Night Games: And Other Stories and Novellas (14 page)

The bill still lay on the plate with the half-consumed piece of cake, just where it had fallen a moment ago out of his hand, and it didn't even
look markedly crumpled anymore. It had begun to unroll-it wouldn't be
very long until it was smooth again, as smooth as any piece of pure
paper, and no one would be able to tell that it was nothing more than
what one used to call the wages of sin-shame money. Well, in any case,
it now belonged to him, to his estate, so to speak. A bitter smile played on
his lips. He could leave it to anyone he wished-and he would leave it to
the one who had a right to it. That was Bogner, more than any other! Involuntarily he burst into laughter. Excellent! Yes, he would take care of
that matter, in any case! He hoped Bogner had not killed himself already.
The miracle had actually happened for him! All he had to do was wait
for it.

But where was Joseph? He knew that there was a maneuver scheduled today. Willi was supposed to have been ready precisely at three
o'clock in the morning, and it was already half past four. By now the regiment was long gone. He hadn't heard a thing; he had slept so deeply. He
opened the door to the anteroom. There he sat, the orderly, on a stool next
to the little iron stove, and immediately stood at attention. "I beg to report, sir, that I have reported the lieutenant ill."

"Ill? Who told you to do that? ... Oh, yes...." Leopoldine-! She
might just as well have given the order to report him dead-that would
have been simpler. "Very well. Make me a cup of coffee," he said, and
closed the door.

Where could that calling card be? He searched-searched in all the
drawers, on the floor, in every corner-searched as though his own life
depended upon it. In vain! He couldn't find it. Well, it wasn't meant to
be. So Bogner was unlucky too; their fates were indeed inextricably intertwined. Then suddenly he saw something white gleam in the oven
niche. There was the card with his address on it: Piaristengasse 20. Quite
nearby. What if it had been farther? So he was lucky after all, this
Bogner. What if he hadn't been able to find the card-"

He took the bill, looked at it for a long time without really seeing it,
folded it, inserted it into a sheet of white paper, considered whether he
should write a few explanatory words, then shrugged his shoulders. "What for?" and he put only the address on the envelope: First Lieutenant Otto von Bogner. First Lieutenant!-yes-he was giving the man
his commission again, upon his own authority. Once an officer, always
an officer-no matter what one did-or one became an officer againwhen one had paid one's debts.

He called the orderly and gave him the letter to deliver. "See to it
that you go quickly."

"Do you wish an answer, Lieutenant?"

"No. But give it to him personally and-no answer. And whatever
happens, don't wake me when you get back. Let me sleep. Until I wake
by myself."

"Very good, sir!" He clicked his heels, turned around, and hurried
off. From the steps he could hear the key turning in the door behind him.

XV

Three hours later there was a ring at the hall door. Joseph, who had returned long ago and had fallen asleep, awoke with a start and opened it. It
was Bogner-the man to whom he had delivered the letter three hours
ago as ordered.

"Is the lieutenant at home?"

"I'm sorry, the lieutenant is still sleeping."

Bogner looked at his watch. Right after the accountants had examined his books and found them in order, he had taken an hour off in his
anxiety to thank his savior, and it was important to him not to be gone
any longer than he had to be. Impatiently he paced up and down in the
small anteroom. "Doesn't the lieutenant have any duties today?"

"The lieutenant is ill."

The door to the hall was still open, and suddenly regiment doctor
Tugut entered. "Is this where Lieutenant Kasda lives?"

"Yes, sir."

"May I speak with him?"

"Sir, I beg to report, the lieutenant is ill. He's sleeping now."

"Announce me to him, please. Regiment doctor Tugut."

"I beg to report that the lieutenant gave orders not to be awakened."

"It's urgent. Wake the lieutenant up. I'll be responsible."

While Joseph, after a slight, hardly noticeable hesitation, was
knocking on the door, Tugut threw a suspicious glance at the civilian
who was standing in the anteroom. Bogner introduced himself. The regiment doctor, who was not unfamiliar with the name of the officer who
had been dismissed under awkward circumstances, didn't let on that he
knew, and introduced himself in turn. They did not shake hands.

In Lieutenant Kasda's room everything remained quiet. Joseph
knocked more loudly, put his ear to the door, shrugged his shoulders, and
said, as if to calm his own fear, "The lieutenant always sleeps very
soundly."

Bogner and Tugut looked at one another, and a barrier fell between
them. Then the regiment doctor stepped up to the door and called out
Kasda's name. No answer. "Strange," muttered Tugut, wrinkling his
brow, and pushed the door handle down-in vain.

Joseph stood with pale face and wide eyes.

"Fetch the regiment locksmith, and be quick about it!" ordered
Tugut.

"Yes, sir!"

Bogner and Tugut were alone.

"Incomprehensible," said Bogner.

"You know something about it Herr-von Bogner?" asked Tugut.

"You mean about his gambling loss, doctor'?" And, as Tugut nodded
in answer, "Unfortunately I do."

"I wanted to see how the affair stood," began Tugut hesitatingly.
"Whether he was successful in getting the sum-do you know anything
about it. Herr von Bogner?"

"I know nothing," Bogner replied.

Again Tugut went over to the door, shook it, and called out Kasda's
name. No answer.

Bogner, from the window now, announced, "There is Joseph with
the locksmith."

"You were his comrade'?" asked Tugut.

Bogner, with a slight tightening of the corner of his mouth, answered, "I'm the one you were thinking of."

Tugut paid no attention to the remark. "Sometimes it happens that,
after great excitement," he began again-"I suspect that he didn't sleep
last night, either."

"Yesterday morning," said Bogner in a factual tone, "he certainly
hadn't yet gotten the money together."

Tugut looked at Bogner questioningly, as though he considered it
possible that Bogner was perhaps bringing a part of the money. As
though in answer, Bogner said, "Unfortunately, I didn't succeed eitherin getting the money."

Joseph appeared, accompanied by the locksmith, a well-nourished,
red-cheeked, very young man in the uniform of the regiment, carrying
the necessary tools. Tugut knocked violently on the door once more-a
last attempt. They all stood by for a few seconds, holding their breaths.
There was no sound.

"Very well, then," Tugut turned to the locksmith with a gesture of
command, and the latter set to work immediately. It didn't require much
effort. After a few seconds the door stood open.

Lieutenant Willi Kasda, in his overcoat, with his collar raised, was
leaning in the corner of the black leather sofa facing the window, his lids
half shut, his head on his breast, his right arm hanging limply over the
side of the sofa. The revolver was lying on the floor. From his temple a
narrow stream of dark red blood trickled over his cheek. disappearing between his neck and his coat collar. Even though they had all been prepared for the worst, they were nevertheless deeply shocked. The
regiment doctor was the first to step closer. He lifted the drooping arm,
let it go, and it immediately dropped limply over the side of the sofa as
before. Then Tugut, quite unnecessarily, unbuttoned Kasda's coat, under
which the rumpled nightshirt stood wide open. Bogner stooped to pick
up the revolver. "Stop," cried Tugut, his ear on the naked breast of the
dead man. "Everything must remain as it is!" Joseph and the locksmith
still stood motionless in the open door. The locksmith shrugged his
shoulders and threw a half-embarrassed, half-fearful glance at Joseph, as
though he felt some responsibility for the frightful sight that was hidden
behind the door he had sprung open.

Steps approached from below, at first slowly then ever more rapidly, until they ceased. Bogner's glance turned to the door. An elderly
man appeared in the opened door, dressed in a light, somewhat worn
summer suit, with something of the attitude of a soured actor, and looked
uncertainly around the room.

"Herr Wilram," exclaimed Bogner. "His uncle!" he whispered to
the regiment doctor, who was just straightening up from his examination
of the body.

But Robert Wilram did not immediately grasp what had happened.
He saw his nephew leaning in the corner of the sofa with his limp arm
hanging down, and wanted to approach him-no doubt he suspected that
something terrible had happened but refused to believe it. The regiment
doctor held him back, and laid his hand on his arm: "Unfortunately, a terrible accident has happened. But there is nothing that can be done now."
And as the other stared at him uncomprehendingly, he added, "I'm the
regiment doctor, Dr. Tugut. Death must have occurred several hours ago."

Robert Wilram-and his behavior struck everyone as extremely peculiar-suddenly pulled an envelope from his breast pocket with his
right hand and waved it in the air. "But I've brought it, Willi!" he cried.
And, as though he really believed he could thus bring him back to life, he
shouted, "Here's the money, Willi! She gave it to me this morning. The
whole eleven thousand, Willi! Here it is!" And he turned around to the
others as though imploring them to bear witness. "That's the entire
amount, gentlemen! Eleven thousand gulden!"-as though, now that the
money was here, they should at least make some effort to revive the dead
man.

"It's too late, unfortunately," said the regiment doctor. He turned to
Bogner, "I'm going to make the report." Then he commanded, "The
body is to remain in the position that it was found." And glancing at the
orderly, he added severely, "You'll be responsible that everything remains as it is." And before he left, he turned around again and shook
hands with Bogner.

Bogner wondered-so where did he get the thousand-for me? His
glance now fell on the table that had been moved away from the sofa. He
noticed the plates, the glasses, the empty bottle. Two glasses . . . ?! Did
he bring in a woman for his last night'?

Joseph crossed over to the sofa to the side of his dead master. He
stood stiffly erect, like a guard. Nevertheless he did not attempt to interfere as Robert Wilram suddenly went up to the the dead man with raised,
imploring hands, in one of which he still held the envelope with the
money. "Willi!" he pleaded. He shook his head in despair. Then he sank
to his knees in front of his dead nephew, and was now so near him that he
became aware of a strangely familiar perfume wafting toward him from
the naked breast and the rumpled nightshirt. He inhaled it deeply and
looked up into the dead man's eyes, as though he were tempted to ask
him a question.

The regular, rhythmic marching beat of the returning regiment
echoed from the courtyard below. Bogner was anxious to leave before
some of his former comrades came into the room, as could be expected.
In any case, his presence here was superfluous. He cast a farewell glance
at the body, which was still reclining motionless in the corner of the sofa,
and, followed by the locksmith, hurried down the steps. He waited in the
entrance to the gate until the regiment had passed, and then crept away,
pressing close to the wall.

Robert Wilram, still on his knees in front of his dead nephew,
looked around the room. Only now did he notice the table with the remains of the meal, the plates, the bottles, and the glasses. On the bottom
of one of them there was still a moist golden yellow shimmer. He asked
the orderly, "Did the lieutenant have a visitor here last night?"

There were steps outside. A babble of voices. Robert Wilram stood
up.

"Yes," answered Joseph, still standing erect, like a guard. "Until
late into the night-a gentleman, a comrade."

And the desperate suspicion that had come fleetingly into the old
man's head vanished into nothingness.

The voices, the steps came nearer.

Joseph stood more stiffly erect than before. The committee entered
the room.