When Mechenmal had mailed the letter he became restless. He was
afraid that he had handled things carelessly.
Kohn came back immediately. He went to Ilka Leipke. Showed her the
letter. Howling, he asked whether she had forgotten the night with
him. She said: "yes." He moaned. He wept unintelligibly about soul
and suicide. Ilka Leipke showed him out. His weakness was annoying
to her; even as a child she could not watch anyone cry.
But she was angry at Mechenmal. She began to tease him about Kohn.
She claimed that Kohn had often been her guest; and she always found
him to be nice. Mechenmal considered her stories to be true. Now he
hated Kohn.
He considered how to get of the hunch-back, without being known as
the one who got rid of him. It did not take him long to come up with
a plan. Kohn died on a Sunday, suddenly, but without strange
circumstances. His body was released for burial without any
difficulty. In the newspaper "The Other A" Theo Tontod provided a
short obituary. And the Club Clou sent a wreath. Ilka Leipke had
herself taken to observe the body before the burial. The coffin was
opened quickly. In it Kohn lay somewhat askew, because of the hump.
The features of his face were distorted in a grimace. His hands were
rolled up lumps. Dried blood stuck to his nose and hung over his
opened mouth. Ilka Leipke overcame her disgust. She had gasoline
brought, took a little silk scarf out of her dainty handbag and
dipped it in the the gasoline container. She cleaned the dead nose
with the little scarf. Then she left. Calm and weeping. Content
with her goodness.
When Mechenmal heard of Kohn's death, he was very frightened. He
could not bear his room. He left the house quickly, not without
first having lit a cigarette. Church bells were ringing from the
sunny sky. Mechenmal was cold and pale. He kept thinking: if only
it doesn't come out. Or he considered where he might run away. He
thought of the trial, of the defense, of prison, chains, letters
written to the outside world, the hangman. That he would, as his
last wish, be allowed to sleep with Ilka Leipke one more time. He
moved through the streets like someone trying to catch up to someone.
When it occurred to him that he should not call attention to himself,
he suddenly began to walk too slowly. It seemed to him that all the
people were watching him.
In a garden two girls, perhaps fifteen years old, were wrestling.
When they saw Mechenmal, they quickly sat down on a bench, letting
him come nearer. When he was close enough, they laughed at him; one
of them wiggled her legs. He hurried away. Behind him one of them
cried out: "See how quickly the man moves." And the other cried out
just as foolishly : "Yes, he's smoking." They watched him go, then
they went back to wrestling with each other.
Mechenmal gradually calmed down. He thought: They can't prove it was
me. I'll deny everything. Ha! Who can prove anything about me...
Even if they notice anything!--He threw the cigar away. He felt
safer. He whistled with the thought that Kohn could no longer bother
him. That he, Max Mechenmal, had overcome the difficulty with Kohn
so completely. He thought that he tackled life correctly. That
everything went well for him. He had great trust in himself. He
thought: No sentimentality now. To lead a decent life, one must be a
bastard.
He went home happily.