von Päumann?”
“I most certainly do, and if it hasn’t died off altogether, we will take the necessary measures to make sure it does so soon. You would not, surely, be comparing Czech to the greatness of the German language?”
“Jawohl, Herr von Päumann, natürlich. Without a doubt. Now, then, is there anybody else I have to keep an eye on?”
“You have talked of her admirers. Is it possible that she has any lovers?”
“Bitte?”
“Do you know anything about this writer’s possible lovers?”
“Well, I’m not altogether sure. Even though . . . I would say . . . ”
“You must clear up this doubt. It is essential. Quickly.”
“You know . . . In fact, I . . . ”
“Auf Wiedersehen, Fräulein.”
Němcová has friends who are important scientists. She has close female friends who are ladies from rich and influential families, and who knows if some of these people might not also be lovers of hers. And with all of them she is scheming against the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Very well. People must either be coddled or thoroughly annihilated. They would take revenge if only slightly wounded, but would be unable to do so at all if wounded seriously, which is why the wound that we inflict on a person must be of the sort that prevents him from taking revenge. That’s what Machiavelli said. Accordingly, we shall put an end to Němcová’s friendships. She will have no more financial backers, nobody to give her enough change to buy a loaf of bread. Her lovers, if she has any, will abandon her. Her female friends will want nothing further to do with her. You have underestimated us, my dear. In fact, we don’t have to do anything except have the police keep a protective eye on you. We don’t have to lift so much as a little finger and your Czechs will end up helping us achieve our goals, the same Czechs for whom you always sacrifice yourself. Yes, the Czechs, those cowardly people! Nobody will be left, only this informer, she’ll be there for you! And for us, naturally. To achieve final victory, one must be implacable, that was Napoleon’s motto.
What a disagreeable creature, that Fräulein Zaleski. Had she been born in another era or into another family, she would not need to earn her living as a spy, and could dedicate herself entirely to culture and to writing, like Němcová. But she was born into a nation without a future, into an impoverished family. You only have to look at her, a glance even. A horrible sight. Like watching an insect squirming in a cobweb.
Why does she always blink nervously, look away, and shiver all over whenever she hears the word “lover?” It can’t just be envy. Clearly, she must be planning something.
I should get rid of her as soon as I can. Misfortune is as contagious as cholera.
The doctor is late. It is a full half hour since the appointed time. She had taken off her clothes, then put them back on again, and is now on the lookout for him, her forehead resting against the windowpane. Even the milk and the post have arrived. On the street there is a boy looking up at her window, as if he were searching for someone. He is carrying some sky-blue object, like a bunch of forget-me-nots, or a shawl given to him by a lady breathless from dancing at a society ball. That sky-blue paper in his hand troubles her. Yes, the boy enters her house, climbs the staircase, knocks at the door.
“Good morning. I am to give you this.”
She invites him in, but the boy doesn’t have time. He is already running down the stairs and she will never know who . . . what . . .
The blue envelope burns her fingers as if it were a lit match. She passes it from one hand to the other before placing it on the table.
She picks it up firmly and goes out, to throw it into the Vltava. She is in a hurry to get rid of it. She knows only too well what is in it. A message: the treatment is over. And a cold wish: stay healthy. Instead of a signature, two initials: H.J. They are so clear, as if printed in a cloud, with calligraphical ornamentation at the end. She is standing on a bridge, and inside her who knows what awakens . . . who knows what kind of animal. Yes, an animal that stretches its neck out