Pavel wrinkled his forehead and put away his pen. He listened for a while, wrinkled his face again, jumped up from his chair, and strode to his door.
“Sofia,” he cried out loud. “You are not singing properly. You hit the wrong note with that high one. And you Nadya,” he addressed the lady played the piano, “you are constantly playing as if you are in a hurry, as if someone is pulling you by your fingers. It should be played trum-trum-trum.”
Pavel gestured in the air with his hands as he demonstrated how they should be singing and playing the song.
A few minutes later, humming the tune that his wife was singing, he returned to his room and continued with his writing:
“Both men, Mr. Winkle and Mr. Ushakov, were young, close to the same age; they were friends who worked in the same office. Mr. Ushakov was shy and humble. Mr. Winkle was the complete opposite of his friend: he had a reputation for being rude, animallike, with terrible habits, and insatiable when it came to satisfying his own desires. He was so outlandish and selfish at times that some thought he was mentally unstable.
“How two such completely opposite characters, Mr. Winkle and Mr. Ushakov, could be friends was hard to understand. They had only one thing in common: they both were rich.
“Ushakov was the only son of a single rich mother; Winkle was the only heir of a huge estate through his aunt, a general’s widow who loved him as her only son. Money can be a good connector factor in a relationship; and it was in this case. They both wasted money on all their whims, such as beautiful women, expensive clothes, cab fare, etc., and lived in such a way that made people jealous. Indeed, it was money that united them.
“The friendship between Mr. Ushakov and Mr. Winkle did not last long. They became bitter enemies one day, when they simultaneously fell in love with an exotic dancer, Ms. Wholly, a very self-absorbed but very attractive woman, famous for her luxurious hair. She managed to become intimate with both men for their money, at almost the same time. This pretty woman was savvy and practical enough to know that the best way to get money out of her lover, or both lovers in this case, was to arouse their jealousy.
“The modest Ushakov simply looked at his rival with disgust, but the rude and wild Winkle gave in to his worst instincts.”
At this moment, a voice from the living room called,
“Come here, Pavel.”
Pavel jumped up from his chair, and proceeded next door to the ladies.
“Come, sing a duo with Michael. You sing the first voice, and he will sing the second one.”
“All right, give me the pitch.” Pavel walked to the piano, waved with his pen, which was still wet with ink, stamped his foot a couple of times, made a suffering face, and started singing “Those Crazy Nights” with the university student.
“Bravo! Bravo! We were both great!” He embraced the student. “Do you want me to sing more? No, the hell with singing! I have to get back to my writing.”
“Give us a break. Don’t be shy! Stay and sing!”
“No-no-no! I promised. My deadline for this short story is today.”
Pavel threw both his hands in the air, ran back to his study, and continued writing:
“One night at about 10 p.m., when Mr. Ushakov was on duty in the office, Mr. Winkle sneaked into the office building through the back door, entered the room quietly behind his former friend, and hit him with a little axe, right on the back of his head.
“It was obvious that at the moment of the murder he had been in a terrible fit of rage, as the medical experts found eleven wounds in the head of Mr. Ushakov. He wasn’t thinking logically before, during, or after the murder. As soon as he had eliminated his rival, covered with blood, with an axe in his hands, he climbed up to the little attic of the office building, and, then climbed through the little window all the way onto the roof. The security guards heard that someone was walking on the iron roof late that night. From the rooftop, he went down the eaves until he reached the roof of the neighboring house. And so he continued on from one roof to another, until they caught up with him.
“The whole city came to the funeral of Mr. Ushakov, filled with music and flowers.
“The public outcry was against the murderer to such an extent that people came in crowds to look at the prison wall behind which Mr. Winkle was incarcerated. Two or three days after the murder, a small monument appeared on the grave of the murdered man, with the inscription, ‘He died at the hand of a murderer.’
“But the person who was the most distressed over his death was his mother. When the poor woman found out about her son’s death, she almost went crazy.”
Pavel Sergeevich wrote one more page, smoked two cigarettes, had a nap on his couch, then returned to his desk, to continue:
“The old woman, Mrs. Ushakov, was brought into to court and gave her testimony from the witnesses’ bench. The listeners reported that her testimony was brief. She turned to the bench of the accused, trembling, and addressed him, shaking both fists at him, and cried,
“‘You killed my son, it was you!’
“‘I don’t deny it,’ mumbled Mr. Winkle, addressing the judge.
“‘You can’t deny it! You killed him!’ cried the old woman.
“After her, the old general’s widow, Mr. Winkle’s aunt, came to courtroom to give her testimony. She looked senselessly around herself for several minutes, and then asked her nephew in a tone of voice that made everyone in the courtroom suddenly tremble,
“‘Nicholas, what have you done?’
After that, she was not able to speak.
The appearance of both women in court had a very depressing effect on the public.
When these two old women met outside in the courthouse corridors, they caused such an emotional scene that even the court couriers had tears in their eyes.
The old woman, Mrs. Ushakov, who had become very bitter after all her misfortunes, jumped closer to the general’s widow, and started scolding her. Her previous testimony was brief in court; however, in the hall she started talking and shouting at the old widow, using all kinds of swear words. She reproached her, she swore at her; she made all kinds of references to God’s punishment, etc.
Mrs. Winkle listened very patiently, without saying a word, until Mrs. Ushakov was finished, and then said,
“‘Have mercy, please! We have already been punished!’ Then, she could not bear it any more, and began to answer the accusations.
“‘If this were not for your son, my Nicholas would not have been sitting here. It was your son who destroyed him, etc.,’ she cried.
“They pulled the two old women to opposite sides of the hallway.
“The jury found Mr. Winkle guilty, and sentenced him to ten years of hard labor.”
“‘You know that Nikonov has a wonderful voice, a very nice-sounding voice indeed, a deep bass. Yes, a very nice-sounding voice,’ Pavel overheard his wife telling one of the guests. ‘I can’t understand my dear, why does he sing in the opera?’
“Pavel made a face, jumped up, and ran into the living room.
“‘You said that Nikonov has a good bass?’
“‘Yes, he does.’
“‘Then my dear, you do not understand anything.’ Pavel shrugged his shoulders. ‘Nikonov sings like a cow; growls like a dog; and neighs in a horselike voice, as if someone were pulling out his intestines. His voice is wobbly like a cork in an empty bottle. I cannot explain it to you in any plainer terms; your Nikonov has the same musical pitch as these springs in my sofa.’
“‘Hmm, they say Nikonov is a singer!’ he muttered indignantly, as he came back to his desk five minutes later and sat down to read what he just written. ‘Nikonov should be a street singer, not an opera singer.’”
Irritated, he grabbed his pen and continued to write:
“The old general’s widow, Mrs. Winkle, went to St. Petersburg, the capital, in an attempt to get his punishment reduced, so that her nephew would not be embarrassed so in public. During her absence, Mr. Winkle managed to escape from prison.”