Judge On Trial

by Ivan Klíma

  ‘I agree. But I would like to know for what reason I was summoned.’

  ‘You were invited here for an informative chat.’

  ‘Surely there was no need for it to have assumed such dramatic form.’

  The man brushed his remark aside. ‘So you are a judge. Since when?’

  ‘I hardly think that is the subject of your enquiry.’

  ‘Were you in America, Dr Kindl?’

  ‘Why do you ask? You gave me the passport.’

  ‘You know very well we do not issue passports here. During your stay in America you didn’t work as a judge, did you?’

  ‘Certainly not. That was out of the question.’

  ‘Did you have a lot of friends in America?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you correspond with them frequently?’

  ‘Any correspondence is solely about personal matters.’

  ‘In the course of your professional duties have you ever come across criminal activity that might qualify as incitement through the dissemination of subversive literature?’

  ‘Not as far as I recall. Certainly not in the recent period.’

  ‘What is your attitude to such criminal activity?’

  ‘The same as to any other criminal activity.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘You don’t intend to cross-examine me, surely.’

  ‘Have you been receiving such literature from abroad?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘You didn’t even try to get it sent to you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you know Jim Fox?’

  ‘I’ve never heard the name before.’

  ‘Are you sure? Didn’t he visit you several weeks ago?’

  At that moment, the penny dropped: Best wishes, bit of a headache on the way home. Sorry if I caused any bother . . . Yes, the bother had arrived. It was the American whom his wife had invited home the evening she had brought her lover to see him. And he had sent Petr’s list of books with him. They had most likely confiscated the list at the airport – and now it lay there in the file the fellow had in front of him; he could pull it out and show it to him at any moment. He felt the blood rushing to his head. He was not used to lying or prevaricating – he was more accustomed to proving that others were lying.

  ‘I have already told you I don’t know him.’ He was unsure whether his voice still sounded convincing. This was offensive. The treatment he was being subjected to filled him with growing anger and resentment.

  ‘Well, if you don’t know him, you don’t know him. I suppose you’ll acknowledge your own brother.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I acknowledge my brother?’ He felt relieved at the change of subject.

  ‘You brother is abroad, isn’t he?’

  ‘He’s there legally.’

  ‘Your brother went abroad four years ago?’

  ‘If it’s really been four years, yes.’

  ‘Why precisely four years ago, do you think?’

  ‘Why not precisely four years ago? If someone’s going, they have to go some time.’

  ‘You’re well aware that something happened here then.’

  ‘I don’t see what connection there should be between my brother’s departure and events here.’

  ‘Your brother studied here?’

  ‘Of course. Where else?’

  ‘Don’t you think that, having studied here, it is his duty to work here, to give something to society in return? Where does your brother work exactly?’

  ‘We shan’t talk about that. I’m not obliged to answer any questions about my brother.’

  ‘I’m hardly asking you things that justify you coming the lawyer with me. Do you think he’ll return, your brother?’

  ‘Nor shall I answer questions about what a third person thinks or intends to do.’

  ‘All right, as you like. Have you been mixing with your friends much in the recent period? There’s no need to look so outraged, I’m hardly asking you anything that should offend you. For the moment I’m not even asking you about your friends’ wives.’

  ‘I have no comment to make.’

  ‘Do you know Matěj Kožnar?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘What is the character of your relationship?’

  ‘It is an entirely legal relationship.’

  ‘Mr Kožnar used to be a broadcaster. Did you ever listen to any of his programmes?’

  ‘Possibly. I don’t recall.’

  ‘What did you think about his programmes?’

  ‘I can’t say. I’m not an expert on radio programmes.’

  ‘But you’re a lawyer. Wasn’t the content of those programmes intended to incite? Didn’t they defame our system?’

  ‘I’ve no idea which programmes you have in mind. If the content had been as you describe they could not have been broadcast as far as I understand.’

  ‘There was a period when they could be broadcast. And they were indeed broadcast. You are aware of what Mr Kožnar is doing these days?’

  ‘You mean his present occupation?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I don’t know anything definite.’

  ‘Didn’t Mr Kožnar ever mention to you what he did in his spare time?’

  ‘No, I don’t recall.’

  ‘Didn’t he happen to mention that he writes in his spare time?’

  ‘I don’t recall his ever mentioning it.’

  ‘You don’t happen to be writing any articles yourself?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘But you used to.’

  ‘Yes, of course I did.’

  ‘Under what name?’

  ‘Under my own, naturally.’

  ‘There’s no “naturally” about it. Many people like yourself also used to publish under other names.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway there is nothing illegal about using a pseudonym.’

  ‘It depends what appeared over it. And where! Don’t you think?’

  ‘I’ve no comment to make.’

  ‘Have you ever heard of Professor Fiktus?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Do you know him well?’

  ‘I know him.’

  ‘Did you get to know him at university?’

  ‘Definitely not!’

  ‘But you were at university together!’

  ‘We weren’t. He’s younger. At least five years younger.’

  ‘Do you often visit Professor Fiktus?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You only visit him when he organises readings?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ ‘What was his last reading about?’

  ‘I’ve just told you. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Perhaps if I read you an excerpt, you’ll remember. “This new étatisme – I shall call it police étatisme because the police become its chief agent and support and in the end proclaim themselves to be the state and their interests to be the interests of the entire community – has created a new form of exploitation . . .”’

  ‘No, I don’t recall having heard it. I don’t have a good memory for quotations or definitions.’

  ‘You have a bad memory?’

  ‘A bad memory for quotations!’

  ‘Doesn’t that create problems for you in your professional life?’

  ‘Not that I’ve noticed.’

  ‘What’s your reaction to that excerpt?’

  ‘It’s an excerpt.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘An excerpt is part of a continuous text and therefore cannot be assessed out of context.’

  ‘Is that someone’s definition?’

  ‘No. I was just trying to explain to you what an excerpt was.’

  ‘And didn’t that excerpt sound to you as if it was part of a subversive text?’

  ‘I have already said what I have to say about it.’

  ‘Who came to the readings?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean by readings.’

  ‘W
eren’t you at Fiktus’s when he was reading from his book?’

  ‘I’ve already told you I don’t remember.’

  ‘You told me you couldn’t remember the excerpt. You’re not trying to tell me that you can’t remember whether your host read something or not?’

  ‘Maybe he did. I don’t see its importance. I left early, that evening.’

  ‘Why did you leave early?’

  ‘For personal reasons.’

  ‘You didn’t happen to leave because you were incensed by the text being read?’

  ‘Certainly not.’

  ‘Do you recall who was there that evening?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘No one at all?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Out of a room full of people you are unable to remember a single person? But it’s not even a month ago! If some witness were to declare something like that in court, wouldn’t you think he was prevaricating?’

  ‘That would depend on the witness’s reliability.’

  ‘Was your friend Ruml present?’

  ‘I don’t remember.’

  ‘Do you still regard him as your friend?’

  ‘That is hardly the subject of your enquiry, surely?’

  ‘Maybe you object to the fact he has kept his job. Just recently you seem to have preferred the company of people who had to leave their jobs.’

  ‘That’s certainly not the way I’d put it.’

  ‘How would you put it, then?’

  ‘I’d sooner say my friends were forced to leave their jobs.’

  ‘Then it looks as if you chose your friends badly, if that’s what happened to them.’

  ‘On the contrary, they were decent people; that’s why it happened to them.’

  ‘Does that mean you don’t regard yourself as decent?’

  ‘I sometimes have my doubts.’

  ‘Isn’t it time to end the fun and games, Dr Kindl? The Party certainly wasn’t playing games either when it decided that those people had to go. By and large they were qualified individuals and society had invested quite a lot of money in training them. We are fully aware that many of them were capable. If society decided that it was prepared to risk the loss which the departure of those people would incur for the economy, then it certainly knew why. And you know it too. Those people had to go because they were enemies. It’s better to lose a number of experts rather than allow enemies to sabotage our society and our work, harm our young folk and poison people’s minds over the air-waves or through the pages of the newspapers. On that issue, our society will be uncompromising. And you can tell that to your friends from me. If they think to themselves that all this is just a joke, just a passing phase, and are counting on another “thaw”, as they call it, so that they can get their jobs back again, then they’re mistaken. They are out in the cold. The people have written them off. And as far as you’re concerned, it’s high time you realised once and for all that you are a judge in our state. And you’re well aware who rules our state. The people entrusted you with a responsible function and expects you to carry out your duties properly. You ought to realise the sort of people you are mixing with, what they’re trying to drag you into, and what they want from you. You of all people should be able to understand that. With a background like yours! You should be able to grasp what’s at stake in the world today. And draw the consequences while there is still time. I’d have thought you’d got problems enough at home. You don’t need to go making yourself more. Enough said?’

  He had not expected such a lengthy statement and it stupefied, sickened and alarmed him so much that he stood up and said: ‘All I have to say is that my friends and I do nothing that contravenes our laws.’

  He was so disconcerted that he shook the proffered hand and even said ‘See you’ on the way out. He immediately realised the fateful meaning of his slip of the tongue, but it was too late to withdraw the words.

  3

  Having called the courthouse to say he would be delayed a little longer, he managed to get hold of a taxi and returned home.

  Alena was still lying down, her head sunk deep in the pillow. Her rather prominent chin seemed to him fixed and rigid and her nose had become pointed like the ones on the corpses he had seen drawn along on carts in his childhood. Then she moved, slowly pushing the pillow aside. ‘You’re back already?’

  ‘I just looked in to see how you were.’

  ‘That’s . . . that’s nice of you.’ She uttered the words slowly and deliberately as if searching for each word separately. She looked so wretched that he felt sorry for her. How could she have done it? Whatever possessed her to want to end her life all of a sudden? Was it he who had driven her to it? Had he dragged her into his own emptiness, in which she turned on the gas out of despair, or had she fallen victim to her own emptiness? ‘Can I get you something? You ought to drink milk.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  At the same time, he was repelled by her dull, lethargic resignation. He brought her a cup of milk. She sat up and sipped it like a child.

  ‘Will you tell me how it all happened?’

  ‘I called you and you weren’t in.’ Her lower lip quivered.

  ‘Did he persuade you?’

  ‘All he said was . . .’ She stopped. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘He wanted to kill you.’

  ‘But you weren’t at home!’

  ‘Are you trying to tell me that I was partly to blame?’

  ‘Don’t shout at me!’

  ‘I wasn’t home, just like you weren’t home.’

  ‘It hurts me here when you shout,’ she said, indicating her forehead.

  ‘Can you tell me whose idea it was?’

  She said nothing.

  ‘Who turned the gas on?’

  ‘Stop interrogating me. That’s the one thing I ask. At least leave me alone now!’

  ‘Did he do it?’

  ‘He still loves me . . . Unlike you . . .’

  ‘That’s why he wanted to kill you. You are aware, are you, that he wanted to kill you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What do you mean “No”?’

  ‘I don’t want you to talk about it now. Please leave me alone.’

  ‘As you like. Shouldn’t I take you to the doctor’s?’

  ‘No. I’ll get over it.’

  ‘And what if . . . You won’t do anything like that again?’

  ‘No . . . After all, I’ve got . . .’ She burst into tears.

  ‘Do you promise?’

  ‘Leave me alone, please!’

  ‘Stay in bed. I’ll be back soon.’

  ‘Will you really?’

  ‘I’ll do my best. And I’ll phone you.’

  ‘Adam, I didn’t want to. I’m sorry. It was the last thing I wanted.’

  ‘I know. Now stop thinking about it and rest.’

  ‘But what’s going to happen now?’

  ‘Try not to think about anything.’

  ‘How do you expect me not to think about it?’ Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  He felt regret at everything that had happened and at the way things now were. He bent over and hugged her. She clung to him desperately.

  ‘You must never do anything like that again.’

  ‘I know, Adam. I love you all so much.’

  Her eyes were fixed on him. Her tear-filled eyes strove to catch him, call him back, hold on to him and tie him down.

  As he was going out of the door he just caught her whispered words: ‘Do you love me too?’ He pretended not to hear and left hastily.

  He entered his office just as his colleague was putting a demijohn of wine into the cupboard. ‘Look what they brought me. Out of sheer gratitude for divorcing them. Fancy a glass?’

  ‘I’ll have a drop. I’m not here with the car today!’ He felt the need to justify his assent. He drank the glass off almost in one go. Somehow he ought to let his friends know he had been asked about them. But he was reluctant to call them. He didn’t trust the telephone.


  And he ought to do something about that student too. Fancy her getting involved with a deviant poisoner like him. He could have him prosecuted, but it would be more useful to get him to a psychiatrist; before he ended up doing something like that other youngster, the one whose case was coming up. They had something in common, he realised. The same bemused expression and a feigned confidence when speaking. What kind of emptiness did they inhabit? What icy winds blew through it? It was not in his power to save them from it. All he could do was try them. But what was the point of such a trial, what was the point of a judge who had nothing but the letter of the law to offer if anyone were to ask him what he should fill that icy void with?

  ‘I’ve meant to ask you several times,’ his colleague said suddenly, ‘how well you know Oldřich.’

  As if there was any way of answering a question like that. ‘May I have another glass?’

  ‘Of course you can. It’s a novelty to see you drink.’ She gazed at him expectantly.

  ‘We used to share an office at one time; but I don’t know what I could tell you that might interest you.’

  ‘Of course. I do know what you mean. Sorry for asking such a tactless question.’ She actually blushed.

  ‘He was always nice to me and whenever I needed help, he helped me,’ he added, forcing himself to come up with a reference of some kind.

  ‘He always speaks well of you too.’

  ‘Really?’ He took another drink, but was unable to get drunk fast enough to get out of this embarrassing conversation.

  ‘He would like me to explain some things to you.’

  ‘He wants you to explain something to me?’

  ‘He has the feeling you don’t realise the situation you’re in.’

  ‘I’m sure he’s mistaken.’

  ‘No, I happen to think so too. You came up at a meeting recently. I oughtn’t to tell you, you know the form, but it would be better for you to know. They have lots of reservations about you. They gave you the Kozlík case deliberately. They know you’ll go out of your way to save him from the rope. But you’ll make sure he swings, won’t you?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’m advising you to. Because otherwise you’re for the chop.’

  ‘Why is someone so keen he should swing?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ she said. ‘After all, he did kill a child. People were incensed.’