all had the same foolish headline—”Self Himself”—and the pictures showed me always with the same wide eyes and awkward grin. But even this didn't wake me up. I continued moving the pictures and articles around, failing each time, until the sun woke me.
“We want to set up an interrogation on Sunday. We'd like to talk to you one more time before you are brought before the judge.” Dr. Franz was again sporting his affable smile. Nägelsbach was sitting next to him unhappily, Bleckmeier looked glum, and Rawitz had grown even fatter, holding his paunch in place with folded hands. “Unfortunately we had a silly little slipup, and your arrest was entered on Saturday instead of Friday. As a result, we couldn't secure the judge yesterday and will have to do it today. We'd be grateful if you wouldn't mind considering yourself as having been arrested on Saturday.”
Had Nägelsbach entered me under the wrong day? Was that why he was looking so unhappy? I didn't want to cause him any problems, and waiting an additional day for a hearing before a judge didn't make much difference to me. But what was I to make of the prosecuting attorney's “as if” philosophy?
“I will be brought before the judge as if I'd been arrested yesterday. I am being accused of obstruction of justice as if a sentence for Frau Salger is imminent for a crime she committed in Käfertal. An attack in Viernheim is going to be handled as if it had occurred in Käfertal. Wouldn't you say there are a few too many 'as ifs' here?”
Rawitz unclasped his hands and turned to Franz. “There's no point. Let him tell the judge whatever he wants to. If the judge decides to release him, we'll just bring him in again. And don't worry, we'll purge him of that Käfertal-Viernheim nonsense by the time of the hearing.”
“You have arrested one of the men and are intending to put him on trial,” I said. “Are you intending to convict him of a crime he didn't commit? Are you—”
“The crime, the crime,” Franz interrupted me impatiently. “What a strange notion of crime you have. It is the charge that generates the crime. The charge scoops up a few specifics from the infinite and overwhelming flood of occurrences, activities, and actions, and puts them together into what we call the crime. One man shoots, another falls dead, at the same time birds are chirping, cars go by, bakers are baking, and you're lighting a cigarette. The charge knows what it is that counts. The charge turns the shot and the dead man into a murder, and neglects everything else.”
“One man shoots, you say, and another falls dead—but the attack was not in Käfertal but in Viernheim. Käfertal is neither here nor there.”
“Oh, yes?” Rawitz said sarcastically. “Käfertal is neither here nor there? So where is Käfertal, then?”
“A place is one thing, and what happens at a place is another,” Bleckmeier jumped in. “What is punished is what happens, not the place.” He looked at us uncertainly and, when there was no reaction, added, “so to speak.”
“The place is neither here nor there and isn't punishable,” Rawitz said. “How long do I have to listen to this bullshit? It's Sunday, and I want to go home.”
“Bullshit?” Bleckmeier was prepared to take quite a lot, but not that.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Franz said soothingly, “let us forget the philosophical questions of space and time. You, too, Herr Self, have more important issues you should be thinking about. You are right, we have arrested someone. He has confessed to the attack in Käfertal and will also confess in court. Furthermore, we will have the statements of our German officials and our American friends. Let us leave the pointless preliminaries and come to you and Frau Salger.”
“Could you have the envelope brought here that arrived for me this morning?” I asked. I had found out from the officer who had brought me to the questioning that the folder Brigitte had sent me had arrived, but that it was going to be given to me on Monday, after inspection by the court. “You, of course, are authorized to open and view it without a judge.”
After some back and forth Franz had the folder brought in, opened it, and took out a copy of the American file.
“Go ahead, read it,” I said.
He read it, and his mouth tightened. After he read each page he handed it to Rawitz, who then handed it on to Bleck-meier and