Oh, yes, said Semeonov. The poor.
For some reason Dmitri began to feel depressed.
And church, said Olga Feodorovna. She used to go to church.
But stopped, said Semeonov.
Stopped?
A girlish whim! said Olga Feodorovna.
When was this?
About three months ago, said Semeonov.
I pleaded with her, said Olga Feodorovna. I asked her to think how it would look.
But she wouldnt be persuaded?
Well, said Olga Feodorovna, you know girls.
Any reason?
Doubts, said Semeonov.
Doubts? What sort of doubts? Religious ones?
The Semeonovs wouldnt say that.
She was having a difficult time, said Olga Feodorovna. You know; girls.
Dmitri hadnt the faintest idea what she was talking about.
Moody, said Semeonov.
Well, yes, Olga Feodorovna had to admit, you could say that. A passing phase, though. And didnt Dmitri Alexandrovich think that made young women more interesting?
Oh, yes, Dmitri was sure of that.
I knew you would understand, said Olga Feodorovna softly.
It was a pity Dmitri Alexandrovich had never met her.
Dmitri was sure about that, too. In fact, he couldnt think how it was that he had come to miss her.
Well, she didnt get about much, said Olga Feodorovna. I tried to encourage her to, but she preferred to stay at home.
Reading, supplemented Semeonov.
You see! said Olga Feodorovna, making what had once been a pretty moue. Serious!
Not many friends, then?
Only a few, Olga Feodorovna conceded. In the best families, of course.
Men friends?
Oh, Dmitri Alexandrovich! Were not like St Petersburg, you know!
Nevertheless
Frankly, said Semeonov, theres no one here youd encourage her to meet.
Except yourself, Dmitri Alexandrovich, said Olga Feodorovna, smiling.
When you get on a bit, said Semeonov. In your career, I mean.
But had there been anyone particular? A tendresse, perhaps?
Oh, Dmitri Alexandrovich! said Olga Feodorovna roguishly.
No, said Semeonov shortly.
Servants came and cleared the dishes away. Over the coffee, Dmitri said:
And what exactly was Anna Semeonova doing in the Court House yesterday?
A fad! said Semeonov, frowning.
A whim! said Olga Feodorovna.
But what ?
She wanted to see a court in action, said Semeonov. Well, I ask you!
Such a serious girl! said Olga Feodorovna.
Its all these books shes been reading. Im all for giving girls education, said Semeonov, but you can go too far.
I told her we could receive the lawyers socially, said Olga Feodorovna. Only that wasnt what she wanted.
She wanted to go and see, said Semeonov. I fixed it up with Smirnov. I didnt want anything too well, you know what I mean. Shes only a young girl.
Smirnov? said Dmitri. That would be contracts, then.
I thought that was safest. Nothing too juicy. Smirnov said that it would be so boring shed never want to go again.
I see. So there was nothing specific she particularly wanted to see, it was just the working of the courts in general?
She wanted to see the working of justice, she said.
In that case, thought Dmitri, why go to the Law Courts?
2
Dmitri considered the fact that she was a serious girl a major indictment. He knew what serious girls were like. Especially in Kursk.
Besides, with her parents permission, hed taken a look in her room and seen the books: heavy, figure-filled stuff and all in German. Dmitri felt guilty about German. Germany was where a lot of the most advanced social thinking was going on and as a committed Westernizer, he should have been keeping himself au courant. He found the German language, however or, at least, the German language as written by heavy German academics hard going. So, apparently, had Anna Semeonova. She had persevered, nonetheless. That was another thing that Dmitri held against her.
The books gave a clue as to the direction of her seriousness. She was not serious about novels, she was not serious about music, she was not serious about ballet. What she was serious about was society. Unless Dmitri was much mistaken, the poor girl had had a fit of politics coming on.
This threw a different light on things. It knocked on the head, for a start, Dmitris favourite theory at the moment (Dmitri had a lot of theories, it was relating them to facts that was the problem), namely, that Anna Semeonova had gone off with a boyfriend. Seriousness and sexuality were, in Dmitris view, incompatible. Unless the thought made him stop in his tracks as he trudged back to the Court House through the remnants of snow unless having a boyfriend was itself a political act!
It might be. With parents like the Semeonovs, any daughter could be excused for turning to rebellion; and what better form could rebellion take than running off with an unsuitable boyfriend? It was a sort of inverse of the mothers position. Psychologically, thought Dmitri, this sounded right; or if not right, at least interesting.
He decided he would pursue the matter with Novikov when he got back to the Court House. He was already sure that the Chief of Polices searching would not uncover a body. Dmitri was an optimistic fellow at heart and found it hard to believe, in general, that anyone was dead.
And so it turned out, at least in so far as all the searching that morning, in the park, in the grounds, in the back yard and, again, in the building itself, had failed to produce a body.
Of course you wont find a body, said Dmitri confidently, because the body walked out.
Now, look here, Dmitri Alexandrovich began the caretaker.
They were sitting in his room drinking tea. The room was right next to the entrance and he was always in it, always drinking tea, as he pointed out.
No one gets in or out without me seeing them. What do you think Im here for?
Dmitri had often wondered but wisely refrained from the comment.
Your attention might have been distracted, said Novikov.
In that case Peter Profimovich would have noticed. Wouldnt you, Peter Profimovich? said the caretaker, turning to his assistant.
Peter Profimovich grunted.
There you are! said the caretaker. One of us always keeps an eye on the door.
Peter Profimovich grunted twice.
And we would certainly have seen anyone like Anna Semeonova, translated the caretaker, because girls like Anna Semeonova dont go in or out of this door very often.
It was a cold day, said Dmitri. She might have been well wrapped up.
Dmitri Alexandrovich! said the caretaker, shaking his head pityingly. Do you think we wouldnt have seen a figure like that? No matter how it was wrapped up?
Peter Profimovich grunted three times.
In any case, said the caretaker, there wasnt much on yesterday morning and we remember everyone who went through. There was young Nikita, going out to see that girl of his we always know its getting on towards lunchtime when we see her appear at the gate of the park. There was Serafim Serafimovich going out for his usual drink that was about eleven oclock. There were a couple of clerks going to fetch things for Peter Ivanovich. There was a woman
In any case, said the caretaker, there wasnt much on yesterday morning and we remember everyone who went through. There was young Nikita, going out to see that girl of his we always know its getting on towards lunchtime when we see her appear at the gate of the park. There was Serafim Serafimovich going out for his usual drink that was about eleven oclock. There were a couple of clerks going to fetch things for Peter Ivanovich. There was a woman
Ah! said Dmitri and Novikov. A woman!
Who wasnt a bit like Anna Semeonova.
Disguise? hinted Dmitri.
Shed have to disguise her height as well, said the caretaker caustically. She was about half the height of Anna Semeonova. And her hair. Anna Semeonova is a true blonde, a real Russian, you might say, whereas this girls hair was as dark as a Tatars. Which is not surprising, said the caretaker, since thats what she was.
Peter Profimovich laughed.
Dmitri refused to be put off.
You saw her face?
We certainly did. Both of us. Thats right, isnt it? he appealed.
Peter Profimovich grunted.
Cheekbones and all, said the caretaker. If she was Anna Semeonova then Im Tsar of Russia!
You watch out! said Novikov. We dont want that kind of talk!
Saving His Reverence! added the caretaker, crossing himself automatically.
Anyone else? demanded Dmitri.
Ive checked them all, said Novikov seriously.
She must have gone out the back, then, said Dmitri.
Dmitri Alexandrovich! The caretaker bent over, convulsed. Forgive me, Dmitri Alexandrovich, but you dont know what youre saying! Theres mud a foot deep
I saw it! snapped Dmitri.
Theres guards on the gate, theres soldiers everywhere. And then there are all those brutes! A respectable girl like Anna Semeonova? Forgive me, sir, youve got to be joking!
She couldnt have gone through the gate, said Novikov positively. The guards would have seen her.
And dont tell me they wouldnt have remembered! said the caretaker, with a knowing wink at Peter Profimovich.
Shut up! said Dmitri. Well, I dont know how she did it, he said to Novikov, but Im sure thats what she did. Because what else could have happened?
Its true, admitted Novikov, shes got to be either here or not here.
Shes somewhere else, said Dmitri. And almost certainly with someone else. Which brings us to the question of friends. Ive been talking to her parents and got a list.
He showed it to Novikov.
Youre the Chief of Police. Where would you suggest I made a start? Im looking especially for a political connection.
Political? said Novikov doubtfully. He looked at the list. I dont think youll find that any of these are what you might call political. Theyre all quite respectable.
And that was basically the problem with Larissa Philipovna. She would have been so much happier talking about ponies than about politics. She seemed to Dmitri to be unbelievably young. How she could be an intimate of someone as poised and elegant as Anna Semeonova (who was improving all the time in his recollection), Dmitri could not think. If the image that Anna Semeonova had left with him was that of an ice-cool nordic heroine, the picture that her friend presented was that of a puppy in pigtails.
She received him, perched anxiously on the edge of her chair, in what her mother irritatingly referred to as the salon. Oh, yes, (wide-eyed) she was Anna Semeonovas friend, her very closest friend. They saw each other all the time. They visited each others houses almost every other day. Or used to. They wrote verses in each others albums. Would Dmitri Alexandrovich care to ?
Dmitri winced and handed the book back.
Used to?
Well, yes. Just the last week or two, or perhaps it wasnt even weeks but months, they hadnt seen quite as much of each other. Anna Semeonova was studying.
Studying? What?
Books. Larissa Philipovna lowered her voice. This was serious; indeed, possibly more than serious: grave. Terribly difficult ones. She had shown some to her once and Larissa Philipovna had not been able to understand a word. Even Anna Semeonova herself had found them difficult. She had said so.
Then why had she taken to reading them?
Oh, it was because she was so very clever. She wanted to know about things. And why things were the way they were.
Politics?
Politics! Larissa Philipovna was aghast. No, no, definitely not! Anna Semeonova wasnt that kind of girl, not that kind of girl at all! Larissa Philipovna was sure
All right, all right, said Dmitri. I just wondered. Now, tell me, was there anyone she liked to talk to about all the reading? Any new friends, perhaps?
Well, there was that new doctor, Vera Samsonova
Ah, Vera Samsonova? said Dmitri, pricking up his ears.
She had gone to her once to ask her about something in a book she had been reading.
Something medical?
It was to do with numbers, said Larissa Philipovna hesitantly.
Ah!
The Health Question? Larissa Philipovna put forward, emboldened.
I see. And Anna Semeonova called on her, did she?
Yes. And she was very nice. She told her everything she wanted to know and a lot more besides. And she said she could come again if she wanted. And I think she did go again. Only
Only what?
Only I dont think that makes Vera Samsonova a friend, does it, Dmitri Alexandrovich? Not a real friend, the way Anna and I are friends? I mean, shes so much older. She couldnt be, could she?
Blue eyes looked up trustingly at Dmitri.
Not a real friend, said Dmitri, and immediately kicked himself. Why had he let her wheedle that out of him?
I know, breathed Larissa Philipovna.
There are different kinds of friendship, he said sternly.
Oh, yes! said Larissa Philipovna.
This examination was not going the way he had intended.
Tell me about her friends, he said firmly. Did she have a boyfriend, for instance?
Oh, Dmitri Alexandrovich! she cried, and collapsed in a fit of giggles.
The door at the end of the room opened slightly. It was that bitch of a mother, he was sure.
Nettled, he moved closer to Larissa Philipovna. She was not altogether unattractive. Or, at least, she wouldnt be in about ten years time. Physically, that was. Mentally, of course
Dmitri Alexandrovich!
Would you care for some tea, Dmitri Alexandrovich? said the bitch of a mother, coming definitely into the room.
Vera Samsonova, tracked down at last to the small room she used as a dispensary, regarded him unwelcomingly.
Yes?
Dmitri declared himself.
Im sorry I missed you last night, he said.
You didnt miss me. I didnt go.
I thought that Sonya
She asked me. I wasnt free.
Oh.
In any case, I probably wouldnt have gone.
Oh, thats a pity. Why not, may I ask?
I think such gatherings are a bit beside the point, said Vera Samsonova. Dont you?