisional" burial! . . . they'll be buried permanently in two months after the autopsy! they've got the equipment in Berlin, but right now it's all somewhere else . . . moved . . . their Institutes and their morgue . . . somewhere near Bremen, it seems . . . anyway, these three will get a "provisional" burial . . . we know the little graveyard . . . right after the
"volksschule"
school . . . a sandy slope . . . two three hundred yards from here . . . before the birch woods . . .

"Jawohl!
. . . at the peristyle!"

And I add . . .

"At five-thirty!"

Pretty quick, this inquest! . . . rushed, I would say . . . this beaver must have a reason . . . maybe well find out later . . . five-thirty! I see we won't be sleeping much . . . but sleep is no problem . . . Le Vigs half-asleep right now . . . kind of fuzzy and absent . . . I look at him . . . he's squinting again! the second I look at him he starts yelling! . . . in German! . . .

"Leute! leute! . . . ich bin der mörder! . . . ich! ich!"

He beats his breast . . . he denounces himself!

"Me! me! the murderer!"

"Shut up, you sap! you were with usl"

Everybody'd seen him with us! lucidly! between Kracht and Inge!.. .fine kettle of fish all the same! . . . the beaver wants to know all about it. . . I'll explain . . . Kracht does the explaining . . .

"Nichts! . . . nichts!
. . .
schauspieler! nervös!
actor! hysterical!"

"He's an actor?"

"Die bühne! die bühne gesehen!"

I'm trying to explain that the stage upset him . . . seeing a stage and not being on it! . . . the long and short of it! a fit of jealousy! the magistrate answers . . .

"Ach! . . . ach!"

The people who were leaving all come back . . . they hear him yelling:
ich! ich!
. . . me . . .
mörder!
but they don't believe it, they're laughing . . . they all know . . . even the Russians and the housewives . . . they were all at the
Tanzhalle!
. . . that this
franzose
is completely bats!
"schauspielert verrückt!"
that's what he is! . . .
"überspannt!
. . . overwrought!" . . . they know him, they know! I see a movement of sympathy . . . not exactly pleasant, but definitely sympathy . . . the first we'd seen in Zornhof . . . the bearded
Untersuchungsrichter
goes off to one side, in the mud . . . he stands there watching us . . . Le Vig has stopped yelling, he's got his "man-from-no-where" expression back . . . and his squint . . .

"Sie nehmen ihn mit?"

He shouts at me . . .

"Ja! ja! ja!"

Very emphatic . . . of course I'll take him with me!

"Sie sind verantwortlich?"

Naturally I'm responsible!

"Sicher! sicher!"

Marie-Thérèse comes to my help, she's afraid I don't understand . . .

"He asks me if you'll take him with you."

"Oh yes, yes, Mademoiselle! . . . definitely! . . . many thanks! and I'm responsible! in fact I'm responsible for everything!''