The Brothers Karamazov

“But he never would have found the money, sir. I only instructed him that the money was under the mattress. But it wasn’t true, sir. At first it was in the box, that’s how it was, sir. And then I instructed Fyodor Pavlovich, since he trusted only me of all mankind, to transfer that same package with the money to the corner behind the icons, because no one would ever think of looking there, especially if he was in a hurry. And so that package lay there in the corner, behind the icons, sir. And to keep it under the mattress would even be ridiculous, the box at least had a lock on it. And everyone here now believes it was under the mattress. Foolish reasoning, sir. And so, if Dmitri Fyodorovich committed that same murder, then, having found nothing, he would either run away in a hurry, sir, afraid of every rustle, as always happens with murderers, or he’d be arrested, sir. So then, either the next day, or even that same night, sir, I could always get behind the icons and take that same money, sir, and it would all have fallen on Dmitri Fyodorovich. I could always hope for that.”

“Well, and what if he didn’t kill him, but only gave him a beating?”

“If he didn’t kill him, then of course I wouldn’t dare take the money, and it would all be in vain. But there was also the calculation that he might beat him unconscious, and meanwhile I’d have time to take the money, and then afterwards I would report to Fyodor Pavlovich that it was none other than Dmitri Fyodorovich who had beaten him and carried off the money.”

“Wait ... I’m getting confused. So it was Dmitri who killed him after all, and you just took the money?”

“No, it wasn’t him that killed him, sir. Look, even now I could tell you he was the murderer ... but I don’t want to lie to you now, because. . .because if, as I see now, you really didn’t understand anything before this, and weren’t pretending so as to shift your obvious guilt onto me right to my face, still you are guilty of everything, sir, because you knew about the murder, and you told me to kill him, sir, and, knowing everything, you left. Therefore I want to prove it to your face tonight that in all this the chief murderer is you alone, sir, and I’m just not the real chief one, though I did kill him. It’s you who are the most lawful murderer!”

“Why, why am I the murderer? Oh, God!” Ivan finally could not bear it, forgetting that he had put off all talk of himself to the end of the conversation. “Is it still that same Chermashnya? Wait, speak, why did you need my consent, if you did take Chermashnya for consent? How will you explain that now?”

“Being confident of your consent, I’d know you wouldn’t come back and start yelling because of that lost three thousand, in case the authorities suspected me for some reason instead of Dmitri Fyodorovich, or that I was Dmitri Fyodorovich’s accomplice; on the contrary, you’d protect me from the others .. . And the inheritance, when you got it, you might even reward me sometime later, during the whole rest of your life to come, because, after all, you’d have had the pleasure of getting that inheritance through me, otherwise, what with marrying Agrafena Alexandrovna, all you’d get is a fig.”

“Ah! So you intended to torment me afterwards, all the rest of my life!” Ivan growled. “And what if I hadn’t left then, but had turned you in?”

“What could you turn me in for? That I put you up to Chermashnya? But that’s foolishness, sir. Besides, after our conversation you could either go or stay. If you stayed, then nothing would happen, I’d simply know, sir, that you didn’t want this business, and I wouldn’t undertake anything. But since you did go, it meant you were assuring me that you wouldn’t dare turn me over to the court and would forgive me the three thousand. And you wouldn’t be able to persecute me at all afterwards, because in that case I’d tell everything in court, sir, that is, not that I stole or killed—I wouldn’t say that—but that it was you who put me up to stealing and killing, only I didn’t agree. That’s why I needed your consent then, so that you couldn’t corner me with anything afterwards, sir, because where would you get any proof of that, but I could always corner you, sir, by revealing how much you desired your parent’s death, and I give you my word—the public would all believe me, and you’d be ashamed for the rest of your life.”

“So I did, I did desire it, did I?” Ivan growled again.

“You undoubtedly did, sir, and by your consent then you silently allowed me that business, sir,” Smerdyakov looked firmly at Ivan. He was very weak and spoke softly and wearily, but something inner and hidden was firing him up, he apparently had some sort of intention. Ivan could sense it.

“Go on,” he said to him, “go on with that night.”