Description: War Thunder is a next generation military MMO game dedicated to...
Current page: 1 (total book has 13 pages) [accessible reading excerpt: 9 pages]
Marina Kramer
Secrets of grown girls
Do not look at this world with fear and disgust. Boldly face what the gods offer you.
Morihei Ueshiba, founder of modern aikido
Inspection of the scene always caused conflicting feelings in Lena. On the one hand, she was not afraid of corpses and the sight of blood; over the years of work, this became a habit and ceased to irritate and cause disgust. But on the other hand... Every time behind this phrase "inspection of the scene" there was someone's broken fate, even two - the one who was killed, and the one who killed. And today, it seems, you won’t have to look for a long time. According to the expert, both shots were fired from the same weapon, and it is firmly held in the hand of a corpse lying next to the bed in a spacious bedroom. Here, on the bed, is the second body.
“Someone cracked his skull with a point-blank shot,” expert Ivan Igorevich Nikitin sighed, having finished examining the body on the bed. - You can take it away. And we'll take care of the girl.
Lena shifted her gaze to the second corpse. In front of her lay a blonde woman, face down on the floor, dressed in blue jeans and a multicolored knitted cardigan. Inlet on the right temple left almost no doubt - suicide. AT right hand"Makarov" was tightly clamped. Nikitin carefully pulled the pistol from the victim's whitened fingers and lowered it into the plastic bag handed to him:
- It's for examination. But, most likely, nothing will be needed here: the sleeves seem to be similar. Let's turn the lady around. He carefully rolled the corpse onto its back and gasped, “Wow! Yes, this is Zhanna Strelkova. Doing brothers...
Lena came closer and looked into the face of the dead woman. It seemed vaguely familiar to her. I strained my memory and realized that the expert was right: it really was Zhanna Strelkova, the owner of the art gallery, a very famous person who several years ago headed the fund to combat oncological diseases. Just a couple of days ago, her gallery transferred a large amount of money to the account of a local hospital, all local channels and even one federal one trumpeted about it. A young, beautiful, wealthy woman - and suddenly a shot in the temple?
“It’s strange somehow,” Lena muttered, squatting down and examining the dead woman’s hand.
- What exactly?
Nikitin continued his examination. Now he was dictating the data to the trainee Katya.
Why would she shoot herself in the temple?
- Not much. The rich, Lenochka, have their own jokes.
- And the second corpse we have - Strelkov Valery Ivanovich, Zhanna's father? Don't you think it's somehow...
Do you think it's staged?
- I admit it. She couldn't kill own father, truth?
The operatives had already finished inspecting the house, and now one of them, Captain Andrey Parovoznikov, was waiting for what other orders Lena would give. He stood at the door of the bedroom and also peered intently into the face of the dead woman.
“There were no signs of forced entry or any other intrusion,” he said.
“Were the other inhabitants of the palace questioned?” Lena turned to him.
- Yes. The cook came at six in the morning, but he does not walk around the house, he has a door directly into the kitchen, his own key. We'll check it out, of course. The housekeeper has a day off today, I took the address and phone number, I will leave right now. Kostya is talking to the gardener.
“Is the gardener the one who discovered the bodies?”
- Yes. Today he was supposed to go to the greenhouse for some kind of tree, he went in to get money from the owner. He usually gets up early, but today he was not in the office. The gardener decided to go up to the bedroom, and here it is. He immediately called the police. By the way, the security of the village swears that there were no other people's cars. They have strict records, but the mayor lives here. We looked at the magazine: all the numbers of the cars match those on the list.
- This means nothing. They might not have come by car.
“Yeah, in a blue helicopter,” Parovoznikov snorted. “That doesn’t happen here, Elena Denisovna.
- Okay, let's figure it out. Did you find something interesting in the documents?
- Nothing. Her office is on the third floor, where there are only reports on the financial receipts for the fund and the expenditure of funds. There are some pieces of paper in the gallery and a report on the exhibition - an estimate and so on. Yes, another act of buying a painting by Grabar.
- What is the picture? Lena asked.
- It seems, "March snow". Andrew reached into his notebook. - Yes, exactly, one thousand nine hundred and four, a picture.
“It can't be,” Katya suddenly said, and Lena and Andrey turned to her.
- Because it is stored in the Tretyakov Gallery.
- It is unlikely that what our gallery bought is the original. More like a copy. But I can ask my mother, she will tell you for sure.
- And who is our mother? - Andrey asked respectfully: people who are versed in art seemed to him a little gods, or something.
“My mother is an art critic, a specialist in the Wanderers,” Katya blushed a little, embarrassed under the gaze of Parovoznikov.
- Katerina, come on, quickly call your mother. He handed her a cell phone.
- I’m better with mine, she doesn’t like it when unfamiliar numbers ...
After a couple of minutes, it turned out that Katya was right: the gallery could not buy Grabar's original. Andrew frowned.
- I'll go look at the amount.
He went somewhere deep into the house, and Lena noted with surprise how the blushed Katya was following him with her eyes. Here's a heartthrob. Poor girl.
Andrei Parovoznikov was known as a real Don Juan. Almost all the employees of the prosecutor's office under fifty were crazy about him, and sometimes even men gossiped about his stormy novels. Andrei was handsome with real male beauty. Such a copy ancient viking- fair-haired, blue-eyed, broad-shouldered. In addition, he had a great sense of humor, which women also liked. Lena in the first year of work also fell under the power of his charm, but managed to resist. She did not like this type, she always liked older men, more calm and intelligent. True, the current romance was more upsetting than pleased, but now she had no time to think about it.
"So, that's it, I'm done," Nikitin announced, taking off his gloves. - We can turn around. Lena, are you in the office?
- Yes. Can I come with you? The car didn't start in the morning.
“Buy a normal one,” Parovoznikov snorted. - What, mom and dad won't help?
- Andryushenka, my parents are lawyers, not oligarchs, and you can’t roam on your own salary.
- Get a loan.
- My principle is not to live in debt.
“Then suffer,” Andrei graciously allowed, watching Lena seal the premises.
"Where to begin? Lena thought as she sat in her office and stared blankly at the papers laid out in front of her. “Could it be murder after all?” But there must be a motive. Someone third? Need to work. Although suicide also raises questions. I do not like such direct evidence that does not raise doubts, they alert me.
Her head hurt, and Lena, without looking, took out a pack of painkillers from the desk drawer and popped a pill into her mouth. An hour later, Parovoznikov arrived with a list of those who had been in the Strelkovs' house. The housekeeper even gave each visitor brief description which was especially helpful.
The first surname seemed familiar to Lena.
- Golitsyn, Golitsyn ... How do I know this name? - she muttered and reached into a thick diary, where she used to write down phone numbers: she did not trust the mobile address book.
Golitsyn was not there, although Lena honestly reviewed all the written pages.
- Maybe it did. Okay, I'll figure it out later.
Glancing at her watch, Lena found that she could leave for lunch. She put on a raincoat, left the office and looked at the door opposite:
- Nikolai Petrovich, am I running to a cafe?
“Didn’t you call anyone for two hours today?” The prosecutor looked up at her and took off his glasses.
- For tomorrow. Today, unexpectedly, work has stopped.
- Oh, yes, the Strelkovs. You come to me after dinner, we'll think.
Elena Kroshina has been working in the prosecutor's office for ten years. She came there as an intern and stayed, although her parents thought that her daughter would continue the family tradition and become a lawyer. But Lena did not want nepotism - she was afraid that she would be under the pressure of parental authority. Father said nothing, although he frowned displeasedly, and mother drank valerian for a long time in the kitchen, picturesquely putting her hand to her forehead.
– How do you imagine it? She cast piercing glances at her daughter, who was sitting there. “You don’t want everyone to think that we are pushing you, it’s embarrassing for you. Would it be convenient for you to run into business with one of us?
Mom, don't exaggerate. You have not dealt with criminal offenses for a long time, you have a different specialization. My dad doesn't even seem to notice.
- Of course! He will not notice that his daughter is investigating the case!
“Don’t be dramatic,” Lena grimaced. “You might think I didn’t go to the prosecutor’s office, but, I don’t know, to a strip club.
- Still not enough! mum snapped, forgetting about the glass of valerian.
- Here you see. And it could be so.
- Thank you dear! My father and I barely survived your passion for pool dancing.
- Natasha, stop it! - said the father authoritatively, appearing on the threshold of the kitchen. “This is her life and her career, after all. Let him do what the soul lies to.
- Yes, she has a soul for examining the corpses of all the homeless!
“Enough, I said. Let's have dinner.
The word of Denis Vasilievich in the family was always the last. Natalya Ivanovna silently poured the rest of the valerian into the sink and began setting the table for supper.
She had not had to face her father in court for ten years, and Lena did not know whether it was an accident or whether her father deliberately avoided the cases that her daughter was engaged in.
From a young age, parents did not have unity in matters of upbringing, and Natalya Ivanovna often blamed her husband for Lena growing up too closed, secretive, self-absorbed. She was little interested in boys, she preferred to spend time with books, of which there were plenty in the house: for many years Denis Vasilievich enthusiastically compiled a library, looking for rare publications and retrieving works by good foreign authors in conceivable and inconceivable ways.
Outwardly, Lena did not stand out in any way: an ordinary girl of rather high stature, with slightly curly brown hair. She had slim figure, however, the legs looked slightly plump, which Lena successfully disguised with long skirts or trousers. Young people paid attention to her, but she was not interested in her peers, and therefore, at thirty-five, she was not yet married, which drove her mother to despair. The father, on the other hand, looked at the situation differently - he believed that the daughter herself would figure out how to arrange her life.
The only thing that both parents were in solidarity with was hostility towards her current lover. Nikita Koltsov caused indignation in both. Firstly, he was sixteen years older than Lena; secondly, he was divorced; thirdly, he lived in the same apartment with his adult son and his family; as luck would have it, fairly well-known.
Lena met him by chance in a cafe. The well-read, intelligent Nikita stunned her with his knowledge, especially in regard to art and literature. Since Lena loved to read, she and Nikita turned out to have many common favorite authors, and the conversation dragged on until almost night. Koltsov offered to take her home, and they quietly strolled along the embankment until morning.
Since then it has begun. Lena did not even immediately find out how old he really was. Nikita looked very good, carefully looked after himself, went in for sports, smoked little and preferred light white wine to all alcoholic drinks - no more than a glass per evening. Age did not become a hindrance, and for about a year they met and periodically rented an apartment for closer communication. Lena did not want to bring Nikita home, although she was already independent and could not report to her parents who came to her cozy tiny room. It seemed to her that such questions should be taken on by a man. Nikita understood this and did not claim her territory, although he did not invite him to his place, referring to his son and his wife - they say, it’s inconvenient to disturb, I don’t want to explain. Lena was fine with that.
This, but not that for almost a year Nikita did not talk about anything serious. Like any woman, she wanted to start a family, give birth to a child, organize life in her beloved home with her beloved. But Nikita did not take any steps in this direction, and over time, Lena managed to convince herself that he was simply not yet ready for a second marriage. "Nothing, time will pass, and he will understand that he is better with me than without me, she reassured herself. “And then we will have everything.”
Time passed, but nothing happened.
Lena woke up from discomfort in her stomach. This happened every time something difficult was coming. Parovoznikov summoned the housekeeper of the murdered Strelkovs for a talk and for some reason insisted on Lenin's presence. She reluctantly agreed, and now she has to get out of bed and go to the department. It was raining outside the window, the gray sky was like a heavy wet blanket dripping with water. Lena gloomily thought that she would have to get rubber boots and a warmer raincoat. And it would be nice not to forget the umbrella, as she usually does. Every time she was outside in the rain, she remembered that she again forgot to perform a simple action - to reach out to the right of the front door and hook her finger on the curved handle of a large umbrella that stood in a special stand. Today she firmly promised herself that she would not go out without an umbrella.
Under a hot stream in her soul, Lena finally woke up, and her thoughts immediately rushed in the right direction - what questions to ask the housekeeper, what not to forget. She had jotted down a list of questions yesterday, while she was following with one eye the development of the plot in some endless series. Lena could not be in silence, so either the music or the TV in her room always sounded softly. By the way, this irritated Nikita - he loved silence and grimaced every time Lena suddenly reached for the TV remote control in a rented apartment.
I want to be silent, you understand? Half an hour of silence. I manage to talk so much during the day that I should be silent at least at home. I do not understand how you are not tormented by the need to constantly communicate with people. He took the remote control from her and put it away so that it was not even visible.
Lena didn't understand this. Her work is also related to people, but she does not need silence, rather the opposite. As soon as the room became quiet, Lena panicked. She needed any sounds, even a drum roll. Nikita did not want to put up with this and was very angry if Lena tried to insist on her own. She gave in, gave in, but the insult did not pass: he does not understand her and does not want to sacrifice anything for her, even such nonsense as the TV being turned on.
The housekeeper of the Strelkovs, Irina Koshkina, turned out to be a rather young woman. She was dressed modestly, but Lena immediately realized that the things on her were not from the market. “I wonder how much she was paid if she can afford shoes for almost fifteen thousand?” Lena thought, looking at the burgundy patent leather shoes with steady heels. Such a model was recently measured by Lenin's mother, so she knew the price to the ruble.
Irina looked calm, but crumpled her handkerchief in her hands and now and then looked back at Lena, who took a place behind her.
- Have you, Irina Alexandrovna, been working in the Strelkovs' house for a long time? - began Parovoznikov after the formalities were over.
- Ten years.
- Yes, a lot. And why did they choose such a strange career? Are you a linguist by profession, if I understand correctly?
– Do we have many jobs for linguists? Koshkina snapped slightly.
- I do not know. But for some reason you chose a specialty when you entered the university, right?
- Of course! But it's not my fault that housekeepers earn ten times more than linguists.
“Good,” Parovoznikov agreed patiently. - And how did you get to the Strelkovs? Through an agency?
- Not. My former housekeeper brought me and recommended me. She is my neighbour. The age was no longer the same, it became difficult for her, and her daughter invited her to live with her in Vologda. So she offered me to Strelkov.
Koshkina nervously licked her lips and straightened a strand of hair that had slipped out from behind her ear.
- Clear. And what, you and the owner immediately came, so to speak, to mutual understanding?
- What are you implying? she suddenly squealed, and Lena looked at Parovoznikov in surprise. He, too, was a little taken aback.
- I? Nothing. He asked if you had any misunderstanding with the owner, if he was pleased with the way you work. What hints, Irina Alexandrovna?
- So they would immediately ask, - she calmed down a little. - No, I tried very hard to do everything the way Aunt Tasya told me.
- Aunt Tasha?
- My neighbor, who got me a job. At first, I ran to her every evening, I even got a special notebook to write down all the little things there. You see, it is very important that everything in the house is done the way the owners are used to: it is so convenient for them, but it is much easier for me. They are good people, don't you think. Zhannochka is generally so nice…” Irina sobbed and brought her handkerchief to her eyes. - She didn’t say a bad word to anyone, polite, with everyone on “you” - and with me, and with the cook, and with the gardener. Never raise your voice. Yes, and Valery Ivanovich ... Who could they interfere with?
- Do you think that someone killed the Strelkovs? Lena intervened. Irina turned to her:
- I'm sure.
“I don’t understand,” Lena frowned. - Either you say that they could not interfere with anyone, or you categorically declare that the Strelkovs were killed. Don't you think this is strange, Irina Alexandrovna?
- What is the contradiction? People are dead, so they were killed.
“It means absolutely nothing. People could take their own lives, for example.
- What? Irina exclaimed. - Yes, this is nonsense! The unfortunate or sick end up with themselves! Valery Ivanovich is a respected person, the owner of a car service, he has a very important clientele, and things are going well. And Zhannochka is just a smart girl, she built a gallery, she helps the sick. She's a total saint! Why would she end up with herself?
- Indeed, why, - Lena muttered, making some notes in her diary. - By the way, Irina Alexandrovna, do you happen to know what kind of painting Jeanne recently bought for the gallery?
- I know. A very good copy of Grabar's March Snow. I personally saw her.
So it's still a copy. Did Jeanne know?
- About what? What copy buys? Of course.
“Nothing,” Lena muttered. – And some other big purchases in recent times she did for the gallery?
“No,” Irina said confidently. - Absolutely not. I know that she was preparing a big exhibition of our local artists. There was supposed to be an auction, and the money would go to the fund. But that’s how, I didn’t have time ... - Irina sobbed again.
- What do you think, Irina Alexandrovna, could Jeanne have competitors? Parovoznikov entered into the conversation.
– Competitors? In what? Do you think there is someone who killed Zhannochka in order to more money donate to the fund? Show me such a person, I have never met in my entire life. Zhannochka is selfless, she helped everyone ...
- Maybe someone was not satisfied with the activities of the fund?
But don't kill for it!
"Yes, yes, yes," Parovoznikov muttered. - And here is your master, Valery Ivanovich - he could not have any ill-wishers?
Irina just shrugged.
- Don't you have them? Or is it the girl? She nodded towards Lena. - Or me?
Parovoznikov said nothing. Lena saw that the conversation had reached a dead end. The housekeeper is too attached to the family where she worked, and can not believe that her owners could cause someone trouble. And she generally idolizes the young mistress. Considering her continued presence here as a waste of time, Lena got up and left the office.
She called the experts: there is no result of the examination yet. Nothing special, but a little upset - it seemed that the examination would help get closer to the solution. I had to pull myself together and switch to something else.
But she was interrupted. As soon as Lena laid out the case materials on the table, there was a knock on the office door and a tall man of about thirty-five or forty appeared on the threshold. Lena even slightly opened her mouth - before that, the visitor had a specific appearance. His light Wavy hair lay on her shoulders, her face was stern and somehow stony, but she had not seen a more beautiful male face for a long time. She didn’t really like this type, but Lena couldn’t help but admit that the visitor was handsome. In some way, he remotely resembled Andrei Parovoznikov, and this similarity surprised her: for some reason it seemed that such a handsome man in nature should exist in a single copy so as not to serve as a punishment for the female race.
“Hello,” the visitor said loudly and stopped in the middle of the office. Are you Elena Denisovna Kroshina?
- Then I'll come to you, - he in a businesslike way pulled up a chair intended for visitors with his foot, sat down and introduced himself: - My name is Pavel Golitsyn, I am a friend of Zhanna Strelkova.
- I didn't call you. - It is unlikely that she managed to hide her surprise: usually no one came voluntarily to their institution.
I didn't wait for you to call. I have some information, perhaps it will be useful to you, - said Golitsyn.
- Information is good. - Lena carefully examined the visitor. How well do you know Jeanne?
- We were going to get married.
Lena remembered that she had seen a rather expensive ring on the hand of the murdered Strelkova - such ones are usually given when they make an offer.
- Have you applied already?
- Not. Gathered after the auction. Zhanna wanted to finish everything, apply and go on a pre-wedding trip. Everyone has accepted this after the wedding, but we wanted it in advance.
- Clear. What question are you asking me?
“I bet you are sitting now and thinking about what I might need,” Golitsyn said suddenly. - Most likely, you think, the guy does not have an alibi, and he decided to play ahead of the curve - to come to the prosecutor's office and lay out everything he knows about ... - then he hesitated, and Lena realized what to say about her beloved woman in the past tense, and even with the definition of "killed", he is beyond his powers.
- You almost guessed it.
“I didn’t guess right,” Golitsyn admitted with a sigh. “It just fits very well with the standard detective scheme, Elena Denisovna.
Lena once again carefully looked at the person sitting in front of her and suddenly remembered how she knew this face. Pavel Golitsyn was a well-known author of detective stories, and at one of his presentations, Lena was just with Nikita - he was filming, and she followed the company.
“Why didn’t I think of that sooner?” she smiled. - Now you can introduce a new character into your books - a slow-witted senior investigator of the prosecutor's office.
“I must admit, I did not expect that you would take my book out of the table and rush for an autograph,” Golitsyn smiled in response. - And then, by all means, it turns out that I should be a suspect - as the person closest to Jeanne.
- What, and is there a motive?
- Are you seriously?
“Quite,” she nodded.
- I, Elena Denisovna, love Jeanne ... loved. Damn, how hard and painful it turns out to be, - Golitsyn muttered, clenching his fists. “I saw her alive two days ago, we were together all day, I didn’t want to let her go, I asked her to stay overnight with me, as if I felt ... You know, Elena Denisovna,” he suddenly spoke excitedly, leaning forward, “I never I did not believe in omens, in signs. And that evening ... We were sitting in the living room, and suddenly a dove hit the glass - with all its might. It even seemed to me that he had fallen, but Jeanne went to the window, looked and said that she had flown away. And everything inside me turned cold: this, they say, to the news of death. But I couldn't even imagine...
“Wait,” Lena stopped him. - So, it turns out that you saw Zhanna Strelkova for the last time a few hours before her death?
- It turns out so. She left me at about two in the morning. I persuaded her to stay, I didn’t want her alone in the car in the rain. But for some reason Jeanne was stubborn.
- Did she often stay with you?
- Of course. We're adults, we were going to get married. Her father did not object, only asked that Zhanna always warn him if she was sleeping with me. Worried. He loved her very much, he blew dust particles away. Jeanne did not have a mother, and he raised her alone.
- There was no mother - in the sense that Strelkov did not live with his wife?
- Not. She died when Jeanne was about two years old. Valery Ivanovich did not like to remember this, so I do not know the details, just as Zhanna herself did not know them, it seems.
Lena, writing down, tried as much as possible to follow how the expression on Golitsyn's face was changing, but she did not notice anything but longing in her eyes. The writer quite naturally experienced the death of Jeanne, and Lena hardly doubted the sincerity of his grief. Although in her practice there were cases when the killer portrayed suffering for his victim so naturally that even experienced employees could not immediately recognize the acting. But something in Pavel's face made Lena believe him.
- Have you and Zhanna been together for a long time?
Yes, almost seven years. Do you want me to guess what you thought?
- And about what?
- About the fact that I'm a decent bastard, once in seven years I have not been able to get married.
- Didn't guess. I thought that you must know both Jeanne herself and her father well, since they have known each other for so long. As for marriage… – Lena shrugged her shoulders. - Anything can happen.
- You're right. Zhanna didn't want to marry me," Golitsyn sighed. – I am very ashamed to admit it, but she refused me twice.
- Weird. And the reasons?
- You will laugh. She thought I was too handsome.
Lena looked up from her notes in surprise:
- In what sense?
- In direct. So she said: a beautiful husband is a punishment. And beautiful and famous - a punishment without the right to appeal. - It was felt that, saying all this, Golitsyn was not joking. In his voice, Lena heard the hidden pain and resentment.
“But Jeanne, as far as I could understand, was very attractive woman. Where do such complexes come from?
- These are not complexes, this is a life position. It always seemed to her that my appearance would cause problems in the family. And fans, of course... You understand that readers often identify the author with his characters and want some kind of correspondence, or something. Especially when the author is a man, and his main audience is women. It's no secret that women are the most reading part of the population, right? It is women who attend all kinds of meetings and presentations. And they want to see in the author the features of his heroes, especially bright and charismatic heroes. And Jeanne did not want our life to become a story for another novel. I travel a lot - trade in person is sometimes necessary. Fans write to me a lot, and I did not hide this from Zhanna, I did not want to lie. In a word, everything. And only this year I managed to convince her that family life I won't drag it into my novels.
Golitsyn was silent. Lena finished writing the last sentence and raised her head:
What about Jeanne's father? How did he react to what was happening?
- Valery Ivanovich? He did not accept me for a very long time. Golitsyn leaned back in his chair. - I checked everything, looked closely, even hired a detective. In general, I can understand him: only daughter. But it was unpleasant. He knew how to look so that he wanted to run away. But when I was convinced that I wouldn’t do anything bad to Jeanne, I somehow softened up, or something. Recently, I generally thought that I was already her husband, regardless of the stamp.
- In other words, your relationship developed normally?
- Completely.
- Did they have a lot of people in the house at all?
- A lot of. I won't even name some of them. - Golitsyn pointedly emphasized the first word. - They turned to Valery Ivanovich for help if it was necessary to quickly and efficiently repair the car or sell it. And he helped. And then they were grateful to him.
Did you bring money?
“I don’t know that,” Golitsyn spread his hands. - As you understand, I was not so trustworthy as to discuss such things with me. Actually,” he suddenly glanced at his watch, “I’m running out of time. That's why I came here. It seems to me that something happened to Zhanna recently, and she did not talk about it with anyone, even with me. But I know she kept a diary. Many years. I kept it somewhere in the house, but I can't say exactly where. I think if you find him, you can learn something.
- I'll think about it. Allow me the last question: how did you understand that something happened to Jeanne?
She stopped smiling. Even with me. She complained about not sleeping well at night. It seems that the doctor even prescribed sleeping pills for her, because she could not sleep for two or three nights in a row, and then she suffered a lot - mood swings, irritability, you know? But her work is still with people, and in such a state it’s somehow worthless ... I can write you the doctor’s phone number, it will suddenly come in handy.
Lena nodded and held out a piece of paper and a pen. Golitsyn quickly jotted down a few figures and signed in a flourish at the bottom of the sheet. And he was immediately embarrassed:
“Damn it, habit. I'm sorry, it's automatic.
- Nothing, let it be. Lena slipped the sheet into her diary. - Thank you, Pavel. If necessary, I will call you.
- You can call me at any time. Golitsyn carefully pulled out a sheet from her diary and added another number. “I am at your service whenever you see fit.
“I don’t delay anymore,” Lena answered dryly, for some reason deciding that the writer was flirting, but after a minute she became ashamed of this thought. There was not a single hint of flirting in his words, only a desire to help.
Golitsyn said goodbye and left the office, and Lena looked for a long time at the sheet in front of her with two telephones and an ornate sweeping signature.
To her surprise, Nikita was waiting outside the prosecutor's office. This has never happened before. My heart beat with joy in anticipation of the evening, and maybe the whole night together - if you were lucky with the apartment. But Nikita's face was gloomy and displeased.
- Hi. She pecked him on the cheek.
- Hi. You're long, I've been stuck here for forty minutes.
But we didn't agree. I didn’t know what you were waiting for, otherwise I would have freed myself earlier,” Lena began to justify herself.
“Nothing, it didn’t fall apart, it’s not sugary,” Nikita muttered, looking expressively at his wet sneakers.
Are you from the shoot? She noticed an impressive case with cameras on his shoulder.
- Yes, I worked nearby, I decided to pick you up.
– Where shall we go?
- I've been hungry since the morning, I didn't have time - all day on my feet and in the park. The model is a fool, she appeared an hour later, the customer was exhausted: the studio is expensive. They couldn’t really remove anything, she roared constantly, the makeup was redone twice. - Koltsov, in annoyance, walked towards the restaurant of Italian cuisine obliquely from the prosecutor's office.
Watching Nikita sit in an armchair, how imposingly he takes a menu card from the waiter's hands, how his face becomes a little squeamish, Lena suddenly thought that she did not know at all what was going on inside this person. He has his own life, which runs in parallel, and he does not at all seek to introduce her, Lena, into this life. And why, exactly? He is a man from the bohemian world, a subtle and sensitive nature, and even noble blood (although what kind of nobles are there, if you think about it, in post-revolutionary Russia). And she - with her corpses in the middle of the night, emotionally devastating work and origin from the plow. Nikita sometimes joked rather offensively about this, Lena tried not to listen or let it go by her ears, but sometimes it became very unpleasant. Koltsov rushed about with his great-great-grandmother, who entered the imperial palace, as if with a hand-written sack, and commemorated her to the point and not very much. Lena was amused by this, but she prudently did not speak out loud about this, realizing that Nikita would not like this.
Marina Kramer
Secrets of grown girls
Do not look at this world with fear and disgust. Boldly face what the gods offer you.
Morihei Ueshiba, founder of modern aikido
Inspection of the scene always caused conflicting feelings in Lena. On the one hand, she was not afraid of corpses and the sight of blood; over the years of work, this became a habit and ceased to irritate and cause disgust. But on the other hand... Every time behind this phrase "inspection of the scene" there was someone's broken fate, even two - the one who was killed, and the one who killed. And today, it seems, you won’t have to look for a long time. According to the expert, both shots were fired from the same weapon, and it is firmly held in the hand of a corpse lying next to the bed in a spacious bedroom. Here, on the bed, is the second body.
“Someone cracked his skull with a point-blank shot,” expert Ivan Igorevich Nikitin sighed, having finished examining the body on the bed. - You can take it away. And we'll take care of the girl.
Lena shifted her gaze to the second corpse. In front of her lay a blonde woman, face down on the floor, dressed in blue jeans and a multicolored knitted cardigan. The inlet on the right temple left almost no doubt - suicide. In the right hand was firmly clamped "Makarov". Nikitin carefully pulled the pistol from the victim's whitened fingers and lowered it into the plastic bag handed to him:
- It's for examination. But, most likely, nothing will be needed here: the sleeves seem to be similar. Let's turn the lady around. He carefully rolled the corpse onto its back and gasped, “Wow! Yes, this is Zhanna Strelkova. Doing brothers...
Lena came closer and looked into the face of the dead woman. It seemed vaguely familiar to her. I strained my memory and realized that the expert was right: it really was Zhanna Strelkova, the owner of the art gallery, a very famous person who several years ago headed the foundation for the fight against cancer. Just a couple of days ago, her gallery transferred a large amount of money to the account of a local hospital, all local channels and even one federal one trumpeted about it. A young, beautiful, wealthy woman - and suddenly a shot in the temple?
“It’s strange somehow,” Lena muttered, squatting down and examining the dead woman’s hand.
- What exactly?
Nikitin continued his examination. Now he was dictating the data to the trainee Katya.
Why would she shoot herself in the temple?
- Not much. The rich, Lenochka, have their own jokes.
- And the second corpse we have - Strelkov Valery Ivanovich, Zhanna's father? Don't you think it's somehow...
Do you think it's staged?
- I admit it. She couldn't have killed her own father, could she?
The operatives had already finished inspecting the house, and now one of them, Captain Andrey Parovoznikov, was waiting for what other orders Lena would give. He stood at the door of the bedroom and also peered intently into the face of the dead woman.
“There were no signs of forced entry or any other intrusion,” he said.
“Were the other inhabitants of the palace questioned?” Lena turned to him.
- Yes. The cook came at six in the morning, but he does not walk around the house, he has a door directly into the kitchen, his own key. We'll check it out, of course. The housekeeper has a day off today, I took the address and phone number, I will leave right now. Kostya is talking to the gardener.
“Is the gardener the one who discovered the bodies?”
- Yes. Today he was supposed to go to the greenhouse for some kind of tree, he went in to get money from the owner. He usually gets up early, but today he was not in the office. The gardener decided to go up to the bedroom, and here it is. He immediately called the police. By the way, the security of the village swears that there were no other people's cars. They have strict records, but the mayor lives here. We looked at the magazine: all the numbers of the cars match those on the list.
- This means nothing. They might not have come by car.
“Yeah, in a blue helicopter,” Parovoznikov snorted. “That doesn’t happen here, Elena Denisovna.
- Okay, let's figure it out. Did you find something interesting in the documents?
- Nothing. Her office is on the third floor, where there are only reports on the financial receipts for the fund and the expenditure of funds. There are some pieces of paper in the gallery and a report on the exhibition - an estimate and so on. Yes, another act of buying a painting by Grabar.
- What is the picture? Lena asked.
- It seems, "March snow". Andrew reached into his notebook. - Yes, exactly, one thousand nine hundred and four, a picture.
“It can't be,” Katya suddenly said, and Lena and Andrey turned to her.
- Because it is stored in the Tretyakov Gallery.
- It is unlikely that what our gallery bought is the original. More like a copy. But I can ask my mother, she will tell you for sure.
- And who is our mother? - Andrey asked respectfully: people who are versed in art seemed to him a little gods, or something.
“My mother is an art critic, a specialist in the Wanderers,” Katya blushed a little, embarrassed under the gaze of Parovoznikov.
- Katerina, come on, quickly call your mother. He handed her a cell phone.
- I’m better with mine, she doesn’t like it when unfamiliar numbers ...
After a couple of minutes, it turned out that Katya was right: the gallery could not buy Grabar's original. Andrew frowned.
- I'll go look at the amount.
He went somewhere deep into the house, and Lena noted with surprise how the blushed Katya was following him with her eyes. Here's a heartthrob. Poor girl.
Andrei Parovoznikov was known as a real Don Juan. Almost all the employees of the prosecutor's office under fifty were crazy about him, and sometimes even men gossiped about his stormy novels. Andrei was handsome with real male beauty. Such a copy of the ancient Viking - fair-haired, blue-eyed, broad-shouldered. In addition, he had a great sense of humor, which women also liked. Lena in the first year of work also fell under the power of his charm, but managed to resist. She did not like this type, she always liked older men, more calm and intelligent. True, the current romance was more upsetting than pleased, but now she had no time to think about it.
"So, that's it, I'm done," Nikitin announced, taking off his gloves. - We can turn around. Lena, are you in the office?
- Yes. Can I come with you? The car didn't start in the morning.
“Buy a normal one,” Parovoznikov snorted. - What, mom and dad won't help?
- Andryushenka, my parents are lawyers, not oligarchs, and you can’t roam on your own salary.
- Get a loan.
- My principle is not to live in debt.
“Then suffer,” Andrei graciously allowed, watching Lena seal the premises.
"Where to begin? Lena thought as she sat in her office and stared blankly at the papers laid out in front of her. “Could it be murder after all?” But there must be a motive. Someone third? Need to work. Although suicide also raises questions. I do not like such direct evidence that does not raise doubts, they alert me.
Her head hurt, and Lena, without looking, took out a pack of painkillers from the desk drawer and popped a pill into her mouth. An hour later, Parovoznikov arrived with a list of those who had been in the Strelkovs' house. The housekeeper even gave each visitor a brief description, which was especially helpful.
The first surname seemed familiar to Lena.
- Golitsyn, Golitsyn ... How do I know this name? - she muttered and reached into a thick diary, where she used to write down phone numbers: she did not trust the mobile address book.
Golitsyn was not there, although Lena honestly reviewed all the written pages.
- Maybe it did. Okay, I'll figure it out later.
Glancing at her watch, Lena found that she could leave for lunch. She put on a raincoat, left the office and looked at the door opposite:
- Nikolai Petrovich, am I running to a cafe?
“Didn’t you call anyone for two hours today?” The prosecutor looked up at her and took off his glasses.
- For tomorrow. Today, unexpectedly, work has stopped.
- Oh, yes, the Strelkovs. You come to me after dinner, we'll think.
Elena Kroshina has been working in the prosecutor's office for ten years. She came there as an intern and stayed, although her parents thought that her daughter would continue the family tradition and become a lawyer. But Lena did not want nepotism - she was afraid that she would be under the pressure of parental authority. Father said nothing, although he frowned displeasedly, and mother drank valerian for a long time in the kitchen, picturesquely putting her hand to her forehead.
– How do you imagine it? She cast piercing glances at her daughter, who was sitting there. “You don’t want everyone to think that we are pushing you, it’s embarrassing for you. Would it be convenient for you to run into business with one of us?
Mom, don't exaggerate. You have not dealt with criminal offenses for a long time, you have a different specialization. My dad doesn't even seem to notice.
- Of course! He will not notice that his daughter is investigating the case!
“Don’t be dramatic,” Lena grimaced. “You might think I didn’t go to the prosecutor’s office, but, I don’t know, to a strip club.
- Still not enough! mum snapped, forgetting about the glass of valerian.
- Here you see. And it could be so.
Marina Kramer
Secrets of grown girls
Do not look at this world with fear and disgust. Boldly face what the gods offer you.
Morihei Ueshiba, founder of modern aikido
Inspection of the scene always caused conflicting feelings in Lena. On the one hand, she was not afraid of corpses and the sight of blood; over the years of work, this became a habit and ceased to irritate and cause disgust. But on the other hand... Every time behind this phrase "inspection of the scene" there was someone's broken fate, even two - the one who was killed, and the one who killed. And today, it seems, you won’t have to look for a long time. According to the expert, both shots were fired from the same weapon, and it is firmly held in the hand of a corpse lying next to the bed in a spacious bedroom. Here, on the bed, is the second body.
“Someone cracked his skull with a point-blank shot,” expert Ivan Igorevich Nikitin sighed, having finished examining the body on the bed. - You can take it away. And we'll take care of the girl.
Lena shifted her gaze to the second corpse. In front of her lay a blonde woman, face down on the floor, dressed in blue jeans and a multicolored knitted cardigan. The inlet on the right temple left almost no doubt - suicide. In the right hand was firmly clamped "Makarov". Nikitin carefully pulled the pistol from the victim's whitened fingers and lowered it into the plastic bag handed to him:
- It's for examination. But, most likely, nothing will be needed here: the sleeves seem to be similar. Let's turn the lady around. He carefully rolled the corpse onto its back and gasped, “Wow! Yes, this is Zhanna Strelkova. Doing brothers...
Lena came closer and looked into the face of the dead woman. It seemed vaguely familiar to her. I strained my memory and realized that the expert was right: it really was Zhanna Strelkova, the owner of the art gallery, a very famous person who several years ago headed the foundation for the fight against cancer. Just a couple of days ago, her gallery transferred a large amount of money to the account of a local hospital, all local channels and even one federal one trumpeted about it. A young, beautiful, wealthy woman - and suddenly a shot in the temple?
“It’s strange somehow,” Lena muttered, squatting down and examining the dead woman’s hand.
- What exactly?
Nikitin continued his examination. Now he was dictating the data to the trainee Katya.
Why would she shoot herself in the temple?
- Not much. The rich, Lenochka, have their own jokes.
- And the second corpse we have - Strelkov Valery Ivanovich, Zhanna's father? Don't you think it's somehow...
Do you think it's staged?
- I admit it. She couldn't have killed her own father, could she?
The operatives had already finished inspecting the house, and now one of them, Captain Andrey Parovoznikov, was waiting for what other orders Lena would give. He stood at the door of the bedroom and also peered intently into the face of the dead woman.
“There were no signs of forced entry or any other intrusion,” he said.
“Were the other inhabitants of the palace questioned?” Lena turned to him.
- Yes. The cook came at six in the morning, but he does not walk around the house, he has a door directly into the kitchen, his own key. We'll check it out, of course. The housekeeper has a day off today, I took the address and phone number, I will leave right now. Kostya is talking to the gardener.
“Is the gardener the one who discovered the bodies?”
- Yes. Today he was supposed to go to the greenhouse for some kind of tree, he went in to get money from the owner. He usually gets up early, but today he was not in the office. The gardener decided to go up to the bedroom, and here it is. He immediately called the police. By the way, the security of the village swears that there were no other people's cars. They have strict records, but the mayor lives here. We looked at the magazine: all the numbers of the cars match those on the list.
- This means nothing. They might not have come by car.
“Yeah, in a blue helicopter,” Parovoznikov snorted. “That doesn’t happen here, Elena Denisovna.
- Okay, let's figure it out. Did you find something interesting in the documents?
- Nothing. Her office is on the third floor, where there are only reports on the financial receipts for the fund and the expenditure of funds. There are some pieces of paper in the gallery and a report on the exhibition - an estimate and so on. Yes, another act of buying a painting by Grabar.
- What is the picture? Lena asked.
- It seems, "March snow". Andrew reached into his notebook. - Yes, exactly, one thousand nine hundred and four, a picture.
“It can't be,” Katya suddenly said, and Lena and Andrey turned to her.
- Because it is stored in the Tretyakov Gallery.
- It is unlikely that what our gallery bought is the original. More like a copy. But I can ask my mother, she will tell you for sure.
- And who is our mother? - Andrey asked respectfully: people who are versed in art seemed to him a little gods, or something.
Marina Kramer
Secrets of grown girls
Do not look at this world with fear and disgust. Boldly face what the gods offer you.
Morihei Ueshiba, founder of modern aikido
Inspection of the scene always caused conflicting feelings in Lena. On the one hand, she was not afraid of corpses and the sight of blood; over the years of work, this became a habit and ceased to irritate and cause disgust. But on the other hand... Every time behind this phrase "inspection of the scene" there was someone's broken fate, even two - the one who was killed, and the one who killed. And today, it seems, you won’t have to look for a long time. According to the expert, both shots were fired from the same weapon, and it is firmly held in the hand of a corpse lying next to the bed in a spacious bedroom. Here, on the bed, is the second body.
“Someone cracked his skull with a point-blank shot,” expert Ivan Igorevich Nikitin sighed, having finished examining the body on the bed. - You can take it away. And we'll take care of the girl.
Lena shifted her gaze to the second corpse. In front of her lay a blonde woman, face down on the floor, dressed in blue jeans and a multicolored knitted cardigan. The inlet on the right temple left almost no doubt - suicide. In the right hand was firmly clamped "Makarov". Nikitin carefully pulled the pistol from the victim's whitened fingers and lowered it into the plastic bag handed to him:
- It's for examination. But, most likely, nothing will be needed here: the sleeves seem to be similar. Let's turn the lady around. He carefully rolled the corpse onto its back and gasped, “Wow! Yes, this is Zhanna Strelkova. Doing brothers...
Lena came closer and looked into the face of the dead woman. It seemed vaguely familiar to her. I strained my memory and realized that the expert was right: it really was Zhanna Strelkova, the owner of the art gallery, a very famous person who several years ago headed the foundation for the fight against cancer. Just a couple of days ago, her gallery transferred a large amount of money to the account of a local hospital, all local channels and even one federal one trumpeted about it. A young, beautiful, wealthy woman - and suddenly a shot in the temple?
“It’s strange somehow,” Lena muttered, squatting down and examining the dead woman’s hand.
- What exactly?
Nikitin continued his examination. Now he was dictating the data to the trainee Katya.
Why would she shoot herself in the temple?
- Not much. The rich, Lenochka, have their own jokes.
- And the second corpse we have - Strelkov Valery Ivanovich, Zhanna's father? Don't you think it's somehow...
Do you think it's staged?
- I admit it. She couldn't have killed her own father, could she?
The operatives had already finished inspecting the house, and now one of them, Captain Andrey Parovoznikov, was waiting for what other orders Lena would give. He stood at the door of the bedroom and also peered intently into the face of the dead woman.
“There were no signs of forced entry or any other intrusion,” he said.
“Were the other inhabitants of the palace questioned?” Lena turned to him.
- Yes. The cook came at six in the morning, but he does not walk around the house, he has a door directly into the kitchen, his own key. We'll check it out, of course. The housekeeper has a day off today, I took the address and phone number, I will leave right now. Kostya is talking to the gardener.
“Is the gardener the one who discovered the bodies?”
- Yes. Today he was supposed to go to the greenhouse for some kind of tree, he went in to get money from the owner. He usually gets up early, but today he was not in the office. The gardener decided to go up to the bedroom, and here it is. He immediately called the police. By the way, the security of the village swears that there were no other people's cars. They have strict records, but the mayor lives here. We looked at the magazine: all the numbers of the cars match those on the list.
- This means nothing. They might not have come by car.
“Yeah, in a blue helicopter,” Parovoznikov snorted. “That doesn’t happen here, Elena Denisovna.
- Okay, let's figure it out. Did you find something interesting in the documents?
- Nothing. Her office is on the third floor, where there are only reports on the financial receipts for the fund and the expenditure of funds. There are some pieces of paper in the gallery and a report on the exhibition - an estimate and so on. Yes, another act of buying a painting by Grabar.
- What is the picture? Lena asked.
- It seems, "March snow". Andrew reached into his notebook. - Yes, exactly, one thousand nine hundred and four, a picture.
“It can't be,” Katya suddenly said, and Lena and Andrey turned to her.
This is what happens in the life of an investigator: the more thoroughly you immerse yourself in a complex case, the more similarities you find between yourself and the victim. Maybe Lena is not given this story because she sees herself in the murdered Jeanne: the same indecision and timidity in relations with her beloved, the same crystal-clear honesty, fear of condemnation, dependence on someone else's opinion. Their parents were too closely related in the past - so, maybe that's why the infallible Lena from the prosecutor's office and Saint Jeanne, the daughter of a shadowy bigwig, seem almost sisters? ..
The work was published in 2017 by the Eksmo publishing house. The book is part of the "Queen of Crime Passions" series. On our site you can download the book "Secrets of Adult Girls" in fb2, rtf, epub, pdf, txt format or read online. The rating of the book is 4.2 out of 5. Here, before reading, you can also refer to the reviews of readers who are already familiar with the book and find out their opinion. In the online store of our partner you can buy and read the book in paper form.
