The Case of Comrade Tulayev (New York Review Books Classics)

by Victor Serge

For a moment the silence of the prison fell upon them all. The important people were calculating the consequences: responsibility to be established, the investigation to be begun over again from a different angle, the Chief to be told — what was the Tulayev case to be tied to now? “In whose charge was the prisoner?” Popov asked, without looking at anyone — because he knew very well. “In Comrade Zvyeryeva’s,” answered the Deputy High Commissar for Security, Gordeyev. “Did you have him given a medical examination when he arrived, Comrade Zvyeryeva? Have you been receiving daily reports on his condition and his attitude?” “I thought … No …” Popov’s reproach burst out: “Do you hear that, Gordeyev, do you hear that?” Swept on by his anger, he was the first to hurry out of the cell. He almost ran, feebly, like an overlarge puppet; but it was he who dragged along the imposing Gordeyev by an invisible thread. Zvyeryeva was the last to leave. As she passed Arkhipov, the soldier, she felt that he gave her a look of hatred.