Dimiter Read Free

It’s Selca!” and “How in the world could I have possibly forgotten!” Then he started to study our fellow intently and a curious look came over his face and he told us though he didn’t know how it could have happened, but he’d somehow made an error, for until that moment it had slipped his mind that Selca Decani had been dead for many years, and that our fellow looked nothing like Decani at all. What made his mistake so amazing, he told us, was that he had known Decani quite well and had been saddened and depressed by his death for many months. It was all very strange.
    Q. To say the least. And then?
    A. Oh, well, as we were hurrying and still in pursuit of the baker, I suggested that our fellow be kept in Quelleza, but the commandant and commissar quickly said no and they advised me to take our fellow with us to Shkoder, which we finally did and then gave him to your Secret Police, the Sigurimi. They seemed very nervous.
    Q. The Secret Police?
    A. No, the people at Quelleza. They seemed very anxious to be rid of the fellow.
    Q. Did it never occur to you that the Prisoner might be the would-be assassin of Mehmet Shehu you were sent there to find in the first place?
    A. Oh, well, of course, but we were told that he’d been captured near the Buna.
    Q. And who told you that?
    A. The people at Quelleza.
    Q. From Quelleza to Shkoder, did the Prisoner speak or in any way give you information?
    A. He did not. He didn’t speak at any time. Not a word.
    Q. And what else did you notice about him that was unusual?
    A. Oh, well, one thing, perhaps. While we were marching-back to Shkoder we stopped in the middle of the day at Mesi and lunched in a courtyard next to the jail. It was un-seasonably warm and humid, so we rested. One of my men played the lute and we sang. We’d chained the Prisoner’s legs to an apricot tree and I kept staring at him.
    Q. Why?
    A. There were swarms of mosquitoes biting. They were biting rather fiercely, in fact.
    Q. And what of that?
    A. He never slapped at them.
    Q. His hands were free?
    A. Yes, they were free.
    Q. Very well. Now then, earlier you stated that his papers seemed in order.
    A. So I thought.
    Q. And he never did actually resist arrest?
    A. No, not really.
    Q. So again I ask, why did you club him with your rifle? I mean some reason besides an odd look in his eyes. Did you think he was holding a gun or a knife beneath the blanket?
    A. No, he wasn’t holding anything.
    Q. Then why did you strike him?
    A. I was afraid.
    Q. Afraid of what?
    A. When I yanked off the blanket I saw blood on his hand. I mean the hand that I hadn’t seen before, the right one. It was gashed as if by the teeth of some animal.
    Q. And this made you feel afraid?
    A. It did.
    Q. For what reason?
    A. I thought of the dog with the broken neck.
     
    EXCERPT FROM THE QUESTIONING OF THE BLIND MAN,
LIGENI SHIRQI, TAKEN AT QUELLEZA 12 OCTOBER
     
Q. Your door was unlocked?
    A. Yes, it was. I heard the knocking and I called out, “Come in, you are welcome.”
    Q. You didn’t think it dangerous?
    A. Danger is irrelevant. Things are different here. It’s not like below. Had he killed my own children, I had to make him welcome. “I live in the house,” goes the saying, “but the house belongs to the guest and to God.”
    Q. There is no God.
    A. No, not in the city, perhaps, Colonel Vlora, but right now we are up in the mountains and our general impression here is that he exists.
    Q. Do maintain the proprieties, Uncle.
    A. Does that help?
    Q. Only facing reality helps.
    A. I would face it,
effendum
, but where is it? As you know, in my world I must be turned.
    Q. You were saying . . .
    A. I called out, “You are welcome,” and I heard him come in. A torrent of rain gusted in, a great blow, and as it thundered I could feel the flash of lightning on my skin. It came suddenly, this storm, like an unexpected grief. I got up and I greeted the stranger as I should: I said, “God may have—”
    Q. Never mind all that.