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Dukovski asked Psyekoff. "Yellow crash." "Excellent! You see they wore blue!" A few twigs of the burdock were cut off, and carefully wrapped in paper by the investigators. At this point Police Captain Artsuybasheff Svistakovski and Dr. Tyutyeff arrived. The captain bade them "Good day!" and immediately began to satisfy his curiosity.
After resting awhile and considering, you carried him across the fence. Then you entered the road. After that comes the dam. Near the dam, a peasant frightened you. Well, what is the matter with you?" "I am suffocating!" replied Psyekoff. "Very well have it so. Only let me go out, please!" They led Psyekoff away. "At last! He has confessed!" cried Chubikoff, stretching himself luxuriously.
Tell him to come over here! Wait; I'll write him a note!" The inspector posted sentinels around the wing, wrote a letter to the examining magistrate, and then went over to the director's for a glass of tea. Ten minutes later he was sitting on a stool, carefully nibbling a lump of sugar, and swallowing the scalding tea. "There you are!" he was saying to Psyekoff; "there you are!
The retiring young man was not pleased when they got the better of him, you see! His vanity, don't you see? He wanted revenge. Then, those thick lips of his suggest passion. So there you have it: wounded self-love and passion. That is quite enough motive for a murder. We have two of them in our hands; but who is the third? Nicholas and Psyekoff held him, but who smothered him?
His hands trembled and his eyes were full of terror. "Whom have I the honor of addressing?" asked the inspector. "Psyekoff, Lieutenant Klausoff's agent; agriculturist and mechanician!" The inspector and his deputy, on visiting the scene of the occurrence in company with Psyekoff, found the following: Near the wing in which Klausoff had lived was gathered a dense crowd.
There was much commotion and talk. Here and there, pale, tear-stained faces were seen. The door of Klausoff's bedroom was found locked. The key was inside. "It is quite clear that the scoundrels got in by the window!" said Psyekoff as they examined the door. They went to the garden, into which the bedroom window opened. The window looked dark and ominous. It was covered by a faded green curtain.
It was not Nicholas that struck it; it was not Psyekoff, for neither of them had any matches when they were examined; it was the third person, Maria Ivanovna. I will prove it to you. Just give me permission to go through the district to find out." "That's enough! Sit down. Let us go on with the examination." Dukovski sat down at a little table, and plunged his long nose in a bundle of papers.
The inspector posted sentinels around the wing, wrote a letter to the examining magistrate, and then went over to the director's for a glass of tea. Ten minutes later he was sitting on a stool, carefully nibbling a lump of sugar, and swallowing the scalding tea. "There you are!" he was saying to Psyekoff; "there you are!
Dukovski poured himself out a glass of vodka, rose, drew himself up, and said, with sparkling eyes: "Well, learn that the third person, who acted in concert with that scoundrel Psyekoff, and did the smothering, was a woman! Yes-s! I mean the murdered man's sister, Maria Ivanovna!" Chubikoff choked over his vodka, and fixed his eyes on Dukovski. "You aren't what's-its-name?
"Ah, Marcus Ivanovitch, Marcus Ivanovitch!" sighed the inspector, looking at the window, "I told you you would come to a bad end! I told the dear man, but he wouldn't listen! Dissipation doesn't bring any good!" "Thanks to Ephraim," said Psyekoff; "but for him, we would never have guessed. He was the first to guess that something was wrong.
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