Resurrection by Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy (i love reading .TXT) 📖

Euphemia Botchkova and Simeon

Kartinkin, with a key given her by the said Smelkoff. In the

portmanteau opened by the said Maslova, the said Botchkova and

Kartinkin saw packets of 100-rouble bank-notes.

 

3. On the said Smelkoff’s return to the lodging-house Mauritania,

together with Lubka, the latter, in accordance with the attendant

Kartinkin’s advice, gave the said Smelkoff some white powder

given to her by the said Kartinkin, dissolved in brandy.

 

4. The next morning the said Lubka (alias Katerina Maslova) sold

to her mistress, the witness Kitaeva, a brothel-keeper, a diamond

ring given to her, as she alleged, by the said Smelkoff.

 

5. The housemaid of the lodging-house Mauritania, Euphemia

Botchkova, placed to her account in the local Commercial Bank

1,800 roubles. The postmortem examination of the body of the said

Smelkoff and the chemical analysis of his intestines proved

beyond doubt the presence of poison in the organism, so that

there is reason to believe that the said Smelkoff’s death was

caused by poisoning.

 

When cross-examined, the accused, Maslova, Botchkova, and

Kartinkin, pleaded not guilty, deposing—Maslova, that she had

really been sent by Smelkoff from the brothel, where she “works,”

as she expresses it, to the lodging-house Mauritania to get the

merchant some money, and that, having unlocked the portmanteau

with a key given her by the merchant, she took out 40 roubles, as

she was told to do, and that she had taken nothing more; that

Botchkova and Kartinkin, in whose presence she unlocked and

locked the portmanteau, could testify to the truth of the

statement.

 

She gave this further evidence—that when she came to the

lodging-house for the second time she did, at the instigation of

Simeon Kartinkin, give Smelkoff sonic kind of powder, which she

thought was a narcotic, in a glass of brandy, hoping he would

fall asleep and that she would be able to get away from him; and

that Smelkoff, having beaten her, himself gave her the ring when

she cried and threatened to go away.

 

The accused, Euphemia Botchkova, stated that she knew nothing

about the missing money, that she had not even gone into

Smelkoff’s room, but that Lubka had been busy there all by

herself; that if anything had been stolen, it must have been done

by Lubka when she came with the merchant’s key to get his money.

 

At this point Maslova gave a start, opened her mouth, and looked

at Botchkova. “When,” continued the secretary, “the receipt for

1,800 roubles from the bank was shown to Botchkova, and she was

asked where she had obtained the money, she said that it was her

own earnings for 12 years, and those of Simeon, whom she was

going to marry. The accused Simeon Kartinkin, when first

examined, confessed that he and Botchkova, at the instigation of

Maslova, who had come with the key from the brothel, had stolen

the money and divided it equally among themselves and Maslova.”

Here Maslova again started, half-rose from her seat, and,

blushing scarlet, began to say something, but was stopped by the

usher. “At last,” the secretary continued, reading, “Kartinkin

confessed also that he had supplied the powders in order to get

Smelkoff to sleep. When examined the second time he denied having

had anything to do with the stealing of the money or giving

Maslova the powders, accusing her of having done it alone.”

 

Concerning the money placed in the bank by Botchkova, he said the

same as she, that is, that the money was given to them both by

the lodgers in tips during 12 years’ service.

 

The indictment concluded as follows:

 

In consequence of the foregoing, the peasant of the village

Borki, Simeon Kartinkin, 33 years of age, the meschanka Euphemia

Botchkova, 43 years of age, and the meschanka Katerina Maslova,

27 years of age, are accused of having on the 17th day of

January, 188—, jointly stolen from the said merchant, Smelkoff,

a ring and money, to the value of 2,500 roubles, and of having

given the said merchant, Smelkoff, poison to drink, with intent

of depriving him of life, and thereby causing his death. This

crime is provided for in clause 1,455 of the Penal Code,

paragraphs 4 and 5.

 

CHAPTER XI.

 

THE TRIAL—MASLOVA CROSS-EXAMINED.

 

When the reading of the indictment was over, the president, after

having consulted the members, turned to Kartinkin, with an

expression that plainly said: Now we shall find out the whole

truth down to the minutest detail.

 

“Peasant Simeon Kartinkin,” he said, stooping to the left.

 

Simeon Kartinkin got up, stretched his arms down his sides, and

leaning forward with his whole body, continued moving his cheeks

inaudibly.

 

“You are accused of having on the 17th January, 188—, together

with Euphemia Botchkova and Katerina Maslova, stolen money from a

portmanteau belonging to the merchant Smelkoff, and then, having

procured some arsenic, persuaded Katerina Maslova to give it to

the merchant Smelkoff in a glass of brandy, which was the cause

of Smelkoff’s death. Do you plead guilty?” said the president,

stooping to the right.

 

“Not nohow, because our business is to attend on the lodgers,

and—”

 

“You’ll tell us that afterwards. Do you plead guilty?”

 

“Oh, no, sir. I only,—”

 

“You’ll tell us that afterwards. Do you plead guilty?” quietly

and firmly asked the president.

 

“Can’t do such a thing, because that—”

 

The usher again rushed up to Simeon Kartinkin, and stopped him

in a tragic whisper.

 

The president moved the hand with which he held the paper and

placed the elbow in a different position with an air that said:

“This is finished,” and turned to Euphemia Botchkova.

 

“Euphemia Botchkova, you are accused of having, on the 17th of

January, 188-, in the lodging-house Mauritania, together with

Simeon Kartinkin and Katerina Maslova, stolen some money and a

ring out of the merchant Smelkoff’s portmanteau, and having

shared the money among yourselves, given poison to the merchant

Smelkoff, thereby causing his death. Do you plead guilty?”

 

“I am not guilty of anything,” boldly and firmly replied the

prisoner. “I never went near the room, but when this baggage went

in she did the whole business.”

 

“You will say all this afterwards,” the president again said,

quietly and firmly. “So you do not plead guilty?”

 

“I did not take the money nor give the drink, nor go into the

room. Had I gone in I should have kicked her out.”

 

“So you do not plead guilty?”

 

“Never.”

 

“Very well.”

 

“Katerina Maslova,” the president began, turning to the third

prisoner, “you are accused of having come from the brothel with

the key of the merchant Smelkoff’s portmanteau, money, and a

ring.” He said all this like a lesson learned by heart, leaning

towards the member on his left, who was whispering into his car

that a bottle mentioned in the list of the material evidence was

missing. “Of having stolen out of the portmanteau money and a

ring,” he repeated, “and shared it. Then, returning to the

lodging house Mauritania with Smelkoff, of giving him poison in

his drink, and thereby causing his death. Do you plead guilty?”

 

“I am not guilty of anything,” she began rapidly. “As I said

before I say again, I did not take it—I did not take it; I did

not take anything, and the ring he gave me himself.”

 

“You do not plead guilty of having stolen 2,500 roubles?” asked

the president.

 

“I’ve said I took nothing but the 40 roubles.”

 

“Well, and do you plead guilty of having given the merchant

Smelkoff a powder in his drink?”

 

“Yes, that I did. Only I believed what they told me, that they

were sleeping powders, and that no harm could come of them. I

never thought, and never wished… God is my witness; I say, I

never meant this,” she said.

 

“So you do not plead guilty of having stolen the money and the

ring from the merchant Smelkoff, but confess that you gave him

the powder?” said the president.

 

“Well, yes, I do confess this, but I thought they were sleeping

powders. I only gave them to make him sleep; I never meant and

never thought of worse.”

 

“Very well,” said the president, evidently satisfied with the

results gained. “Now tell us how it all happened,” and he leaned

back in his chair and put his folded hands on the table. “Tell us

all about it. A free and full confession will be to your

advantage.”

 

Maslova continued to look at the president in silence, and

blushing.

 

“Tell us how it happened.”

 

“How it happened?” Maslova suddenly began, speaking quickly. “I

came to the lodging-house, and was shown into the room. He was

there, already very drunk.” She pronounced the word he with a

look of horror in her wide-open eyes. “I wished to go away, but

he would not let me.” She stopped, as if having lost the thread,

or remembered some thing else.

 

“Well, and then?”

 

“Well, what then? I remained a bit, and went home again.”

 

At this moment the public prosecutor raised himself a little,

leaning on one elbow in an awkward manner.

 

“You would like to put a question?” said the president, and

having received an answer in the affirmative, he made a gesture

inviting the public prosecutor to speak.

 

“I want to ask, was the prisoner previously acquainted with

Simeon Kartinkin?” said the public prosecutor, without looking at

Maslova, and, having put the question, he compressed his lips and

frowned.

 

The president repeated the question. Maslova stared at the public

prosecutor, with a frightened look.

 

“With Simeon? Yes,” she said.

 

“I should like to know what the prisoner’s acquaintance with

Kartinkin consisted in. Did they meet often?”

 

“Consisted in? … He invited me for the lodgers; it was not

an acquaintance at all,” answered Maslova, anxiously moving her

eyes from the president to the public prosecutor and back to the

president.

 

“I should like to know why Kartinkin invited only Maslova, and

none of the other girls, for the lodgers?” said the public

prosecutor, with half-closed eyes and a cunning, Mephistophelian

smile.

 

“I don’t know. How should I know?” said Maslova, casting a

frightened look round, and fixing her eyes for a moment on

Nekhludoff. “He asked whom he liked.”

 

“Is it possible that she has recognised me?” thought Nekhludoff,

and the blood rushed to his face. But Maslova turned away without

distinguishing him from the others, and again fixed her eyes

anxiously on the public prosecutor.

 

“So the prisoner denies having had any intimate relations with

Kartinkin? Very well, I have no more questions to ask.”

 

And the public prosecutor took his elbow off the desk, and began

writing something. He was not really noting anything down, but

only going over the letters of his notes with a pen, having seen

the procureur and leading advocates, after putting a clever

question, make a note, with which, later on, to annihilate their

adversaries.

 

The president did not continue at once, because he was consulting

the member with the spectacles, whether he was agreed that the

questions (which had all been prepared be forehand and written

out) should be put.

 

“Well! What happened next?” he then went on.

 

“I came home,” looking a little more boldly only at the

president, “and went to bed. Hardly had I fallen asleep when one

of our girls, Bertha, woke me. ‘Go, your merchant has come

again!’ He”—she again uttered the word he with evident horror—

“he kept treating our girls, and then wanted to send for more

wine, but his money was all gone, and he sent me to his lodgings

and told me where the