.
Alexandrovich!’
‘Would you care for some tea, Dmitri Alexandrovich?’ said the bitch of a mother, coming definitely into the room.
Vera Samsonova, tracked down at last to the small room she used as a dispensary, regarded him unwelcomingly.
‘Yes?’
Dmitri declared himself.
‘I’m sorry I missed you last night,’ he said.
‘You didn’t miss me. I didn’t go.’
‘I thought that Sonya – ’
‘She asked me. I wasn’t free.’
‘Oh.’
‘In any case, I probably wouldn’t have gone.’
‘Oh, that’s a pity. Why not, may I ask?’
‘I think such gatherings are a bit beside the point,’ said Vera Samsonova. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Beside what point?’ asked Dmitri cautiously.
‘If you’re looking for intellectual involvement you’re not going to find it there.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. The people are very agreeable – ’
‘Agreeable,’ said Vera Samsonova, ‘but not very interesting.’
‘Considering that we live in Kursk – ’ Dmitri began.
‘It’s not where they live,’ said Vera Samsonova, ‘it’s the kind of people they are. Dilettante. And naturally they want to talk about dilettante-ish things.’
‘Art?’ said Dmitri, annoyed. ‘Culture? Where Russia is going?’
‘Perhaps the subjects are not dilettante,’ Vera conceded. ‘It’s just the way they are talked about.’
‘Ah, well, there I agree with you – ’
‘In terms of generalities. You ask where Russia is going; not what it ought to be doing about sewage.’
‘Sewage!’
‘Yes, sewage. And farming and engineering and taxation – ’
‘Taxation!’
‘Taxation.’
‘Boring!’ said Dmitri, rallying.
‘Real!’ said Vera Samsonova defiantly.
‘Absolute nonsense!’
‘You see?’ said Vera. ‘Prejudiced!’
‘Not prejudiced at all,’ said Dmitri: ‘rational. And surely these things can be discussed rationally. That’s the point of our gatherings.’
‘You’ve got the wrong people there,’ said Vera. ‘You ought to have surveyors and agronomists – ’
‘Sewage experts?’
‘Certainly.’
‘You’ll be saying doctors next!’
Vera considered. Then, unexpectedly, her face dimpled and broke into a smile. Up till now, Dmitri had attributed to her all the charm of a pair of scissors.
‘Well, perhaps not doctors. At least, not the kind of doctors we have in Kursk!’
‘There you are! Come and give us a chance to argue your points.’
‘Maybe. It would certainly be better than arguing them here. Now, look, I’ve got work to do. Haven’t you?’
‘I’m doing it,’ said Dmitri, injured. ‘I’m here on business.’
‘You are? Well, it’s a pretty relaxed kind of business compared with mine, I can tell you. Or perhaps it’s just that our approaches are different. You prefer a more general one. What was it exactly that you came for?’
‘I came to ask about Anna Semeonova.’
Vera Samsonova put down the burette she had been holding and turned to give him her full attention.
‘Has she been found?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Well, I suppose that’s good news in a way. I was afraid – ’ she gave a slight shake of her shoulders – ‘that the next time I might see her was when she was brought here.’
‘Do you have any particular reason for fearing that?’
‘No.’
‘She might just have run away.’
‘She might.’
‘If she had, would that surprise you?’
‘Would it surprise me?’ Vera Samsonova considered. ‘No, to the extent that she is an independent girl and capable of independent action. Yes, to the extent that she would have had to have had a reason.’
‘And you don’t know of one?’
‘No. Was there one?’
‘I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.’
‘Well, I’m not the person to ask. I only know her slightly. She’s come to see me once or twice recently to ask me about something that she’s been reading.’
‘Which was?’
‘Oh, it was a book about infantile mortality. A bit out of date. But there were some comparative statistics she couldn’t understand – not the numbers, but the medical terms used.’
‘Nothing political?’
‘Political?’ Vera Samsonova stared at him.
‘Well, I just wondered. She disappeared from the Law Courts, you see, where she had been to watch a case being tried, and I wondered what had taken her there. Her parents thought mere idle curiosity, but I wondered …’
‘What did you wonder, Dmitri Alexandrovich?’
‘If it was an interest in justice.’
‘And that makes it political?’
‘Sometimes.’
Vera Samsonova was silent. Then she said:
‘We did not talk about that, Dmitri Alexandrovich. We talked about medical terminology. But, yes, in so far as the terminology was to do with perinatal mortality and the statistics were to do with comparisons between Russia and other countries and between rich cities like Moscow and poor ones like Kursk, yes, questions of justice were implicit, and, yes, if you press the questions far enough they do require answers which in the end are political. Was that what you wanted to ask me, Dmitri Alexandrovich? Because if it was, you’ve had your answer and now I suggest you leave.’
‘Don’t get annoyed!’ said Dmitri.
‘Well, I am annoyed, because it sounds as if you’re trying to get me to incriminate myself.’
‘I’m not,’ said Dmitri. ‘It’s just the way lawyers talk. Or, at least, Examining Magistrates talk.’
‘It’s the assumptions that lie behind what you say!’
‘I’m not assuming anything. I’m trying to find out what happened to Anna Semeonova. At first I thought something dreadful must have happened. But if it had, I think by now we would have found the body. So perhaps she went off of her own accord. But why and where to? Or, rather, who to? A boyfriend? But everyone assures me that is not so. Some other friend, then? We have been round them all. And in the end, Vera Samsonova, I have come to you.’
‘I hardly count as a friend.’
‘That will be a relief to Larissa Philipovna. But since it is clear that Anna Semeonova did not come to you, it means that we have once again