House of Glass

by Pramoedya Ananta Toer

  “I can’t remember, Meneer.”

  “I am a policeman, Rientje. You must answer me.”

  She started again, in her kind of nuzzling up way. She stood, and pulled me up against her.

  “When did you meet Suurhof?” I asked again.

  She stopped her carrying on. I saw nervousness in her eyes, but in the end she answered: “About a month before he was jailed in Bandung.”

  “Where did you meet him?” I asked, pressing her.

  “People don’t usually ask things like this here, Meneer.”

  “Suurhof has told you my name and rank?”

  She bit her lip.

  “You must answer all my questions. We have never met but you know I am a policeman! Answer me!” I said resolutely.

  “Yes, Meneer, maybe . . .”

  “No maybes, Rientje. Don’t be afraid. All I want you to do is answer me. That’s all. Nothing else.” I grabbed her hand and sat her down where she had been sitting earlier. She looked pale.

  “Just sit here quietly.”

  I caressed her hair for a moment. Then I suddenly darted over and opened the door to the back room. All I could see was a pair of blue-trousered legs hurriedly leaving via the back door. Someone had been eavesdropping on our conversation. I did not need to chase after him. I had little doubt that it would be none other than Robert Suurhof himself.

  I went back to Rientje de Roo, and quickly repeated my question: “Where, Rientje?”

  She answered by sobbing.

  “Why are you crying?”

  I put to use my knowledge of the ways of these criminals and the game they hunted, pretty girls like her. “You aren’t here of your own free will, are you?” I asked again.

  She stood up then and buried her face in my chest.

  “Why won’t you answer? Afraid? Robert Suurhof ran out the back door just now. He was wearing blue trousers.”

  She nodded, but couldn’t speak.

  “Suurhof has forced you to do this kind of work?”

  She nodded, but couldn’t speak because of her sobbing.

  “You are tormented living like this?”

  Once more she nodded.

  In her embrace, and with her head nestled up against my chest, it felt once more as if she were my youngest daughter. It was easy to understand. She was a normal girl, with all the hopes of a normal girl, who had been torn away from her family by this criminal Suurhof, to be made into just another accoutrement of his power.

  “Do you want to go back to your family?”

  “They will not take me back, Meneer,” she answered at last.

  Just at that moment there was a knock on the door. I opened it: Suurhof stood before me. This time he wore no mustache or beard, but a white silk shirt and gray trousers with black stripes.

  Just a moment before, I had been like any other normal person, among his family and society, educated and with his principles. But it was just for a moment. Facing Suurhof again, I changed. I was just another member of Suurhof’s gang.

  “Forgive me for being a little late, Meneer Pangemanann.” He smiled widely and held out his hand. But my eyes studied his trousers that were not blue and his face that no longer featured a mustache or beard.

  “Don’t you recognize me, Meneer?” he said, laughing. Neither his beard, mustache nor side whiskers had left a trace upon his skin. It was smooth and shining—he had only just shaved.

  “Please sit down, gentlemen.” Rientje de Roo suddenly became her earlier merry self again.

  Suurhof and I sat down. Rientje de Roo went out to the back room. Suurhof stood, went over to the corner, and put some music on the phonograph. He sat down nearby so that he could attend to it when necessary.

  As music from La Traviata wafted around the room, so too laughter echoed inside me. The three of us were the worst play actors in the world.

  “We’re not here to admire that new phonograph,” I chided him. “No doubt one of the many presents you have given Rientje.”

  Suurhof laughed. “There is no need for us to hurry, Meneer. We can take things easy.” Suddenly he stood up, went out back, and dragged Rientje out just so he could say to her: “Heh, my sweet, you don’t seem to be looking after our guest.”

  “You knew the front door was locked, but you came anyway,” was her riposte.

  “Yes, yes, it’s my fault. I turned up one hour too early. Meneer, have you seen Rientje’s room? Come on, don’t worry, have a look!”

  As if she had just received orders, Rientje de Roo once again sat herself down on my lap. Nuzzling up sweetly, she caressed my face.

  “We can talk tonight. I will come back later at a more suitable time,” Suurhof said to me.

  He turned off the phonograph and, with a stylish flourish, strode out of the parlor through the front door.

  “Would you like to see my room?” asked Rientje.

  “I have to leave now, Rientje.”

  “Please don’t go, Meneer. Robert will be very angry with me. Please, come.” She stood and tried to lead me off.

  “No, Rientje. You remind me of my young daughter.”

  “Then just sit here and talk to me. We can talk about whatever you like.”

  And then I saw in my mind’s eye my wife being guided here by Suurhof, and so he would thus be able to get me in his grip.

  “No, Rientje. I must go now. Perhaps I will have a chance some other time.”

  I left behind some money, at her rates, and departed without saying good bye.

  I had just taken a few steps down the street when Suurhof was behind me: “Why are you leaving so quickly?”

  “It’s not the time for that, you damned bastard! Are you a bit smarter now or still as stupid as before?”

  “Meneer will have to decide.”

  We stopped on the footpath, far from any streetlights. There were just one or two people passing by, and they didn’t seem to be bothered with us. I took the initiative and sat down on a low concrete fence outside some building, under a kamboja tree.

  “Are you ready to carry out my orders?”

  “Anytime, Meneer.”

  I ordered him to be in Bandung at a certain time and place and to follow me from far away. He and his men were to wear clothes whose color I would decide later. I told him that my target was Minke. I would try to meet with and talk to him. After he and I separated, Suurhof and his men were to attack and kill Minke, but without using any guns or other weapons, sharp or blunt. They had to do it with their bare hands.

  “And be careful, Suurhof, there must be no second court case. You and your men will get my bullets in you if you muck things up. You’ve caused me enough trouble already, with that second failure of yours.”

  “We will be more careful, Meneer.”

  Later at home something happened that made me change all my plans. A conversation with Paulette, my wife, changed my resolve.

  We had just finished eating. The children had gone into their rooms to study. We sat outside on the veranda. My wife had just finished telling me about what had been happening at home and then she turned to another subject.

  “They say, Jacques, many women say, wives I mean, that it is better that the husband dies before the wife. If the husband is left behind, then the children will not be looked after properly, no matter how clever the husband. But if the husband dies first, then the children will always be looked after even if they have to live in poverty.”

  “Ah, that’s just idle talk,” I answered. “The reality is that every day there are husbands and wives who die. And their children go on living just the same, even if no parents die.”

  “The children lose something, which they will not get from anywhere else or from anyone. Your thoughts are evil tonight, Jacques.”

  “I’m sorry, darling, but that’s the reality. Most of humankind dies because of some calamity, not because of old age . . .” and at that very moment I realized I was actually planning for such a calamity to befall another human being. On a date, and at a t
ime, perhaps at the precise minute that I would determine, he would die because of my will and my orders. For the sake of my position. And for the sake of the undisturbed sleep of His Excellency the governor-general, for the sake of His Excellency’s angelic image.

  “Jacques!” Paulette was stung. “What’s wrong with you? Your thoughts are so frightening today. I think you must be overtired, darling. A few days ago, too, you really frightened me. Like just now. You said the death of a high official makes all his subordinates happy. Then you went silent rigid like wood. The look on your face was really terrifying.”

  “And you rejected what I said. You said that if the person who died was a good man, then he would be farewelled with respect and sadness. Those left behind don’t always feel like that. The dead are dead, that’s all.”

  “Jacques, Jacques, why do you have to bring all these dark thoughts home. Get rid of them before you get home!”

  It had made me realize just what I was doing. She was right.

  “You didn’t have these terrible thoughts before, Jacques. You know that’s why I was happy for you to bring me to the Indies. Lately you haven’t been nice at all.”

  “Yes, perhaps I am too tired.”

  “I don’t think that’s the reason. It’s not only because you’re tired. Perhaps you would really prefer me to die first?”

  Her question put me on the spot. My thoughts had been so full of viciousness lately. I almost responded: “Or perhaps you want me to die first?”

  “It is not we who decide, Jacques. Whoever leaves first will leave behind the other saddened. Why must we discuss something over which we have no control?”

  As the time to go to bed approached, the question of death increasingly disturbed my thoughts. Wherever I looked, I could see him slumping to the ground, I don’t know where. And the Princess of Kasiruta, that respected woman, would be crying out for the husband she so much admired. Sprawled out on the ground he would be just like any other mortal. The woman held her husband in great esteem, and always encouraged him to take a strong stand. Perhaps they were suspicious of the recent calm they had experienced, coming as it did after the Princess had chased away Suurhof’s gang with gunshots. It would be easy now to find ways to speed up Minke’s and his family’s destruction. But the shooting incident did reveal just how greatly that woman admired and honored her husband. And she wasn’t wrong. A person like Minke was indeed worthy of being held in such great esteem, and not just by his own wife, but also by his fellow countrymen. He had begun to change the face of the Indies, he had called forth new forces, even to the extent that the governor-general himself was worried. Not everyone could do such a thing. And it was clear I could never do it. I did not even have the slightest ability to do such a thing. In accordance with what my intellect told me, I myself also sincerely honored him and respected him.

  So, why should his fate be to fall victim to a gang of thugs? It was true too that his death would surely bring forth new leaders in his place, so could my plans for him be intellectually justified? Wouldn’t it burden me for the rest of my life? Would there be accusations from my intellect as well as my conscience?

  Minke must be removed some way besides murder. I needed another week to work out a new plan. No, no, I would not change my plans, because Suurhof knew what they were. But I would add another plan on top of that one. And this new idea truly stemmed from my own chaos. My resolve had been shaken once more and I had gone to jelly.

  I sent Princess Kasiruta an anonymous letter just after her husband left Buitenzorg for Bandung. Her courage, her loyalty to her husband, must be able to save him from the actions of Robert Suurhof and his gang. And in that way Minke would not need to die. That fierce woman would kill Suurhof and his men without hesitation. She would be prepared to do anything to save her husband. With just a little provocation, she would take action without ever thinking of the later consequences. If Suurhof escaped the Princess and Minke was killed anyway, then I would think it had been God’s will.

  I completely understood that my plan and now these changes all stemmed from my own vacillating state of mind, the hesitation that flowed from wanting to safeguard my own position, to continue to enjoy myself in the name of position, career, and family. But on the other hand, I found it all hard to justify intellectually. And so it was that all this was turning me into a bandit, ignorant and without principles. How costly it was to enjoy such self-gratification and security. Other people had to be sold and sacrificed. I think everyone who thinks for themselves understands all about this question of personal gain. And I am not the only one who has been caught up in such matters.

  On the day it was all to happen, I saw the Princess arrive at the place that I had told her about in my letter. She soon saw the people wearing the color of clothes that I had also mentioned. She calmly followed them, hiding her face behind a black umbrella. Police spies had informed me of where Minke was. I followed this man’s every confident stride until he entered a street stall, and then I followed him inside.

  Minke seemed suspicious. He was very vigilant and obviously wanted to get away from me as quickly as possible. He needed to move from where he was seated so he could better observe whatever I might do. As soon as he heard gunshots, he forgot about me altogether, and vanished from view.

  Suurhof and his friends were all sprawled on the ground. And that is just what I imagined would happen. But there was a knife that had got one of Suurhof’s men. I hadn’t predicted this at all. And the police were also unable to find out who had stabbed him.

  And to Donald Nicolson I spat these words: “The man you gave me was useless, no better than a village thug. He was shot. How could he have let that happen? Perhaps because he always reckoned there was no one better than him.”

  “And his prey got away again,” he lamented.

  It did give me some satisfaction to hear his laments. And it gave me even more satisfaction to know that I had got away with perhaps the first ever lie to him.

  Minke’s household was investigated. The investigations were concerned with the shooting of Suurhof, and Princess was the suspect. But she could prove her alibi—that she was home all that day. Piah, her servant, confirmed her alibi, as did several of their watchmen. An examination of her husband Minke’s revolver did not discover any signs of use. The number of bullets accorded with the last report.

  Suurhof did not die, though he would never be able to use his left arm again. His case would remain a mystery. And although the case was being pursued by the police, they would never make a public investigation. Frischboten would be able to expose their incompetence if they did. The chief commissioner and I were both of the same mind, although we never came to a spoken agreement. It would be best if Suurhof died. It would be best if he were escorted to hell while he was laid up in the hospital.

  There were no reprimands from those above. We all hoped that this would wipe the case from everyone’s memory. Suurhof would have to suffer the consequences of his outlaw actions. If he tried to drag my name into it, then perhaps I would have to get rid of him while he was in the hospital.

  Meanwhile the graph with no explanatory note showed no new entries. My commander expressed the view that we could not continue these illegal actions. The police did not have enough experience and it was very difficult to find trustworthy men who were also clever enough to see it through. It seemed I was the only member of the police force who had been involved in this accursed work. And at any moment this work could turn upon me too. There were many ways indeed that I could be ruined.

  I would not be ruined and, of course, did not want to be ruined by my colleagues. I would carry out my duties as best I could. I had a few more years during which I could rise even higher, obtain greater honors, a more substantial reputation, more money, for the sake of—what?

  Perhaps Nicolson would be able to convince the government that a course of action outside the law could not or could not yet be carried out. I did not know what happened up there among those hi
gh above.

  Then something happened that I never expected. I received orders to carry out the verdict of the Batavia prosecutor’s office upon Minke, the editor of Medan—he was to be exiled to Ambon. My hand shook when I received these orders. I would have to confront face-to-face the man I was to ruin.

  He retained his greatness. While I had lost all my principles, and turned into another person. I did not even recognize this new person as myself. He was a great man, he had started great work for his people. I was an insect without form, wrapped in a uniform with epaulets. What kind of life was this? But for the sake of position, and many other for-the-sake-ofs, I left for Buitenzorg. I took a platoon of police from the local station, and arrested him.

  Minke remained calm as if nothing was happening. He didn’t want to take anything with him. All he took was his papers. And Piah—ya, my God, that village girl, what a great heart she had! It seems it is not true that it is only in European history that we find people with great hearts. She was a mountain, I was a pebble! I was European educated, I had sat in the lecture halls of the world’s greatest university, and yet I could not achieve the greatness of a domestic servant called Piah. She was capable of taking a stand. And I? What did I amount to—with my glamorous uniform and my heavy revolver hanging at my hip?

  I was unable to hide the true character of my soul during the trip to Betawi with Minke. He remained mute the whole journey. He never stopped speaking, but without a voice, just through the look in his eyes and the changes in the look on his face. Every one and all of his unspoken words said one thing and one thing only. What kind of human being are you, Pangemanann, candidate chief commissioner?

  I was ordered to share a cabin with him during the journey to Ambon. I had to stick with him wherever he went. I could not sleep during the day, and I had to wake up before him every morning. For five days he refused to say a word to me, no matter how nice a face I put on for him. I knew that I had lost all value in his eyes and in his heart. And yes, it was true, I had lost all value even for myself. Only a false arrogance enveloped my body. Without my uniform, without my gun, without signs of rank, without my position, it was clear that I was more contemptible than Piah. Yes, I admit this, with all the honesty in my heart.