《恶行》：爱情与刀子 | 正午书架

Text丨Ferdinand von Schirach

Editor's note: Ferdinand von Schirach is a criminal lawyer with more than 30 years of experience who wrote "Crimes" based on the more than 700 real cases he has defended in court. Winner of the Kleist Literary Prize and the Munich Evening News' Literary Star of the Year, the book has been translated into more than 40 languages and sold more than 10 million copies.

The admired doctor, who had been submissive to his wife all his life, suddenly hacked her to death with an axe.

A diligent museum keeper, who guarded a statue for 23 years, smashed it to pieces a few minutes before he retired.

Housewives, stuttering company employees, judges who survived the war...... One day, they lose control, steal, kill, commit suicide, and become prisoners of their crimes, and the punishment will never end.

The author, Schirach, writes in his autobiography,

"The book is ostensibly about criminal cases, but it's actually about people—human failures, guilt, and greatness. I write about murderers, drug dealers, bank robbers, and prostitutes. They have their own experiences, and they are not much different from us. Our lives are like dancing on a thin layer of ice, which is extremely cold and can kill you immediately if you fall it. The ice couldn't hold some people, and they fell. This is the moment I care about the most. If we're lucky, it won't happen and we can keep dancing. If we're lucky enough. ”

Recently, the New Classics Library has collected Schirach's trilogy "Crime", "Guilt" and "Punishment" for the first time into the book "Evil Deeds", which has been released in Chinese. The following is an excerpt from the "Love" section of the book.

1

She was napping and resting her head on his lap. It was a warm summer afternoon, and she felt very comfortable with the window open. They have known each other for two years, and both are studying business administration in Bonn, taking the same courses. She knew he loved her.

Patrick stroked her back, feeling a little bored with the book in his hand. He didn't like Hesse and read poetry only because she wanted to hear it. He looked at her bare skin, spine, and shoulder blades, and couldn't help but rub his fingers against her. On the bedside table was a Swiss Army knife, with which he had just chopped an apple. He put the book aside and picked up the knife. Her eyes were half-closed, and she noticed that he had an erection again, and couldn't help but smile, they had just had sex. He opened the knife. She looked up at his cock and suddenly felt a stab in the back. She screamed, knocked his hand to the side, and jumped. The knife was flung to the parquet floor, and she felt the blood run down her back. He looked at her at a loss. She slapped him, grabbed clothes from her chair and rushed into the bathroom. His student apartment is located on the ground floor of an old building. She hurriedly put on her clothes, climbed out of the window, and fled.

Four weeks later, the police sent the summons to his registered address. Like many students, he did not change his address, so the summons was sent not to Bonn, but to his parents' house in Berlin. The mother thought it was a traffic ticket and opened it. That night, his parents talked for a long time, unable to figure out what he had done wrong. Then, the father called Patrick. The next day, his mother made an appointment with my secretary. A week later, the family came to my office.

They are all people who keep to themselves. His father was a project manager for a construction project, with a strong build, no chin, and not long arms and legs. My mother is nearly fifty years old, used to be a secretary, and is somewhat domineering and energetic. Patrick doesn't look like his parents. He was very handsome, with long hands and dark brown eyes. He gave an account of what had happened. He and Nicole have been together for two years and have never had an argument. Every time he said a word, his mother would interrupt him. She said it was just an accident. Patrick said he felt guilty, that he loved the girl so much that he wanted to apologize to her, but he couldn't get in touch with her.

His mother chimed in, "It's better that way." I don't want you to see her again. Besides, you're going to college in St. Gallen next year. "My father rarely spoke. At the end of the interview, he asked me if Patrick would be okay.

I think the case is simple and will be solved very quickly. The police have referred the case to the Public Prosecutor's Office. I called the chief prosecutor in charge. She oversees a wide range of domestic violence cases, handling thousands of cases each year, mainly due to alcoholism, jealousy and quarrels over children. She promised me that I would get the file soon.

Two days later, I received an electronic copy of nearly 40 pages. The photo shows a 15-centimeter stab wound to the girl's back, with smooth edges and good healing, leaving no scar. But I'm sure it wasn't accidental. This is not the case with wounds caused by a knife accidentally dropped.

I asked the family to come to the law firm again to talk, and the case was not urgent, and the time was about three weeks later.

Five days later, one Thursday evening. I locked my office, and Patrick was sitting on the steps when the lights came on in the stairwell. I called him in, but he shook his head, his eyes glazed over, and a cigarette between his fingers that had not yet been lit. I went back to the office and got an ashtray, lit him a cigarette, and sat down with him. The automatic sensor of the electric light clicked off, and we sat in the dark and smoked.

2

"Patrick, what can I do for you?" I asked after a while.

"It's hard. He said.

"Nothing is easy. I said, waiting for him to continue.

"I haven't told anyone about it yet. ”

"You take it slowly, it's still quite comfortable here. "Actually, it was very cold and not comfortable at all.

"I love Nicole, I've never loved someone like this. She never contacted me again, I tried everything, and wrote to her, but she didn't reply. Her phone kept being off. Her best friend hung up on me as well. ”

"This kind of thing happens. ”

"What should I do?"

"This criminal case is not difficult to solve, you will not go to jail. I read your dossier ......"

"Really?"

"Frankly, you're not telling the truth. This is not an accident. ”

Patrick hesitated for a moment, then lit another cigarette. "Yes, that's right," he said, "it's not an accident. I'm not sure I can tell you the truth. ”

"Lawyers have a duty of confidentiality," I said, "and everything you tell me is known only to the two of us." Only you can decide if and to whom I can say it. Your parents won't know what this conversation is about. ”

"The police, too?"

"Especially the police, and all the other law enforcement agencies. I have to be silent or I'll break the law. ”

"I still can't say. He said.

I suddenly had an idea. "We have a lawyer who has a five-year-old daughter. One day, she was talking to another little girl. Both sat on the ground. She has a very lively personality, and she keeps getting closer to her little friend while talking, and the more she talks, the more excited she becomes, and she almost sits on each other. She kept babbling and talking, and finally couldn't hold back any longer, hugged her little friend, and bit her neck excitedly. ”

I could feel the words working on Patrick. He struggled inside. Finally he said, "I want to eat her." ”

"Your girlfriend?"

"Yes. ”

"Why are you doing this?"

"You don't know her, you should look at her back. Her shoulder blades are pointed, and her skin is tight and fair. My skin is full of pores, like small holes, but her skin is firm and smooth with tiny blonde hairs. ”

I tried to recall the picture of her back in the dossier. "Is this the first time you've had this thought?" I asked.

"There had been one before, but not so strongly. It was on vacation in Thailand, we were lying on the beach and I bit her hard. ”

"What were you going to do this time?"

"I don't know. I just wanted to cut a piece out. ”

"Have you ever wanted to eat anyone else?"

"No, of course not. It's just her, she's the only one. He took a drag on his cigarette, "Am I crazy? I'm not Hannibal Lecter, am I?" He was scared of himself.

"No, you're not. I'm not a doctor, but I think you're so caught up in love with her that you can't help yourself. You yourself know, Patrick, that's what you said. I think you're sick. You must seek help and see a doctor as soon as possible. ”

3

The causes of cannibalism vary. People cannibalism may be due to hunger, or it may be due to customs and etiquette or a severe personality disorder. This disorder is often related to sexuality. Patrick believes that Hannibal Lecter was made up by Hollywood, but cannibalism has existed since ancient times. In the eighteenth century, Paul Reisig of Styria, Austria, ate six "beating virgin hearts", believing that after eating nine, he would become invisible, Peter Kurten drank the blood of his victims, Joachim Kroll ate at least eight people he killed in the seventies, and Bernhard Am ate his sister in 1948.

In the history of law, there are many cases that are beyond people's imagination. When Carl Denk was arrested in 1924, the police found all sorts of human remains in his kitchen: vinegar-cured pieces of meat, bottles full of bones, refined fat, bags containing hundreds of human teeth. He wears bib pants made of severed human skin, on which human nipples are recognizable. The exact number of victims remains a mystery.

"Patrick, have you heard of Kazumasa Sagawa in Japan?"

"No, who is he?"

"Sagawa is now a food critic in Tokyo. ”

"Yes, and then?"

"In 1981, he ate his girlfriend in Paris, saying that he loved the girl too much. ”

"Did he eat her whole?"

"At least partially. ”

"That," Patrick's voice trembled, "did he say what it smelled like?"

"I don't quite remember. I think he said it was like tuna. ”

"Ah......h

"Doctors at the time diagnosed him with a severe mental disorder. ”

"Am I too?"

"I'm not sure, but I want you to see a doctor. I turned on the light, "You wait a minute, I'll go find the number of the psychiatric emergency center for you." If you need to, I can drive you there right now. ”

"No," he said, "I want to think about it first." ”

"I can't force you. But please come to my office tomorrow morning and I'll take you to a proper psychiatrist. Is that okay?"

He hesitated, then said he would come. We all stood up. "Can I ask you one more question?" Patrick said, his voice very low, "what if I don't go to a psychiatrist?"

"I'm afraid your situation is going to get worse and worse. I said. I pushed open the office door, looked for the phone number, and set up the ashtray. By the time I got back into the stairwell, Patrick was gone.

He didn't come the next day either. A week later, I received a letter and a check from his mother. She revoked the commission on me and the letter had Patrick's signature, so it was valid. I called Patrick, but he didn't answer. I had to give up defending him.

4

Two years later, I had a lecture in Zurich. During the intermission, an elderly lawyer from St. Gallen came up to me, mentioned Patrick's name to me, and asked me if I had ever been retained by him. He heard about me from Patrick. I asked what was going on. "Two months ago, Patrick killed a waitress with an unknown motive," the lawyer said. ”

Vice, Ferdinand von Schirach, Nanhai Publishing Company, New Classic Culture, translator: Huang Chaomo, 2024-1, ISBN: 9787573505118

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