[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

mine.
 A big man. Hiking. Indeed, said the examiner, once again
lost in thought.  A most noticeably sizeable man.
 I don t like this in the least, the doctor grumbled.  I
detest murders. For heaven s sake, cover him up!
Scowling, Slavík approached the examiner.  That s pure
nonsense.
 What is?
 That business about the monograms. Why did the
murderer remove them? If he d left them, everyone would
believe that what happened was simply an accident. Not
murder. Just someone falling. There would have been no
incriminating evidence. Why did he do it?
 I don t know.
 Secondly, it was stupid to pick up the hat. He obviously
wasn t thinking. But once down here he certainly was  and
then some. He didn t miss a thing. A good mind, apparently. 
Isn t that a contradiction?
 I don t know.
 Thirdly, you can see in here from the road and also from
the village. The murderer was in mortal danger and yet he
worked deliberately, slowly, downright methodically. He didn t
neglect a thing. It s extremely paradoxical.
52 C ROSS ROADS
 An ugly case. The doctor was angry.
 Ugly and murky. You ll have to allow for enigmatic and
extraordinary motives behind this act. Or an enigmatic,
extraordinary individual who did it. The case is stranger than
it seems. You re likely to have quite a job solving it; I only
wanted to point out to you  
 Thank you, the examiner said considerately.  You ve
given me a great deal to think about. But if you ll excuse me,
you don t understand. I don t have to solve this case. I don t
solve anything. I m only an administrative executive. If it would
amuse you, I could invite you to come along.
He doesn t solve anything, was going around in Slavík s mind,
so what exactly does he do?  A few moments later he finally
asked the question.
 I don t solve anything, said the examiner,  simply
because& Look, sir, I don t take action on my own, and I
cannot solve anything. I act in the name of the law, which
rather than finding solutions makes decisions. The law only
makes decisions about cases, and in its irrefutable procedures
lies its strength.  An evidentiary judgment is a command. This
is the logic of the law. No, sir, it s not a question of solutions
at all.
With a look of boredom on his face, the examiner set up an
inquiry. Slowly the number of people grew who, the day before,
had seen an  unfamiliar person here or there. Sometimes he
was a tall, slim, bearded fellow; then again, a powerfully built
outsider, redheaded and deep in thought, with shaven cheeks;
or, again, an unusually large, strong-looking hiker whose face
no one could see. This last one, it appeared, was literally on the
run and had left behind him a confusion of horrifying
footprints.
The day before the body was found, right when it was
raining so hard, a certain old man driving his cart to the train
 THE MOUNTAIN 53
station passed a large, unfamiliar man in short hiking pants.
 Go sit under an awning, he called to the man.  I don t want
to, the man said. The old fellow drove on, but he felt sorry
for the dripping wet pedestrian and called out to him a second
time.  I don t want to, the man shouted furiously, and he
trotted off toward the station. It was striking,  peculiar, the
driver said,  how big he was and how sorry I felt for him.
(Examination of the old carter.)
A little later, this same outsized man in sports clothes
arrived at the station and waited on the platform, in the rain,
for the evening train to come through. The stationmaster sent
him to the waiting room, but the man merely pulled up his
collar. After a while, the stationmaster came to notify him that
the train wasn t running today, because forty-five kilometers
away, a cliff had given way during the rainstorm and rocks had
buried the tracks. The huge traveler swore something awful and
asked when the next train was leaving. At twenty-four hundred,
said the stationmaster, and he nearly recoiled before the man s
pained, wrathful eyes.  You ought to spend the night in town,
he advised the man sympathetically.  Don t worry about me,
was the traveler s curt response, and he left. His face was
covered, which gave him a strange,  tormented impression,
 like the face of a man in mortal danger. (Testimony of the
stationmaster.) [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]