Farewell Waltz

them. For a long time she was unable to get authorization to study, even though she’s a gifted girl. It’s vile to persecute children because of their parents. Would you want me, too, to hate her because of her father? I was sorry for her. I was sorry for her because her father had been executed, and I was sorry for her because her father had sent a friend to his death.”
Just then the telephone rang. Skreta picked up the receiver and listened for a moment. His face darkened, and he said: “I’m busy here right now. Do you really need me?” After a pause he said: “All right. Okay. I’m coming.” He hung up and cursed.
“If you’ve got to go, don’t bother about me, I have to leave anyway,” said Jakub, rising from his chair.
“No, you’re not leaving! We haven’t discussed anything yet. And there’s something we have to discuss today, right? They made me lose the thread. It was about something important. I’ve been thinking about it since I woke up. Do you remember what it might be about?”
“No,” said Jakub.
“Good God, and now I have to run to the thermal building …”
“It’s better to say goodbye like this. In the midst of a conversation,” said Jakub, and he pressed his friend’s hand.
17
Ruzena’s lifeless body was lying in a small room reserved for physicians on night duty. Several people were bustling around the room, and a police inspector was there and had already interrogated Frantisek and written down his statement. Frantisek once more expressed his desire to be arrested.
“Did you give her the tablet, yes or no?” asked the inspector.
“No!”
“Then stop saying you killed her.”
“She always told me she was going to kill herself,” said Frantisek.
“Did she tell you why she was going to kill herself?”
“She said she was going to kill herself if I kept spoiling her life. She said she didn’t want a child. She’d rather kill herself than have a child!”
Dr. Skreta entered the room. He gave the inspector a friendly wave and went over to the deceased; he lifted her eyelid to examine the color of the conjunctiva.
“Doctor, were you this nurse’s supervisor?” asked the inspector.
“Yes.”
“Do you think she might have used a poison available in your practice?”
Skreta turned once more to Ruzena’s body to examine the particulars of her death. Then he said: “It doesn’t look to me like a drug or substance she could have gotten in our offices. It was probably an alkaloid. The autopsy will tell us which one.”
“But where did she get it?”
“It’s hard to say.”
“At the moment, it’s all very mysterious,” said the inspector. “The motive too. This young man has just revealed that she was expecting a child by him and she wanted to have an abortion.”
“That character was forcing her to do it,” Frantisek shouted.
“What character?” asked the inspector.
“The trumpeter. He wanted to take her away from me and make her get rid of my child! I followed them! He was with her at the Abortion Committee.”
“I can confirm that,” said Dr. Skreta. “It’s true that this morning we took up her request for an abortion.”
“And the trumpeter was with her?” asked the inspector.
“Yes,” said Skreta. “Ruzena declared that he was the child’s father.”
“It’s a lie! The child’s mine!” Frantisek shouted.
“Nobody doubts that,” said Dr. Skreta, “but Ruzena had to declare a married man as the father so the committee would authorize termination of the pregnancy.”
“So you knew it was a lie!” Frantisek shouted at Dr. Skreta.
“According to the law, we have to take the woman’s word. Once Ruzena told us she was pregnant by Mister Klima and he confirmed her declaration, none of us had the right to assert the contrary.”
“But you didn’t believe Mister Klima was the father?” asked the inspector.
“No.”
“And on what do you base your opinion?”
“Mister Klima has been to this town only twice before, and briefly both times. It’s highly unlikely that a sexual relationship could have taken place between him and our nurse. This is too small a town for me not to hear about such a thing. Mister Klima’s paternity most likely was just a deception with which Ruzena persuaded him to appeal to the committee to authorize the abortion. This young gentleman here surely would not have consented to an abortion.”
But Frantisek was no longer hearing what Skreta was saying. And he stood there unseeing. All he heard were Ruzena’s words: “You’re going to drive me to suicide, you’re definitely going to drive me to suicide,” and he knew that he had caused her death and yet he did not understand why, and it all seemed inexplicable to him. He stood there face to face with the unreal, like a savage confronted by a miracle, and all of a sudden he had become deaf and blind because his mind was unable to conceive of the incomprehensibility that had swooped down on him.
(My poor Frantisek, you will wander through your whole life without understanding, you will only know that your love killed the woman you loved, you will carry this certainty like a secret mark of horror; you will wander like a leper bringing inexplicable disasters to loved ones, you will wander through your whole life like a mailman of misfortune.)
He was pale, standing immobile like a pillar of salt and not even seeing that an agitated man had entered the room; the new arrival approached the dead woman, looked at her for a long while, and caressed her hair.
Dr. Skreta whispered: “Suicide. Poison.”
The man shook his head violently: “Suicide? I can swear by all I hold dearest that this woman did not take her own life. And if she swallowed poison it has to be murder.”
The inspector looked at the man in amazement. It was Bertlef, and his eyes were burning with angry fire.
18
Jakub turned the ignition key and drove off. He passed the spa town’s last villas and found himself in a landscape. He headed for the border, and he had no urge to hurry.