"But what do we see? As soon as he is arrested the prisoner instantly throws all the blame on Smerdyakov, not accusing him of being his accomplice, but of being himself the murderer.'He did it alone,' he says.'He murdered and robbed him.It was the work of his hands.' Strange sort of accomplices who begin to accuse one another at once! And think of the risk for Karamazov.After committing the murder while his accomplice lay in bed, he throws the blame on the invalid, who might well have resented it and in self-preservation might well have confessed the truth.For he might well have seen that the court would at once judge how far he was responsible, and so he might well have reckoned that if he were punished, it would be far less severely than the real murderer.But in that case he would have been certain to make a confession, yet he has not done so.Smerdyakov never hinted at their complicity, though the actual murderer persisted in accusing him and declaring that he had committed the crime alone.
"What's more, Smerdyakov at the inquiry volunteered the statement that it was he who had told the prisoner of the envelope of notes and of the signals, and that, but for him, he would have known nothing about them.If he had really been a guilty accomplice, would he so readily have made this statement at the inquiry? On the contrary, he would have tried to conceal it, to distort the facts or minimise them.But he was far from distorting or minimising them.No one but an innocent man, who had no fear of being charged with complicity, could have acted as he did.And in a fit of melancholy arising from his disease and this catastrophe he hanged himself yesterday.He left a note written in his peculiar language, 'I destroy myself of my own will and inclination so as to throw no blame on anyone.' What would it have cost him to add: 'I am the murderer, not Karamazov'? But that he did not add.Did his conscience lead him to suicide and not to avowing his guilt?
"And what followed? Notes for three thousand roubles were brought into the court just now, and we were told that they were the same that lay in the envelope now on the table before us, and that the witness had received them from Smerdyakov the day before.But I need not recall the painful scene, though I will make one or two comments, selecting such trivial ones as might not be obvious at first sight to everyone, and so may be overlooked.In the first place, Smerdyakov must have given back the money and hanged himself yesterday from remorse.And only yesterday he confessed his guilt to Ivan Karamazov, as the latter informs us.If it were not so, indeed, why should Ivan Fyodorovitch have kept silence till now? And so, if he has confessed, then why, I ask again, did he not avow the whole truth in the last letter he left behind, knowing that the innocent prisoner had to face this terrible ordeal the next day?
"The money alone is no proof.A week ago, quite by chance, the fact came to the knowledge of myself and two other persons in this court that Ivan Fyodorovitch had sent two five per cent coupons of five thousand each- that is, ten thousand in all- to the chief town of the province to be changed.I only mention this to point out that anyone may have money, and that it can't be proved that these notes are the same as were in Fyodor Pavlovitch's envelope.
"Ivan Karamazov, after receiving yesterday a communication of such importance from the real murderer, did not stir.Why didn't he report it at once? Why did he put it all off till morning? I think Ihave a right to conjecture why.His health had been giving way for a week past: he had admitted to a doctor and to his most intimate friends that he was suffering from hallucinations and seeing phantoms of the dead: he was on the eve of the attack of brain fever by which he has been stricken down to-day.In this condition he suddenly heard of Smerdyakov's death, and at once reflected.'The man is dead, I can throw the blame on him and save my brother.Ihave money.I will take a roll of notes and say that Smerdyakov gave them me before his death.' You will say that was dishonourable: it's dishonourable to slander even the dead, and even to save a brother.
True, but what if he slandered him unconsciously? What if, finally unhinged by the sudden news of the valet's death, he imagined it really was so? You saw the recent scene: you have seen the witness's condition.He was standing up and was speaking, but where was his mind?
"Then followed the document, the prisoner's letter written two days before the crime, and containing a complete programme of the murder.Why, then, are we looking for any other programme? The crime was committed precisely according to this programme, and by no other than the writer of it.Yes, gentlemen of the jury, it went off without a hitch! He did not run respectfully and timidly away from his father's window, though he was firmly convinced that the object of his affections was with him.No, that is absurd and unlikely! He went in and murdered him.Most likely he killed him in anger, burning with resentment, as soon as he looked on his hated rival.But having killed him, probably with one blow of the brass pestle, and having convinced himself, after careful search, that she was not there, he did not, however, forget to put his hand under the pillow and take out the envelope, the torn cover of which lies now on the table before us.
"I mention this fact that you may note one, to my thinking, very characteristic circumstance.Had he been an experienced murderer and had he committed the murder for the sake of gain only, would he have left the torn envelope on the floor as it was found, beside the corpse? Had it been Smerdyakov, for instance, murdering his master to rob him, he would have simply carried away the envelope with him, without troubling himself to open it over his victim's corpse, for he would have known for certain that the notes were in the envelope-they had been put in and sealed up in his presence- and had he taken the envelope with him, no one would ever have known of the robbery.