A Razor Wrapped in Silk (17 page)

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Authors: R. N. Morris

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BOOK: A Razor Wrapped in Silk
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‘Yes.’

‘To her dashing officer of the Guards. Captain Mizinchikov.’

‘I think you are mistaken, Aglaia Filippovna.’

Dr Müller shook his head warningly at Porfiry.

‘It is all arranged. He has no money but she loves him. Love will find a way. I am happy for her.’ Still she kept up the twisting motion with her hands. Then suddenly they fell lifelessly apart. The smile froze on her lips and slackened into a curve of enervated distaste.

‘Aglaia Filippovna?’

They got no more out of her that day.

*

Prince Sergei was waiting for them in the corridor outside Aglaia’s room. Or at least he appeared to have been waiting. The possibility came readily to Porfiry’s mind that he had been eavesdropping. He had the skulking disposition of an eavesdropper.

‘How is she?’

‘She remembers nothing,’ said Porfiry. His face was grave, even forbidding. A single blink sealed his thoughts as he scrutinised the prince. ‘She believes her sister is still alive.’

‘W-would that she were!’ His flitting gaze chased along the moulded curlicues of the wall, before coming back to settle on Porfiry. ‘Aglaia Filippovna will have to be told.’

‘Dr Müller advises against it, for now at least. Her constitution is very delicate. She has been able to take in very little nourishment between her bouts of unconsciousness. And her epilepsy exacts a terrible toll on her.’

‘But she c-cannot live out a
lie
!’ There was an unexpected force to his protest. ‘How are we to maintain such a pretence? What if she asks to see Yelena? What if she insists?’

‘It will not be easy. But neither will it be indefinitely. Dr Müller will notify us when he considers that she has regained strength sufficiently to be told the news. In the meantime, she needs to rest. Is it convenient for her to stay here at the palace?’

‘Of c-course. We would not have her taken anywhere else. We will ensure she is well c-c-cared for.’

‘That is very … kind of you.’

‘It is no more or less than our c-Christian duty. Besides, she
is my sister-in-law. That is to say, she would have been, if Yelena and I had married.’

Porfiry thought of the words Yelena had written to Captain Mizinchikov.

I do not love Naryskin. The idea of loving Naryskin is absurd.
Naryskin is absurd
.

‘She asked you to kill her, but you refused. Instead you asked her to marry you.’

‘Yes.’

‘And she accepted your proposal, willingly, with a free heart?’

‘Of c-c-course!’

‘But still she prevailed upon Captain Mizinchikov to kill her?’

‘Either that or he k-killed her out of jealousy. She had rejected him in my favour.’

‘She rejected him as a husband but chose him as a murderer. Who should be jealous of whom, I wonder?’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘She chose
him
to carry out this momentous deed!’

‘But she had asked me to do the same. I had no c-cause for jealousy on that account, although I must say, I find your … argument c-c-convoluted and repugnant.’

‘I am sorry if this line of enquiry offends you. However, this is an unusual situation, to say the least. A murder victim who solicits her own murder. Did she ask any other men to kill her, do you know?’

‘You really are an outrageous individual.’

‘Perhaps she was as promiscuous in her desire to die as she seems to have been in her desire for physical intimacy.’

For a moment it seemed that Prince Sergei would strike Porfiry. In the end he let out a fragmented groan of denial.

‘The signal honour that she conferred upon you, in asking you to kill her, was surely debased in your eyes by the fact that she made the same request of Mizinchikov.’

‘Honour? What k-k-kind of honour is it to be c-called upon to k-k-kill the woman one loves?’

‘Let us say privilege, then. A murder committed under such circumstances would be no common murder. It would itself be a declaration of love. She had set the ultimate test. Perhaps one could say that you were not up to it and Captain Mizinchikov was.’

‘If so, I am glad that I failed her in that.’

‘Naturally.’

‘I do not see what you aim to achieve with this unpleasant c-c-questioning. Are you suggesting that I am in some way involved in Yelena’s death?’

‘Not at all. I am merely trying to understand the situation fully. Do you believe that Captain Mizinchikov loved Yelena?’

‘She certainly did not love him.’

‘That is not what I asked. But even so, how do you know?’

‘She … told me so.’

‘I see. In a letter, by any chance?’

Prince Sergei flushed but did not answer.

‘But he loved her? May we establish that?’ insisted Porfiry.

‘In his own c-crude and brutish way, yes.’

‘If so, and if he did kill her at her request, how could he bear to go on living? Surely the only way a man, a passionate man – am I to take it that is what you mean by crude and brutish? – the only way he could bring himself to c-c-contemplate such a deed was if he had also resolved upon his own destruction, or should I say self-destruction?’

‘Do you mock me, sir?’

‘Mock you?’

‘You affected to stammer.’

‘I assure you I had no intention of … you must forgive me. If it’s true, I am mortified.’

‘Your c-c-colleague will c-confirm what I say.’

Porfiry turned to Virginsky in desperate appeal. ‘You did
seem
to stumble over a consonant, Porfiry Petrovich.’ The younger magistrate winced apologetically but could not disguise his enjoyment of Porfiry’s discomfiture.

‘If indeed that is true, then believe me that it was out of sympathy and not a desire to mock. It was an unconscious slip. The mind plays tricks on us. My mind is especially prone to do so. I meant nothing by it at all. Except …’

‘Except what?’ demanded Prince Sergei.

‘Except perhaps, in my mind, I was merely registering the particular consonant that most commonly causes you difficulty. My mouth, perhaps, betrayed my thoughts. There is no more significance to it than that.’

‘But why think it in the first place?’

‘One cannot always curb the direction one’s thoughts take. I will also say in my defence that I was conscious of a desire to smoke. Distracted by the need and yet feeling myself unable, here in the palace … Well, when I am not able to smoke I find that I have a tendency to do absurd things. I am a deeply absurd person. Without the mitigating influence of tobacco I would be even more absurd.’

‘Why do you say that? Why
absurd
?’

‘If I have unwittingly given offence again, I apologise. I couldn’t have known. How could I have known?’

‘How c-could you have known what?’

‘That she mocked you. Your stutter. That she called you absurd.’

‘Why do you persecute me like this? I am not her k-killer. Mizinchikov is her k-k-killer.’

Porfiry hesitated a moment before replying: ‘Ah yes. Captain Mizinchikov. Is it possible, do you think, that he might have refused to kill her in the same way that you did? That such a refusal also prompted from him a proposal of marriage? Perhaps he too hoped to save her from herself by marrying her.’

‘Now you accuse me of a want of originality!’

‘And so, because he would not kill her willingly, perhaps she saw the need to goad him into killing her. Could it be that she saw her engagement to you in that light?’

‘Have you any c-c-conception how offensive that insinuation is? That she would c-consent to be my wife merely to provoke another man into k-k-killing her!’

‘Perhaps she was playing you and Captain Mizinchikov off against each other. Ultimately, we may suppose that she did not care who killed her. In the same way that she did not care whom she married.’

‘How do you dare to presume such things?’

‘It is my unfortunate duty to presume far worse.’

‘Your duty, sir, is to find Mizinchikov and charge him with the murder of Yelena Filippovna. He is of c-c-course a deserter from his regiment now. That is enough, surely, to c-c-confirm his guilt.’

‘Confirm? I don’t know about that. It certainly would be better for Captain Mizinchikov if he came forward to clear his name. But then again, perhaps he is unable to come forward. If he is the romantic gentleman I take him to be, it is not out of the question that he has taken his own life by now. He may not
have done it immediately after killing Yelena. Perhaps he was overwhelmed by panic, and fled. Only later did he realise the full enormity of his crime. That is to say, the significance of the crime to him. Life, his life, no longer contained the woman he loved, even as an object of his hatred. How could he endure that?’

‘I c-c-cannot answer for c-Captain Mizinchikov. You had better find him and ask him yourself,’ said Prince Sergei pointedly.

15

The injured detective

‘What are you doing, Porfiry Petrovich?’

‘I’m carrying the samovar in.’

‘Yes, I see that you are doing that,’ said Nikodim Fomich. The Chief Superintendent’s astonishment had turned to bewilderment. ‘I only wonder
why
you are doing it.’

‘Because there is no one else to carry it in for me.’ Porfiry placed the steaming samovar down heavily on his desk. It rattled dangerously and seemed about to topple. Porfiry instinctively reached out a hand and carelessly touched the hot metal urn. He immediately gave a sharp cry of pain.

‘What on earth is the matter now?’

Porfiry shook the damaged hand, then held it tightly at the wrist, as if he could seal off the pain. ‘I burnt it on the samovar.’

‘Here, let me see.’ Nikodim Fomich, although several years younger than Porfiry, automatically lapsed into a fatherly role towards him. ‘My wife always puts grated carrot on burns.’

‘Nonsense.’

‘At the very least, some cucumber juice will take out the heat.’

‘It’s nothing, Nikodim Fomich. And kindly remember I am not one of your children.’ Porfiry snatched his hand away.

‘You need someone to look after you, Porfiry Petrovich. You remember Varvara Romanovna?’

‘Varvara Romanovna?’

‘Come now, Porfiry, she was your bridge partner at the dacha this summer. She was very taken with you, as well you know.’

‘The corpulent widow?’

‘My goodness, Porfiry Petrovich, have you looked at yourself recently?’

Porfiry screwed his nose up over his burn. ‘I try to avoid it.’

‘I can understand why. However, as your friend, I am obliged to tell you that you are past your prime.’

‘Thank you, friend.’

‘The days of your bagging a young, beautiful bride are sadly long gone.’

‘Please be assured, Nikodim Fomich, I entertain no such hopes.’

‘Just as well.’

‘But just because I am not capable of bagging – as you so delicately put it – a young, beautiful bride, am I therefore obliged to settle for an old, ugly one?’

‘Varvara Romanovna is not ugly!’

‘No. That was unkind of me. And her charms, for the right man, will prove irresistible. However, I fear I am not that man. The inclinations of the heart cannot be forced, Nikodim Fomich. Now, was there some official purpose to your visit? Or are you here solely in the role of matchmaker?’

‘Have you made any progress in the case of the murdered society belle?’

‘Really, Nikodim Fomich!
The murdered society belle?
You have been reading too many newspaper accounts.’

‘Indeed so. The newspapers are full of it. And frankly, they are portraying us as fools.’

‘Until we are able to talk to the missing captain, there is little hope of making progress in the case.’

‘Ah yes, the missing captain.’

‘We have contacted colleagues in Moscow and elsewhere, requesting that they interview and monitor a number of Captain Mizinchikov’s relatives. We are especially interested in one Alexei Ivanovich Zahlebinin, a cousin of Mizinchikov’s with whom he is on particularly friendly terms. This Zahlebinin denies having seen him so far and has given assurances that he will report his cousin’s appearance, should it occur. I trust the police surveillance of Mizinchikov’s St Petersburg associates continues?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘It would greatly assist us also if we were able to take a meaningful statement from Aglaia Filippovna.’

‘Do you think she witnessed her sister’s murder?’

‘That would certainly account for the extremity of her reaction to it.’

‘Am I to take it that you regard her reaction as excessive, Porfiry Petrovich?’

‘Who can say? Grief takes many forms. And it was certainly an excessive crime.’

‘We should not be surprised that it has wrought such destruction on a delicate feminine constitution.’

Porfiry looked at his friend sharply. ‘Are you implying that her constitution must necessarily be delicate because it is feminine? Feminine
ergo
delicate?’

Nikodim Fomich became momentarily flustered. ‘I, well … is that not the case, Porfiry Petrovich? I mean, are women no longer delicate? Is that then the resolution of the woman question?’

‘Surely you and I have encountered, in the pursuit of our duties, women whose constitutions, and indeed sensibilities, are very far from delicate.’

‘But look at the severity of Aglaia Filippovna’s collapse … Surely that is in itself a cogent argument for the delicacy of her constitution.’

‘I believe that is known in logic as a circular argument.’

‘I don’t know anything about that. At any rate, news has reached me of a communiqué from the very highest quarters. As a result of which, the Prefect of Police is keenly desirous that progress should be made. To put it bluntly, Porfiry Petrovich, he is looking for an arrest.’


Gr-ahh!
I am afraid my hand is beginning to throb most vehemently. I believe I have some dandelion lotion in my apartment. You will forgive me, Nikodim Fomich, while I administer to my injury.’

‘Are you by any chance running away from this conversation, Porfiry Petrovich? I shall await your return.’

*

When Porfiry returned to his chambers, holding aloft an untidily bandaged hand, he found that Nikodim Fomich had been joined by the police clerk Zamyotov.

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