"Now, thank God! we've come to the real point: 'since he was in the garden, he must have murdered him.' In those few words: 'since he was, then he must' lies the whole case for the prosecution.He was there, so he must have.And what if there is no must about it, even if he was there? Oh, I admit that the chain of evidence- the coincidences- are really suggestive.But examine all these facts separately, regardless of their connection.Why, for instance, does the prosecution refuse to admit the truth of the prisoner's statement that he ran away from his father's window? Remember the sarcasms in which the prosecutor indulged at the expense of the respectful and 'pious' sentiments which suddenly came over the murderer.But what if there were something of the sort, a feeling of religious awe, if not of filial respect? 'My mother must have been praying for me at that moment,' were the prisoner's words at the preliminary inquiry, and so he ran away as soon as he convinced himself that Madame Svyetlov was not in his father's house.'But he could not convince himself by looking through the window,' the prosecutor objects.But why couldn't he? Why? The window opened at the signals given by the prisoner.Some word might have been uttered by Fyodor Pavlovitch, some exclamation which showed the prisoner that she was not there.Why should we assume everything as we imagine it, as we make up our minds to imagine it? A thousand things may happen in reality which elude the subtlest imagination.
"'Yes, but Grigory saw the door open and so the prisoner certainly was in the house, therefore he killed him.' Now about that door, gentlemen of the jury....Observe that we have only the statement of one witness as to that door, and he was at the time in such a condition, that- but supposing the door was open; supposing the prisoner has lied in denying it, from an instinct of self-defence, natural in his position; supposing he did go into the house- well, what then? How does it follow that because he was there he committed the murder? He might have dashed in, run through the rooms; might have pushed his father away; might have struck him; but as soon as he had made sure Madame Svyetlov was not there, he may have run away rejoicing that she was not there and that he had not killed his father.And it was perhaps just because he had escaped from the temptation to kill his father, because he had a clear conscience and was rejoicing at not having killed him, that he was capable of a pure feeling, the feeling of pity and compassion, and leapt off the fence a minute later to the assistance of Grigory after he had, in his excitement, knocked him down.
"With terrible eloquence the prosecutor has described to us the dreadful state of the prisoner's mind at Mokroe when love again lay before him calling him to new life, while love was impossible for him because he had his father's bloodstained corpse behind him and beyond that corpse- retribution.And yet the prosecutor allowed him love, which he explained, according to his method, talking about this drunken condition, about a criminal being taken to execution, about it being still far off, and so on and so on.But again I ask, Mr.Prosecutor, have you not invented a new personality? Is the prisoner so coarse and heartless as to be able to think at that moment of love and of dodges to escape punishment, if his hands were really stained with his father's blood? No, no, no! As soon as it was made plain to him that she loved him and called him to her side, promising him new happiness, oh! then, I protest he must have felt the impulse to suicide doubled, trebled, and must have killed himself, if he had his father's murder on his conscience.Oh, no! he would not have forgotten where his pistols lay! I know the prisoner: the savage, stony heartlessness ascribed to him by the prosecutor is inconsistent with his character.He would have killed himself, that's certain.He did not kill himself just because 'his mother's prayers had saved him,' and he was innocent of his father's blood.
He was troubled, he was grieving that night at Mokroe only about old Grigory and praying to God that the old man would recover, that his blow had not been fatal, and that he would not have to suffer for it.Why not accept such an interpretation of the facts? What trustworthy proof have we that the prisoner is lying?
"But we shall be told at once again, 'There is his father's corpse! If he ran away without murdering him, who did murder him?'
Here, I repeat, you have the whole logic of the prosecution.Who murdered him, if not he? There's no one to put in his place.
"Gentlemen of the jury, is that really so? Is it positively, actually true that there is no one else at all? We've heard the prosecutor count on his fingers all the persons who were in that house that night.They were five in number; three of them, I agree, could not have been responsible- the murdered man himself, old Grigory, and his wife.There are left then the prisoner and Smerdyakov, and the prosecutor dramatically exclaims that the prisoner pointed to Smerdyakov because he had no one else to fix on, that had there been a sixth person, even a phantom of a sixth person, he would have abandoned the charge against Smerdyakov at once in shame and have accused that other.But, gentlemen of the jury, why may I not draw the very opposite conclusion? There are two persons- the prisoner and Smerdyakov.Why can I not say that you accuse my client, simply because you have no one else to accuse? And you have no one else only because you have determined to exclude Smerdyakov from all suspicion.
"It's true, indeed, Smerdyakov is accused only by the prisoner, his two brothers, and Madame Svyetlov.But there are others who accuse him: there are vague rumours of a question, of a suspicion, an obscure report, a feeling of expectation.Finally, we have the evidence of a combination of facts very suggestive, though, I admit, inconclusive.