One did not forget the man responsible for the poor, mangled corpses of so many shopgirls, who suffered so horribly and were left in lonely gutters like ripped up bread crusts.
"I do remember Grigoriev. A monster and a coward. A man who could only hurt little girls, alone in the world. And yet, let me guess. He feels wronged by the system. And by me, especially."
To many, Grigoriev might have been a prime suspect in any killing, but these particular murders did not fit his MO in Liadov's opinion.
That didn't mean he was thrilled to find him here.
"I objected when he was moved from Magadan," said Liadov, "in favor of transfer to a Psikhushka."
He paused, smiled humorlessly.
"Even though odds are he was punished much more severely there."
The Nut-house was a special kind of camp, and since the disbanding of the labor camps with de-Stalinization, it was common for political prisoners and criminals to be sent there, along with the insane. For the insane, it was merely an institution. For the others, it was psychological torture.
"So obviously, comrade, I am deeply chagrined to hear that he has been released and rewarded for his ugly deeds."
Liadov frowned, sitting back in his chair.
"And you did this."
He remained thoughtful for a moment.
"The painter," he said, shrugging, "I don't recall."
Krauss' warning was cryptic and almost gloating, to Nika's ears, but what could one expect from a former SS man?
"I appreciate the notice," he said. "But if I went into a swoon every time a man I'd convicted wanted me dead, I'd never get anything done. And believe me, I do plenty."
He set down the open ivory box on Krauss' desk with a light, decisive snick.
"Funny how it always seems to be the reprehensibly guilty ones who cry foul. A bunch of petulant weaklings. They never simply take their medicine as deserved by their transgression. And yet someone like Kassian Irinarhov is punished for technically being a moral citizen- and he takes it with Russian stoicism. Tell me why that is, Major."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-03-31 06:23 pm (UTC)One did not forget the man responsible for the poor, mangled corpses of so many shopgirls, who suffered so horribly and were left in lonely gutters like ripped up bread crusts.
"I do remember Grigoriev. A monster and a coward. A man who could only hurt little girls, alone in the world. And yet, let me guess. He feels wronged by the system. And by me, especially."
To many, Grigoriev might have been a prime suspect in any killing, but these particular murders did not fit his MO in Liadov's opinion.
That didn't mean he was thrilled to find him here.
"I objected when he was moved from Magadan," said Liadov, "in favor of transfer to a Psikhushka."
He paused, smiled humorlessly.
"Even though odds are he was punished much more severely there."
The Nut-house was a special kind of camp, and since the disbanding of the labor camps with de-Stalinization, it was common for political prisoners and criminals to be sent there, along with the insane. For the insane, it was merely an institution. For the others, it was psychological torture.
"So obviously, comrade, I am deeply chagrined to hear that he has been released and rewarded for his ugly deeds."
Liadov frowned, sitting back in his chair.
"And you did this."
He remained thoughtful for a moment.
"The painter," he said, shrugging, "I don't recall."
Krauss' warning was cryptic and almost gloating, to Nika's ears, but what could one expect from a former SS man?
"I appreciate the notice," he said. "But if I went into a swoon every time a man I'd convicted wanted me dead, I'd never get anything done. And believe me, I do plenty."
He set down the open ivory box on Krauss' desk with a light, decisive snick.
"Funny how it always seems to be the reprehensibly guilty ones who cry foul. A bunch of petulant weaklings. They never simply take their medicine as deserved by their transgression. And yet someone like Kassian Irinarhov is punished for technically being a moral citizen- and he takes it with Russian stoicism. Tell me why that is, Major."