Chapter 5 Chapter 3 Investigation-2

--Ten years have passed since then, and then fifteen years have passed.Grass has grown over my boyhood grave.The sentence has been served, and even the lifelong exile is over.But no matter where——whether in the "Wenbi Education" of the labor camp, in the district library, or even in the medium-sized cities—I have never seen it, never held it in my hand, and cannot buy it. Can't get or even ask about the code of the USSR!Moreover, among the millions of prisoners whom I have been acquainted with who have been scouted, courted, and more than once reformed and exiled--none of them have ever seen a code in their eyes, or held a code in their hands! (Those who are well acquainted with the suspicious atmosphere in our country understand: Why can't you inquire about the Code in the People's Court or the District Executive Committee. Your interest in the Code will be an extraordinary phenomenon: either you are preparing to commit a crime, or want to obliterate the trace of it!)

Only when the two codes ended the last days of their thirty-five years of existence, only when they were due to be replaced by new ones--only then did I see them in the sales cases of the Moscow Metro, both Paperback little brothers, yk and yllK (decided to release them since they were useless). I am now deeply moved to read it.For example, the Penal Code states: Article 136 - An investigator has no right to coerce the accused by means of violence and threats Confession or confession. (How clearly foreseen!) Article 111--An investigator must also ascertain the circumstances which exonerate the accused,

and mitigating circumstances. ("I established Soviet power during the October Revolution! . . . I shot Kolchak! . . . I liquidated the kulaks! . . . I saved the state ten million rubles! . . . Twice wounded in war! . . . I've been decorated three times! . . . " We're not judging you for this--History gapes the investigator's teeth,--you did a good thing--it's irrelevant to the merits). Article 139 - The defendant has the right to write a statement in his own hand and to request that the investigator Written transcripts were corrected. (Ah, if only we had known this in time! To be more precise: if it was true! But as if begging for grace, we always beg in vain to ask the investigator not to write "my slander" instead of " My wrong statement", don't write "our underground arsenal" instead of "my rusty Finnish knife").

Ah, if only a lesson in prison was given to the person under investigation!How nice it would be to have a rehearsal for the investigative work and come back later! . . . No such investigative tricks were played on the second prisoner in 1948—because it was a waste of effort.But those who are new to prison have no experience and no knowledge.And there is no one to discuss with. The solitude of the man under investigation! - This is yet another condition for the success of an unjust investigation!The whole institution springs upon itself to destroy this lonely, oppressed will.From the moment of arrest, and throughout the initial assault of the investigation, the prisoner should be in ideal solitude: in his cell, in the corridor, on the stairs, in the interrogation room—wherever he is. You should not have contact with your own kind, and you should not get sympathy, advice, or support from anyone's smile or gaze.The authorities tried their best to cover up his future and distort his present: all his relatives and friends were said to have been arrested, and all physical evidence was said to have been found.Exaggerating the possibility of sanctioning him and his loved ones, exaggerating his right to pardon (which the agency simply does not have).Link the sincere "sea reform" with reduced sentences and treatment in labor camps (this link does not exist at all).During the short period when the prisoner is in shock, suffering, and losing self-control, get as many irrevocable confessions from him as possible, and bring in as many innocent people as possible (some of them are so depressed that level, and even begged not to read the transcripts to them, I can’t stand it, sign it! Sign it!) - only after that, let him go from the single cell to the big cell, where he will regret it It is too late to discover and reflect on your own mistakes.

How can one not make mistakes in this duel?Who can not make mistakes? We said "should be in ideal solitude".But in 1937 (four or five years) when the prison was overcrowded, the ideal solitude of the newly arrested man could not be observed.Prisoners are kept in densely populated group cells almost from the first hours. But it also has its advantages and can make up for the shortcomings.The overcrowding of the cell not only replaces the small isolation room, it is itself a kind of high-level torture, which is particularly valuable because this kind of torture lasts for several days and nights and weeks—and the investigators do not need to spend any effort: Torture of prisoners was not performed by the prisoners themselves!Cells were packed with so many prisoners that not everyone was given a small space, people stepped on people, they couldn't even move places at all, they sat on each other's feet - for example, in Kish in 1945 Eighteen people were crammed into a single cell in Nyov's prison, in Luhansk in 1937 - fifteen, and Ivanov-Razumnik in 1938 Squatting among 140 people in the Butyrka standard cell with a capacity of 25 people.He writes well about life in the cell.The toilets are so crowded that they are only allowed to relieve themselves once a day and night, sometimes even in the middle of the night.He once calculated in the "kennel" of the Lubinka receiving station that for several weeks, an average of three people (please add up, please arrange!) should be placed in the "kennel" per square meter of ground at the same time, There are no windows or ventilation, the temperature is as high as forty to forty-five degrees due to body temperature and breathing, everyone wears only a pair of village trousers (winter clothes are padded under their bodies), their naked bodies are crowded together, due to the sweat of others , The skin has eczema.They squatted there for weeks, with neither air nor water (except rotten vegetable soup and a cup of tea in the morning).

The newly arrested prisoners in Butyrka this year (who have already been treated in the bathrooms and isolation cells) sat on the steps of the stairs for days and nights, waiting for the released prisoners to vacate their cells.T-V had squatted in Butyrka seven years earlier, that is, in 1931. He said that the bunks were full and the prisoners were lying on the asphalt.I squatted seven years later in 1945—the same situation.But not long ago I got a valuable personal testimonial from M? K. Bo-Che about the congestion in Butirka in 1918: in October of that year (the second month of the Red Terror), the crowd It was so full that a women's cell for seventy people was set up in the laundry room!So, when did Butyrka pass?

If you add toilets instead of toilets (or vice versa, there are no toilets in cells between toilets and toilets, as in some prisons in Siberia); if you add meals to four people a bowl, and sit on each other's knees; if now someone is pulled out for interrogation, and now someone is pushed in, beaten, weary, and limp; if these limp people look more threatening than any investigator more convincing; a man who has waited months without arraignment will find any kind of death, any kind of labor camp, to seem much more relaxed than their contorted posture--this kind of kind may well substitute for the ideal Alone?And in such a mess of people, it's hard to make up your mind who to tell your heart to, and it's not always possible to find someone who can discuss things.So with regard to torture and beatings, when the investigators threaten them, you don't necessarily believe them immediately, but once you see people who have been tortured, you believe them.

Victims themselves will tell you how to pour salt water down their throats and then suffer from thirst all day and night in an isolation cell (Kalbnich), or how to wipe their back with a scouring pad until it bleeds and then smear turpentine (Rudolf? Brigadier Pintsov tasted both, and stuck needles into his nails, watered him until his stomach burst--made him sign a note admitting that he wanted to take the tanks out at the October Revolution parade. brigade to government leaders).From Aleksandrov, former director of the art department of the All-Union of Natural Scientists, it is known how Abakumov himself beat someone (1948), Aleksandrov was broken in the spine , leaning to one side, he lost the ability to suppress tears.

Yes, yes, Minister of State Security Abakumov himself does not disdain such rough work (see Suvorov at the front!), He likes to hold a rubber stick sometimes.His deputy, Liu Ming, was more willing to hit people.He did this in the investigative office of the "General" at Sukhanovka.The office had walnut wainscoting, silk curtains on the windows and doors, and a large Persian rug on the floor.In order not to spoil this beauty, a long, dirty, blood-stained mat was spread over the carpet for the person who was about to be beaten.It was not an ordinary guard but a colonel who served as Liuming's assistant during the torture.Liuming stroked the rubber stick with a diameter of four centimeters, and said politely: "So, you have withstood the test of the eagle with honor (you were not allowed to sleep for a month, Alexander Dolgan survived by playing tricks) --he sleeps standing up). Now let's try with a stick. None of us can last two or three rounds here. Please take down your trousers, please lie on the mat." The colonel rode on the back of the beaten man.Dolgan wanted to count the number of blows.He still doesn't know what it feels like to be hit on the sciatic nerve with a rubber club when his buttocks have collapsed due to long-term starvation.It wasn't the place where I was hit that hurt, it was a splitting headache.After the first blow, the victim loses his mind in pain and scratches at the mat with his fingernails.Liuming continued to play, trying to hit the point.The colonel pressed down hard with his fat body - exactly what a man with three big gold stars on his epaulets should do as an assistant to the all-powerful Ryumin! (After one fight, the person who was beaten could not walk. Of course, he was not lifted out, but dragged out on the ground. The buttocks were so painful that he couldn't button his pants very quickly, but the scars were almost gone. There was an attack Severe diarrhea, but Dolgan sat on the toilet in his single cell and laughed. He had to go to the second and third rounds. He was punched in the stomach, the peritoneum was broken, the intestines flowed out and caused a severe hernia, he got peritonitis, he was taken to the municipal hospital of Tilka, and the attempts to force him to do immoral things were temporarily suspended.)

You too will suffer from this torture!After this scene, Danilov, Kishinev's scout, hit Father Viktor Hipovarnikov on the back of the head with a cleaning stick, and pulled it by the braids of his hair, almost like a father caresses (for priests this is more convenient, for ordinary laymen you can grab the beard and drag it from one corner of the office to the other. And for Lihard Ahola, a member of the Finnish Red Guards, the pursuit of Sidney Raleigh's participation Year after year when he suppressed the uprising in Kronstadt—the first method was to lift him up with pliers by one end of his mustache, and then the other end for ten minutes each, keeping his feet from touching the ground. ).

But the most terrible thing is to deal with you in the following way: take off your lower body clothes, make you lie on the ground on your back, legs apart, helpers (lovely sergeants) sit on the laps, grab your hands, The scout—women don't dislike this kind of thing—stands between your spread legs and puts the toe of his shoe (his loafer) on that thing that at one time made you a man, gradually, Press down on the ground sparingly, but harder and harder, looking you in the eye and repeating your own question or the Seller's suggestion over and over again.If he hadn't stepped on a little harder prematurely, you'd still have fifteen seconds to cry out that you confessed everything, that you were determined to send the twenty you bitten to jail, or to slander anyone in the press. What you hold most sacred... Let God not people blame you... The "eyes and ears" sent into the cell said softly: "There is no way! Let's call them all!" A clear-headed person said: "Simple calculation: keep the green hills...!" The person who has no teeth nods to you: "They will not give you teeth in the future." Those who knew the details came to the conclusion: "Whether you confess or not, you will be sentenced anyway." Someone else prophesied in the corner: "Those who don't sign will be shot! In order to retaliate, in order to leave no trace of what they did during the investigation." If you die in the interrogation room, they will announce to the relatives: "Sentenced to a labor camp and deprived of communication rights." Let them go find it. If you are an orthodox, then another orthodox will come close, look around with hostility, lest outsiders overhear, and start working on you enthusiastically: "We are obliged to support the Soviet investigative work. There are battles all around us. We blame ourselves: we are too soft-hearted, so this rotten thing breeds in the country. There is a brutal secret war going on. Here in the People are enemies, do you hear what they say? It is not necessary for the party to report to each of us—this is why, that is why. If it is required, it should be signed." And another orthodox creeps up and says: "I signed and bit out thirty-five people, and all my acquaintances. I advise you too: Name as many people as you can, and bring in as many people as you can! Then you will understand that this is bullshit , will let everyone go." This is in the hands of the agency!The spontaneity of the orthodox and the aims of the NKVD were naturally compatible.The NKVD is in need of this folding fan of the name, just in need of this enlarged reproduction of the name.It is also a sign of the quality of their work and a peg from which to throw a new lasso. "Accomplices! Accomplices! Associates of the same mind!"--forcing everyone to confess. (It is said that P. Raloff confessed that Cardinal Richelieu was his accomplice and put him in the record-no one was surprised until the interrogation of the restoration in 1956. ) Just talking about the orthodox faction, let me say a little more.For such a purge you need Stalin, but you also need a party in which most of the party members in power, up to the last issue before their own arrest and imprisonment, were mercilessly imprisoning others and exterminated following the same instructions One's own kind will be punished for handing over any friend or comrade-in-arms of yesterday.And all the big Bolsheviks who today wear the halo of victims have already served as executioners of other Bolsheviks (it goes without saying that they had all been executioners of non-Party people before that).Perhaps it was 1937 that was needed to show how worthless the worldview they ostentatiously advertised turned out to be.With this view of the world they turned Russia upside down, smashed its foundations, trampled underfoot its sacred relics, while they themselves were never threatened with such punishment in the Russia they had destabilized.Never before did the victims of the Bolsheviks between 1918 and 1936 appear so insignificant as those leading Bolshevik cadres themselves.If we examine in detail the history of the arrests in 1936-1938, the most disgusting thing is not Stalin and his accomplices, but those humiliating and ugly interrogators who have lost their previous arrogance and determination. The mental baseness shown after sex is disgusting. ...then what should we do?You -- a person who knows the pain at the touch of the skin, is weak, loves his loved ones, and is unprepared, how can he withstand it? What does it take to be stronger than a scout and this whole trap? One should walk into prison without thinking about the warm life that is left behind.At the prison gate you should say to yourself: life is over, a little earlier, but what can be done.I will never be free again, I am doomed--now or a little later, but later it will be worse, sooner.I have no more possessions.My loved ones are dead to me--and I am dead to them.My physical body is useless to me from today, it does not belong to me.Only my spirit and my conscience remain the ones I cherish and respect. Before such a prisoner--the investigative agency will tremble; Only those who cut off all thoughts of dust will win! But how do you turn your body into stone? For example, some people in Berdyaev's group were turned into puppets in the court, but there was nothing to do with him.I wanted to drag him into this trial, he was arrested twice, and he was taken (in 1922) to Dzerzhinsky for a night interrogation, where Kamenev was also sitting (it can be seen that he did not dislike ideological struggle through the Cheka).But Berdyaev did not grovel, did not sue, but firmly stated the religious and moral principles on which he did not accept the current regime in Russia, and as a result, they not only saw no advantage in bringing him to court, but released him .People have come up with a point of view! H? Stolyarova recalled in 1937 the neighbor on Butyer's card board, an old woman.Interrogate her every night.A former archbishop who had escaped from exile had stayed at her house two years earlier. "Don't say it was in the past, he is in the present! Yes, I was blessed to receive him." "Okay, then who did he go to when he came out of Moscow?" "I know, but I don't say!" (The Archbishop Fleeing to Finland through the relationship of the Christian) The investigators changed one after another, group after group, shaking their fists in front of the old woman's face, and she said to them: "You can't do anything with me, it's useless to chop it into pieces .Actually, you are afraid of the officer, of each other, and even of killing me ("the thread is broken"). But I am not afraid of anything! Just go to God at once!" In 2037, there were people like this. They didn't return from the interrogation room to the cell to pick up their bags.They chose death without implicating anyone. It cannot be said that the history of the Russian revolutionaries has given us an example of perseverance.But there is no comparison here, because our revolutionaries have never seen such really good detective work with fifty-two methods. Sheshkovsky did not destroy Radishev". Radishev knew very well, as was customary at the time, that his sons would remain officers of the Guards and that no one would ruin their careers. Nobody would have confiscated Radishev's hereditary estates. Yet in the course of his short two-week investigation this eminent man had renounced his faith, his book—and begged for forgiveness. Nicholas I didn't have the cleverness to take the Decembrist wives and make them scream in the adjoining office or torture the Decembrist himself, but he didn't have the need either.The investigation of the Decembrists was completely free, and the question was even sent to a solitary cell for their prior consideration.None of the Decembrists later recalled that his answers were misinterpreted.The responsibility for failing to report the "riot preparation" will not be held accountable.The relatives of the condemned were also not implicated in any way (there was a special order from the Tsar on this point).But even Ryleyev answered questions "with full frankness and without concealment."Even Pestel splintered out and testified that the comrades he had entrusted with burying the Russian Code, and those who, like Lunin, showed disdain and contempt for the Investigative Committee, had little knowledge of the location of the burial.Most of the people behaved mediocrely, quarreled with each other, and many bowed their heads and begged for forgiveness!Zavalishin put everything on Ryleyev. E? 11? Opolensky and C? 11? Trubetskoy even quickly bit out Griboyedov - this, even Nicholas I did not believe. In the "Repentance Book", Bakunin groveled in front of Nicholas I and spat in his face, thus escaping the death penalty.Spiritual insignificance?Or a trick of the revolution? It seems that those who took on the task of murdering Alexander II should have been chosen for the most self-sacrificing spirit?However, Grinevitsky died with the Tsar, while Rysakov survived and fell into the hands of the investigative agencies.That very day he had exposed the secret joint residence and the people involved in the conspiracy, and, fearing to ruin his young life, hastened to inform the government more information than he could expect from him!Remorseful and incomprehensible, he suggested "uncovering all the secrets of the anarchists". At the end of the previous century and the beginning of this century, if the person under investigation felt that the question asked was inappropriate or involved personal privacy, the gendarmerie officer immediately withdrew the question. --In Krest Prison in 1938, Zelinsky, an old political convict, was beaten like a child with his trousers stripped off, then returned to his cell and cried bitterly: "The Tsar The investigating officer who speaks to me doesn't even dare to address you!"--again and again.We know from a modern research article that the gendarmes took Lenin's What Are Our Ministers Thinking? , but the author has not been traced through it. "During the interrogation, as might be expected (emphasis added here and hereafter - author's note), the gendarmes did not learn much from Vaneyev (the student). In total he only informed They, the manuscripts found in his possession had been brought to him by a person whom he did not want to be named a few days before the search, in a large bag containing other things. The investigating officer could do nothing (what? What about the icy water up to the ankle? What about the salt water? What about the stick of Ryumin?...), the manuscript had to be sent for appraisal." In the end, nothing was found - it seems that Peresvetov himself survived years of prison life, which he could have easily enumerated, if there had been a "What Are Our Ministers Thinking?" "The keeper of the manuscript is sitting in front of the investigator, what else can the investigator do! C?11? Meligunov recalled: "It was the Tsar's prison, a prison in happy memory, and now political prisoners recall it almost with joyful feelings." There is a conceptual gap here, and here is another scale entirely.Just as the salt dealers before Ragol's time could not appreciate the speed of jet planes, no one who has not passed through the meat grinder of the Gulag receiving station cannot fully appreciate the great magic of the investigative agency. In the "Izvestia" of May 24, 1959 we can read: Yulia Rumyantseva was taken to the inner prison of the Nazi concentration camp in order to find out about her escape from the concentration camp. husband's whereabouts.She knew, but - refused to answer!To the uninformed reader, this is a paragon of heroism.For readers with harrowing experience of the Gulag, this is an example of the slowness of the investigator: instead of dying under torture, Yulia was not driven insane, but was released alive and well a month later. out! The idea that one should make one's heart like a stone was completely foreign to me then.Not only was I not ready to sever the bond of tenderness, but even the confiscation of hundreds of Faber trophy pencils at the time of arrest still haunted me for a long time.Looking back on my investigative phase later from the long prison years, I have little reason to be proud.I, of course, could have acted stronger.For the first few weeks I was bewildered and depressed.These memories didn't make me feel guilty only because, thank God, I avoided implicating anyone.But it has almost fallen to this point. Our (together with my co-accused Nicola B.) imprisonment had a childish character, although we were already officers at the front.During the war, I fought with him in two theaters, and we corresponded with each other. Knowing that the army has a system of checking letters, we couldn’t help expressing our political dissatisfaction and scolding of the wisest and wisest people almost openly in the letters. where we used the code-name of "thief" which we could see through (later when I told my case in prison, our naivety only aroused laughter and surprise. People told me that such fools would never be found again . I also believe this).Suddenly, reading my research on the case of Alexander Ulyanov, I found that they were also arrested for the same reason - for inadvertent correspondence, and only in this case in March 1887 Saved the life of Alexander III. Andrei Yushkin, a member of the assassination team, sent a candid letter to his friends in Kharkov: "I firmly believe that a most ruthless act of terror will take place (in our place), and not in the distant future ... the Red Terror is my forte...I worry about my recipient (he has written many of the same letter--author's note)...if he gets that then I get that and it's not wanted , because many capable people will be implicated." Five weeks of deliberate searches were carried out on the basis of this letter - through Kharkov, in order to discover the sender of the letter in Petersburg.Andrei Yushkin's name was not found until February 28th - and on March 1st, before the scheduled assassination, the bomber who had arrived on Nevsky Prospekt with the bomb was arrested! The office of my investigator H? H. Ezebov is tall, spacious, bright, with large windows (the "Russian" insurance company building was not built for torture) - so, taking advantage of its five-meter height, hung the mighty The four-meter-high full-body statue of the infinite master, to whom I, a small grain of sand, gave my hatred.Investigators sometimes stand in front of him and swear like a play: "For him we are willing to give up our lives! For him we are determined to lie down in the tank!" In front of this solemn altar-like statue, my purification The Leninism-like mutterings of this are pathetic, and death is all I deserve for a blasphemer. The content of our correspondence alone constituted sufficient material for sentencing both of us; from the moment they began to be placed on the desks of the operatives of the military postal inspection agency, the fate of me and Witkiewicz was sealed, and they only asked us to give them Expand the results of the battle and bring them more benefits.But even more ruthless: It's been a year and we each carry in our marching satchels a copy of Resolution 1 that we drew up at a front-line meeting so that it can be preserved under any circumstances , as long as one can survive.This "Resolution" is a powerful and succinct critique of the whole system of deceit and oppression in our country, then, as a political program should, outlines the program of reforming the life of the country, and ends with the words: "Without organization, It is impossible to accomplish all these tasks." This was a document for the founding of a new party without even the scout's far-fetched conjecture.Closely related to it are words in our correspondence about how we will conduct the "war after the war" after victory.So my scout didn't need to invent any tricks for me, he just tried his best to put a rope on everyone who I still wrote to or who wrote to me, and to find out if there were young people behind our youth group. Long Messenger.In my letters I boldly, almost recklessly expressed outrageous thoughts to men and women of my age--and my friends continued to correspond with me for some reason!Even some dubious terms can be encountered in their replies.Now Yezebov, like Porfiry Petrovich, demands a coherent explanation of all this: if we can write such things in our censored letters, what can we say in private Woolen cloth?I can't assure him that the violent remarks are all in the letter... I have to use my drowsy mind to make up some scenes of my meeting with my friends (the meeting is mentioned in the letter), and I have to make it up to be very real , it must match the tone of the letter, and it must have a little bit of politics—but after all, it is not enough for the criminal code.And to give these explanations at once, to convince my experienced investigators of my simplicity, skill, and utter frankness.To make--and that's the main thing--my lazy scout doesn't want to clean up the damned cargo I've brought in this damned box of mine--lots of "wartime diaries" written in dull hard pencil ", a diary whose handwriting is as thin as a needle, and some places have been rubbed off.These diaries are my wish as a writer.I don't trust our wonderful memory, so throughout the war years I tried to write down everything I saw (not that it was a big deal) and everything I heard from people. The whole content of what was said - about the collectivization of agriculture, about the famine in Ukraine, about 1937, because of careful habit and because I had never been bitten by the People's NKVD, it was clearly written who was to me Said.From the moment I was arrested, when the operatives threw these diaries into my suitcase, sealed it with wax, and asked me to carry the suitcase to Moscow—the red-hot pincers held my heart.You see, all these stories that used to be so natural on the line of fire, in the face of death, now reach the feet of Stalin in the office four meters high - and to my pure, heroic, rebellious comrades in arms Smells like a damp prison. It was these diaries that stressed me the most during the investigation.In order that the scouts must not work too hard on it, and not pull out the veins of the free people at the front from there - I express my regret as many times as I need, I am ashamed of myself for being politically lost Directions indicate several realizations.I was worn out by this cutting edge game--until I saw that no one was brought to confront me, until there were obvious signs of the end of the investigation, until my "war diary" was written on the fourth month. Throw it all into the bloody mouth of the Lubinka stove, where the red residue of yet another full-length novel destroyed in Roth bursts out in black butterfly soot from the top chimney. We vent right under this chimney - in a concrete box, that is the roof of the Great Lubinka, parallel to the sixth floor.The wall towering over six floors is as tall as three people.Our ears hear Moscow - car horns.And the only thing that is so wide is this chimney, the sentinel on the observation deck on the seventh floor, and this small piece of sky that just covers Lubinka. Ah, the soot!In the first May after the war it kept falling and falling.It fell so far every time we went out that we wondered if Lubinka was burning thirty years of his files.My ruined diary is but a fleeting wisp of smoke.So I recall sitting in the scout's office one cold sunny morning in March, asking the usual rough questions, taking notes, and distorting my words.The ice flakes that had formed on the wide windows were melting, and the sun shone brightly on them.Sometimes I really want to jump out of the window--even if I die. In Moscow, jump from the fifth floor to the sidewalk and smash to pieces, like our unknown pioneer in Rostov-on-the-Don from the window in my childhood. It's the same as jumping out from "No. 33".Where the windows had been frozen and thawed, the roofs of Moscow could be seen, with wisps of joyful smoke floating from them.But I didn't look there, I looked at the manuscripts, which filled the entire middle of the semi-empty thirty-square-meter office like mounds, just piled there, and hadn't been sorted out yet.In exercise books, in thick paper clips, in self-binding hard covers, piles of stapled and unstitched, or just sheets of paper, -- the manuscripts lie there, forming a buried The tomb of the human spirit, the conical apex of this tomb protrudes beyond the investigator's desk, making him almost invisible to me.Then I felt a kind of brotherly pity for the labor of the man I didn't know, who was arrested last night and whose results were thrown on the parquet floor of the torture chamber in the early hours of the morning, four meters away. High under the feet of Stalin.I sat wondering, Whose extraordinary life was brought this night to be tortured and devastated, and then burned? Ah, how many ideas and writings were buried in this building! -- A whole generation of ruined cultures.Ah, the soot from the chimney of the Binka, the soot! !The most aggrieved thing is that future generations will think that our generation is stupid, incompetent, and taciturn, but in fact it is not completely so! ... To draw a straight line, you only need to mark two points in total. Ehrenburg recalled that in 1920 the Cheka asked him a question: "Please prove that you are not Wrangel's spy." In 1950, Foma Fomich Zherezov, a well-known colonel of the Ministry of State Security, told the prisoners: "We are not going to take the trouble to prove his guilt to him (the arrested one). Let him Prove to us that he has no hostile intentions." Between this simple straight line that eats people, there are countless memories of millions of people. What an accelerated and simplified investigation!It is really unheard of by human beings in the past.机关根本不必花费力气去找寻证据！一只被逮住的家兔，吓得脸色苍白，浑身发抖，没有权利给任何人写信、给任何人打电话，从外面带进任何东西，被剥夺了睡眼、食物，没有纸张、铅笔，甚至没有钮扣，被放在办公室角落里的一张光板凳上，应当自己去找寻并向无所事事的侦查员摆出证据，证明他没有敌对的意图！如果他找不到这些证据（他从哪里能找到呢？），从而也就给了侦查机关说明他有罪的大概的证据！ 我知道一件事，有一个当过德国人俘虏的老人坐在这条光板凳上，摊开光秃的手指，终于做到了向恶魔般的侦查员证明他没有背叛祖国甚至没有这样的意图！真是一件丢脸的事！那怎么样呢，把他放了？哪有的事！--他是在布蒂尔卡而不是在特维尔林荫路上对我讲这件事的。在这种情况下，除了主要的侦查员外，又增加了第二名，他们两人同老人一起度过了一个安静的回忆往事的夜晚，然后两人一起在证人陈述上签了名，证明在这个晚上，饥饿的昏昏欲睡的老人在他们中间进行了反苏宣传！言者无意，听者有心！把老人转给第三个侦查员。这一位给他撤销了理由不足的背叛祖国的罪名，但一丝不苟地给他办好了同样的十年刑期的手续，因为他在侦查时进行反苏宣传。 侦查既然不再是查明真相，因而对侦查员们自己来说，当他们办棘手的案子的时候，是履行刽子手义务，而在办容易的案子时，则不过是消磨时间，以便取得工资。 而好办的案子始终是有的--甚至在臭名昭著的一九三七年。例如，博罗德科被控告的罪名是，他在十六年前曾经常到波兰去探望父母，并且那时没有领取出国护照（爸爸和妈妈住在离他十俄里的地方，但外交家们签字把这部分白俄罗斯地方给了波兰，而在一九二一年人们还不习惯，还照老样子往来）。侦查只用了半个小时。去过吗？--去过。--怎样去的？--骑马去。--得到了十年， KP11！（反革命活动。） 但这样的速度有点斯达汉诺夫运动的味道，而这个运动在蓝箍帽中间是没有追随者的。按照诉讼法典，任何案件的侦查期限为两个月，在发生困难的情况下，允许请求检察长延长几次期限，每次一月（检察长当然不会驳回）。因此，白费精力，不利用这种拖延，用工厂里的说法就是自己给自己哄抬定额，那是愚蠢的。侦查员们认为最有利的做法是，在每次侦查的最初突击周内，可以使使嗓子和拳头，消耗消耗意志和性格（按照维辛斯基的说法），然后就把案件拖延起来，好多积累一些省心的老案子，少一些新案子。在两个月内终结一项政治案件的侦查被认为简直是不成体统的。 国家的制度由于缺乏对干部的信任和灵活性而使本身受到惩罚。对于那些精选出来的干部也不信任：大概也要求这些人登记上下班时间，而对于传来讯问的犯人那更是必须进行登记，以便检查。为了保证得到附加工资，侦查员有什么办法呢？把自己的某个受侦查人传来，让他坐在角落里，提上个把吓唬吓唬人的问题---自己就忘记了他，只顾长时间看报，做政治学习笔记，写私人信件，互相往来串门（让传带员坐在那里替自己装样子）。侦查员坐在沙发上同前来的朋友安安静静地聊天，有时忽然想起来，便严厉地望着受侦查人说： "瞧这坏蛋！瞧他这个少见的坏蛋！好吧，没有关系，对他不吝惜这九克！" 我的侦查员还不断打电话。例如，他打电话到家里，一面用眼睛瞄着我一面跟妻子说，今天晚上要通宵审讯，天亮前不用等他回来（我丧气了：这么说，我要通宵受审讯了！）。但马上他又拨了自己情妇的电话号码，低声细语地约定现在就到她那里去过夜（好了，可以睡点觉了！-一我的心轻松了）。 这样，无缺陷的制度只能由执行者的缺陷来加以缓和。 有些求知心比较强的侦查员喜欢利用这种"空白"的审讯来扩大自己的生活经验：他们问受侦查人关于前线的情况（关于那些他们老是没有时间躺到下面去的德国坦克）；关于犯人去过的那些欧洲和海外国家的风俗习惯；关于当地的商店和商品；特别是关于外国冶游场所的规矩和各种有关女人的事情。 依照诉讼法典，检察长应当密切注视每一个侦查案件的正确进行。但在我们的时代，谁也没有在表示侦查即将终结的所谓"检察长讯问"以前看到过他。我也被带去受过这种讯问。 科托夫中校--一个平静的、保养得很好的、无个性的淡黄头发的男子，既不凶恶也不善良，一般说什么也不是，坐在桌旁，打着呵欠，第一次浏览我的案卷。他当着我的面还用了十五分钟光景的时间默默地去熟悉案情（因为这种讯问是完全不可避免的，也是要登记时间的，所以没有必要在登记的时间之外去查阅案卷，何况那样还要把案情细节在脑子里记住几个小时）。然后他抬头用冷淡的眼光瞧着墙，懒洋洋地问我对自己的供述有什么补充。 他本来应当问：我对侦查的办理过程有什么意见？有否侵害我的意志和违反法制的情形？但检察长们早就不兴这样问了。要是问了呢？要知道整个这个部的上干间房间的大楼，以及分布在苏联各地的五千所它的侦查大楼、车厢、洞穴和地屋，正是靠违反法制而存在的，因此不是我与他能把这种局面扭过来的。何况所有多少高级些的检察长都是取得本应由他们加以监督的国家安全邪门的同意才占有自己的职位的。 他的设精打采，他的息事宁人的神气，以及被这些无休无止的愚蠢案件造成的疲劳样子，不知怎地也传染给了我。因而我没有向他提出关于事实真相的问题。我只是请求改正一个过于明显的不合理的地方；本案控告的是我们两个人，但对我们的侦查却是分开的（我在莫斯科，我的朋友在前线），因此，承担诉讼的是我一人，而提出的控告则是依据第五十八条11，就是说，作为集团、组织。我审慎地请求撤销第11分条的这个附加罪名。 他又花了五分钟时间翻了翻我的案卷，喘了口气，摊开双手说： "有什么办法呢？一个人--是一人，两个人--就是人们。" 他按了一下铃，让把我带走。 不久，在五月末的一个夜晚，我的侦查员又把我传唤到那间壁炉大理石台上放着带有雕像的青铜座钟的检察长办公室里去履行"第二百零六条"，依刑诉法典条文规定，办理让受侦查人阅看案卷并作最后签名的手续。侦查员毫不怀疑会从我这里取得签名，便坐在那里急急忙忙地写起诉书了。 我打开厚夹子的封面，在封面内侧贴着一张铅印的条文，我在其中读到了令人震惊的东西：我原来在侦查的进行过程中就有权对侦查的办理不当提出申诉--而侦查员则必须把我的这些申诉依时间次序入卷！在侦查的进行过程中！而不是在侦查终结后…… Oops!这个权利，后来跟我一起坐牢的几千个囚犯中没有一个人知道。 我继续往下翻阅。我看到了自己的书信的照相复制件和不知名的注释家（如利宾大尉之流）对其中含意的完全歪曲的解释。还看到了大尉把我那小心的供词变成的夸张的谎话。最后还看到了那个不合理的地方，即我，一个单干的，却作为"集团"受控告！ 我不很果断地说："我不同意，您的侦查搞得不合规矩。" "那好吧，一切从头来吧！"他不祥地咬紧了嘴唇，"我们把你弄到关伪警的地方去。" 甚至好像已经伸出手来要夺走我的"案"卷（我马上用一根手指头把它按住）。 落日在卢宾卡五楼窗外的什么地方放射着余辉。外头是五月。办公室的窗户，像这个部所有的外窗一样，关得死死的，连冬天的糊窗纸也没有撕掉--不许外面的热气和花香冲进这些暗室。最后一道光线已从壁炉上的青铜座钟上消失，轻轻响过一遍钟声。 从头来？……看来死也比一切从头来轻松些。可是今后好歹还能希望得到某种生活（要是我当时知道竟是怎样的生活！……）。再说那个关伪警的地方是去不得的。而且，根本就不应该惹他生气，因为这关系到他将用什么调子来写起诉书…… 于是，我就签了名。连带十一分条一起签了名。当时我不知道它的份量，只是告诉我，它并不增添刑期。由于这十一分条我陷进了苦役营。由于这十一分条，我在"获释"后，没有任何判决，被发配去永久流放。 但也许这样更好。没有这种种，我就不会写这本书了…… 我的侦查员，除了用不让睡觉、撒谎和恫吓等等完全合法的方法外，没有对我采用任何手段。因此，他不需要象一些恶作剧的侦查员那样，为了保险起见，在办理第二百0六条规定的手续时塞给我一份关于不泄露的甘结：我，某某人，保证永远不向任何人讲述对我侦查的方法，否则甘愿受刑罚的制裁（不知根据何条）。 在内务人民委员部的某些省局里，这项措施是配套地进行的：打印好的关于不泄露的甘结连同特别法庭的判决书一起塞给囚犯（以后从劳动营释放时--还有一份不向任何人讲述劳改营制度的甘结）。 又怎样呢？我们的逆来顺受的习惯，我们的被压弯（或折断）了的脊背，使我们对这种土匪式的消灭罪迹的方法既不可能拒绝，也不可能表示愤慨。 我们丧失了自由的标尺。我们无法衡量，哪里是它的起点，哪里是它的终点。我们是亚细亚人，谁只要不手懒，谁就可以从我们这里取得，取得，取得这些无穷无尽的关于不泄露的甘结。 我们已经搞不清楚：我们是否有讲述自己亲身经历的权利。