The Department for Combating Organized Crime, which included Seregin and Regimov periodically, turned to a private detective agency, headed by an experienced detective – Korablevskaya Alice, who received the title of lawyer after graduating from the Academy of Law and defended her thesis there. She had an attractive appearance, preferred sports clothes: jeans, sneakers, she could drive her Volkswagen Touareg perfectly, fired a Kalashnikov assault rifle, always carried a Makarov pistol, bugs, knew several foreign languages, had rank Master of Sports mountaineering and biathlon, has uncovered not one criminal offense.
The private detective agency expanded its activities, traveling to one country and then to another to conduct search operations and eliminate criminal centers. For example, in Iraq, several operations were carried out to dismantle warehouses with weapons. Using the services of homeless people and informants, Alice received significant bonuses for a comfortable life. In this way policemen and investigators attracted their colleagues to investigate criminal offenses in order to rid themselves of bothersome troubles, but to deal with their immediate affairs: protecting citizens from outside interference and robbery.
“We need to call the police of the city of Tarasov, where Soshin came from, strangled in a pantry, to report what happened. At the same time call a private investigator – Alice. She will find us even a needle in a haystack for two hundred dollars an hour,” remarked Seregin, since he was already tired of this red tape with many unknown people.
He preferred to sit by the TV with a jar of beer, or watch football between Manchester United and Real Madrid, or the NHL, but did not renounce NBA G Leage, preferring Raptors’ matches with the Rio Grande Valley Vipers.
“By the way, let her search the dossier for this old man in the local archive. I do not remember. It seems that this name was found in the criminal chronicle. If we find out that he was guilty of some kind of criminal offense, it will be easy to calculate the attacker, starting from the victim or her relatives. People are able to remember the evildoers through generations. Even in fairy tales, there are positive and negative heroes: Duremar, Koschey the Immortal, the devil, the Count Dracula, Baba Yaga, for example,” Nikifor Naumovich ventured into reasoning, dreaming of closing the oncoming hanging.
“We did not have enough foxes. I remember well that Alice agreed to respond to this nickname, despite the fact that she has dozens of terrible, in its criminal nature, investigations after the end of our university and graduate school,” Seregin suddenly recalled, who sometimes treated Alice as a detective sometimes hostile, but more often with respect and love.
He had a fruitful long-standing romance with her, which culminated in legal marriage and mutual reconciliation in the dispute over the right of Russian citizens to private ownership on the Cote d’Azur. There they spent the summer together on vacation to enjoy active rest among the most respectable part of the population, and in winter – to the Swiss Alps, to train in mountain skiing.
“Probably not in vain she received diploma with honors. She opened the office under the name: ‘Private investigation’, ” the investigator stated with pride and some inner relief, remembering all that he was to do today and how much paperwork was taking away every new and intricate criminal offense.
Nikifor Naumovich earned many special awards for detaining dangerous criminals and recidivists. He was a man of business, intelligent, delicate to the extreme, prudent, but not a coward. He was engaged in periodically professional boxing, winning in several rounds without defeatist blows. He could predict the outcome of each complex investigation and considered it was his duty to warn the employees in advance about any planned operation to eliminate brothels, gambling houses, suspicious gatherings of homeless people, drug addicts. He never missed a dash. He liked to joke about his virtues, read many classics of Russian literature. Particular preference was given to Tvardovsky’s poetry, Dostoevsky’s prose, but more often he had to read criminal cases risen from the archive. He worn a strict suit out of work as an old habit, and preferred to put on his new uniform for work. His extraordinary thinking and logic puzzled the wolves of criminal business. Journalists and photo correspondents often held a press conference with him, but he evaded frank confessions, knowing what such confessions threaten the investigation. In a word, he could be called a titan who supported the code of law.
“We all depend on each other, so we’ll have to endure the terrible nature of Alice. The case requires it,” the investigator reflected on the difficulties of mutual understanding, coughed into a fist.
“They want to get results immediately, so that they do not panic from corruption and rampant banditry. Now we are not in the mood for laughter, when all policemen and soldiers who came to rest in a sanatorium calmly take electroplating procedures. Seregin and I have to spin. It is necessary to establish a lie detector for interrogation of suspicious witnesses. It seems I hid it in the safe, after the last time I checked on the polygraph, how many people participated in a fight near a hotel near Rome. Alas, such a primitive technique, and the results are phenomenal,” he was burned by his cynical idea.
The local phone rang. They asked permission from the electricians to go to their office and replace the table lamps. There were also a couple of calls from the administrator of the sanatorium – Kormushenko, who wanted to be present at the time when the suspects were arrested for the perpetrators of the death of an elderly man; in addition, Regimov’s wife called, she was worried about whether her husband had dined. He, as the Commissioner Megre, the protagonist of the series of popular novels of Georges Simenon, who had worked for many years in the police, essentially, according to many bloggers, “differed from his colleagues in an unconventional approach to investigating crimes”, followed a strict daily routine. He wore a gray coat of jersey fabric in winter, a warm scarf in speckles and a hat, as his colleague, Seregin, drove to work, which generally preferred wearing only fur jackets without a hat.
“It was only as a detective to spread out the cards, how the prose of life turned into poetry,” highly erudite Seregin retorted allegorically, hiding the mercury thermometers found in the suitcase of victim, into his desk standing at the left side of the window, and opposite it there was the same desk of his colleague.
“In hot pursuit, she will immediately provide us with all the suspects and proof of the guilt of some of them. What do you say to that?”
“You can have no doubt about her abilities,” Seregin answered with knowledge of Alice’s extreme methods of work.
“Here you have to meet her, so she immediately understands what is required of her,” said Nikifor Naumovich, examining a new lamp with a fluorescent light installed on his desk. “She, I think, will bring the right relative of the victim to bury the body. That would be very useful…”
“Of course. She can not cope with us, and the investigation will be flawlessly if there are necessary clues and material evidence that will fall on our table along with evidence of the murderer’s guilt,” Seregin suggested, proportioning each next step, sympathizing with those who would be in Alice’s field of vision.
“She does not take any strings and courage,” Nikifor Naumovich agreed, who planned to monitor the investigation of the private detective.
After a little reflection, the investigator, who is well versed in current affairs, telephoned the head doctor in the health resort “Glory to Sport” with healing springs to make an excerpt from Soshin’s medical history and immediately sent to them. The handset was taken by Mitrofanov himself, who received a charge of energy after a morning walk in the fresh air in the shade of southern relic plants and a cup of coffee. He wiped sweat from his face with a moist, fragrant napkin and threw it into the urn.
“I’m listening.”
“You are disturbed from the city police station. Now we have the body of your former patient. Send us his medical card. We will send to his former residence. I hope he did not have any chronic illnesses?” asked the operative policeman, trying to soften the tragic news.
“He died without regaining consciousness?” Mitrofanov’s voice faltered, so he sat down in a chair behind a massive, black, carved, writing desk and took his head.
“While the criminalists are trying to find out the cause of death,” Regimov replied calmly, feeling all responsibility for every word, bringing all of their actions closer to revealing the criminal offense.
“I’ll do it myself now,” Mitrofanov became nervous, accustomed to discipline and positive emotions from his patients.
He hung his handset in a daze, found a card with the proper name, and entered the information into the computer. Then he folded two gray sheets, glued an ordinary envelope, wrote clearly the address of the police, who was under his glass. He put a medical card with prescribed procedures Soshin, called the nurse on duty, and instructively ordered, looking around at her slender figure:
“Go to the post office. It is necessary to send this envelope. You will report.”
The girl respectfully took an urgent dispatch and in half an hour returned, looking into Mitrofanov’s office without knocking.
“I sent it with a notification. Here’s the receipt,” she said uneasily, submitting a receipt with a seal.
“It is done. They will now bother us with this letter. I’ll go to them tomorrow. They say that the new maid has already visited the police. And now I have no time. It is necessary to all, probably, there to appear, to prove the alibi. Let them watch our vacationers better. They themselves can find everything very quickly if they use video cameras.
Mitrofanov was proud of his responsible personnel and could not afford a single gram that the slightest shade of suspicion fell on the well-functioning medical staff of the sanatorium.
“Do I have to show up to them, too?” she asked, soberly assessing the situation, since she had been prescribed treatment procedures for vacationers who would have to cancel.
“Good. We’ll go to the police together with our old employees on my jeep. I order this separately.”
“Peter Solomonovich, athletes need radon baths and massage.”
“We have the masseurs. I’ll call my friends – the administrator – Vladimir Kormushenko and the animator – Sasha Mahmudov. They have taken courses and will continue to massage in a sanatorium near the pool.”
The nurse, having received instructions, left, reflecting on the essence of being and the complex professional relationship between the chief physician and his subordinates. With care, Mitrofanov took out of the closet the personal files of the recently admitted employees, except those who were supervised by the administrator – Chetvertov Ira: waitresses, cooks, maids, gardener and security guards. He trusted Kormushenko completely, as he studied with his father in high school, was familiar with his family. The guy was respected for his sporting achievements. He received, like Hercules, for his exploits and achievements in circus arenas, twelve awards and cups that stood under the glass in the foyer of the sanatorium, proving his prestige in the sphere of tourism and sports at the world level.
Once during the service as a contractor in the fire department Kormushenko was on duty as an uniformist and trainee in the circus-cape Kazbek. When there was a performance with wild animals, there was a fire. Someone threw a cigarette butt to the floor and the whole tent caught fire. The people themselves were taken to the air by artists: voltigeur gymnasts, equilibrists, jugglers, clowns, musical eccentrics, a magician and Shprehshtalmeister – an inspector of an arena leading a circus show.
The tamer of wild beasts ordered Kormushenko, who was standing at the entrance, to help him escort the lion from the cage to the approaching wagon. But the lion resisted and did not want to obey. Then they had to shoot a gun with a sleeping pill and wait for the animal to fall asleep, and afterwards, together with the tamer, he loaded a carcass weighing half a ton into the carriage and pushed a lion into the barred car. Anaconda was carried over the shoulders by Kormushenko. More precisely, Hercules strangled the “Nemean” lion and killed the “Lernaean” hydra, in this particular case everything happened the other way around. But, like the true hero of greek myths, he caught alive the so-called “Eriimantsk” wild boar, devastating supplies of fruit for the whole troupe, and the “Kerinean” doe standing side by side. They hardly breathed from the caustic, gray, all-pervasive smoke. He caught them himself, huddled in the cupboard, between the counters.
In the turmoil of randomly forgotten “Stymphalian” birds, as mentioned in the legend, Vladimir did not kill eagles with strong claws, beaks, variegated feathers and pedigreed trained pigeons. He headed all the artists of the circus team, handing them the poles to kick the birds in the hung up wet cradles. Pigeons amicably, cooing, noisily sat on sticks, which the strongman had to endure, and the eagle, clutching his head, showed a wide scope of flight. Expensive shiny suits, hidden in suitcases and hung in the dressing room, and so could not be saved from dampness. They all got soaked and dirty, losing an external shiny appearance.
However, he obtained not one belt of the queen of the amazons of Ippolita, made by special order, but as many as ten. With such an exclusive miracle, his friend Alexandra, the daughter of the director himself – Jew – Isaac Petrovich Moiseyev – acted as a fairy. The guy himself took out wet suitcases, boxes with props and toilets in the adjoining park. Then the impudent uniformist, noticing that the fire began to make its way to the arena and stables, covered the flame with the plume of a suit flying under the dome, pop stars, and two-times world champion.
The fire ceased to spread around the perimeter of the arena. He drove out three white, two brown and two black Orlov tribal trotters into the circus enclosure, where rehearsals of performances took place. The tamer – Diomed Dionisovich Phillipov was so touched that he promised Kormushenko to give a small stallion when one of the mares would calve. Employee Eugene began to panic, losing his composure; he poured fresh manure, prepared for export, to bring down the flame in the zoo. Kormushenko, covering his nose with a rag, got under the arm, grabbed all the remains of the turf in a big pile, dumped everything into sacks. It turned out six potato fertilizer stocks for the next year.
Being in a special cage, a bull brought from Greece, from the island of Crete, he poured water with foam from the fire-pump. Everything went without sacrifice. The new Hercules put a fire barrier in the form of sandbags in the entrance and emergency doors, from where the audience came. High “Hercules pillars” were obtained to the very top of the auditorium, where Gibraltar, Seoul, geographical points and cities that honored artists with applause and flowers were indicated on a huge colorful billboard.
The director of the circus in gratitude awarded the active firefighter-uniformist with several medals and a high cup, inviting him to participate in the next performance in a month as a strong man.
With the director, they came up with a risky trick: a sword battle with two dangerous opponents. As a reward, Atlant, in the role of which his bosom escort friend in the fire department acted – Seregin, handed him the same gold and silver prizes in the form of “Hesperides apples”, which flaunted in the foyer of the sanatorium. The number was called: “Fight of Hercules with Antey and Hades”. For this, Kormushenko-Hercules was to decree for him for a day at the entrance to the sanatorium.
The battle caused an unrestrained delight in the auditorium. Seregin was the judge. He hid behind the back of one enemy, then another, when they half-naked fought with polished to shine honed swords. Beforehand they smeared with lavender oil, exuding an amazing aroma, brandished with cold weapons as in the Coliseum. To which women reacted with enthusiasm, and the men, having diligently spread out their chairs, tore into the battle, encouraging opponents not to fall, to keep their balance at the sight of blood. Kormushenko, defending himself after a long attack by Hades – Regimov, who specifically volunteered to participate in the performance to earn a trip home, wounded a policeman. He did not fall, scattering blood clots on the slippery floor, but rushed to the doctor, standing at the sliding edge, with frenzy, that he bandaged the wound. After a moment’s pause, the battle continued. They changed the lighting, occasionally sounded a drumbeat to give the mystery to the view. From the crowd teenagers began to jump in the arena with similar swords, found in attics or bought for a lot of money in the bazaar from visiting Italians trading from under the floor. No one dared to distract and separate them. They interfered, preventing opponents from converging in an unequal battle.
Finally, the judge’s whistle announced the end of the battle, but the angry public did not want to disperse. They demanded the continuation of the battle, hooting and whistling into horns and pipes, taken with them, to turn the show into an ordinary bravado. Then the real show began, creating the impression of a natural actuality. Someone noticed, frightened, lying on the curb block, obstructing the entrance to the arena, unconscious, the guy. It turned out that he portrayed that he had lost consciousness from a blow inflicted on his side by an unknown rival. When he stepped over the curb, clinging his foot, fell straight onto the ramp in an unconventional position. Getting up and coming to his senses, the guy began scratching his own sides, causing even more laughter of the fans dressed up and down. They ran up apparently-invisibly. The girls did not like to stay at home on such a crucial day when the question of sending conscripts to the army was being decided. They threw off their fashionable jeans and tunics, found them in a bikini, gracefully danced with their girlfriends in columns with bouquets in their hands, depicting a street performance. No applause and friendly cries of “Hurray!” were ignored by the ardent hunters of martial arts.
They pushed the guys to the background. Using his charm and air kisses, jumping, tumbling on the floor, covered with red velvet, swinging on ropes, as strong and well trained athlete, demonstrating the splendor, charm and glamour. Holding hands, they sang to the music famous melodies in plumes and chanted popular screams. Citizens themselves, who came quietly to see the show, unfolded from the bewitching spectacle. They admired the new models with flags and banners, rented, calling for the unification of the sexes in one category of the upper class. Can not imagine themselves without a holiday, beauty, fetish extravaganza initiated fireworks, fight clowns in colorful costumes and masks, bravura sounds orchestral pipe and cultural program with the singers and the corps de ballet, hunting bullfighters involved in the representation on the galloping light horses, fighting with light bulls and wild animals. Guests joyfully admired the artistic combination of circus art, plastic, the world of magic and the perfection of tricks.
Spectators standing applauded the dances of gymnasts on balls. There was no limit to the surprise, when all the actors of the mimans began to shower with serpentine, shining hearts, prepared for such a case, with champagne spray. The most courageous and desperate participants of the circus “Du Soleil” were awarded prizes and cups, as at the Olympics. They were put in cars accompanied by fans with flowers and transported to five-star hotels. Cars, whistling away, were enthralling those wishing to take a walk in the fresh air.
Such color and smoothness caused a positive response in the press. But there were specific laudatory articles. Where journalists praised the days of chivalry, when concubines were taken away, seated on the throne, crowned, and then ranked as a saint, praising the inconceivable feats performed by them. Like a national heroine of France – nineteen of age Jeanne d’Arc, burned in bonfire at the stake in Rouen in 1431, turned into ashes by the wind around the world.
To terminate the contract for next season with the management of the circus in the person of Moiseyev, animal lover, Kormushenko stumbled upon walking unattended St. Bernard puppy. He called the dog Kerber. He tied a leash around his neck and presented it to Isaac Petrovich, having repaid his help in the work done in the circus arena. It turned out that the animal was brought from Canada. Overheating in the sun, the puppy broke the rope and ran away at night. The owners were fined by Regimov, whose care for citizens was carried out daily. After that, they met closely with Kormushenko, when the court took place and the protocol of the court session was signed.
After serving in the company athlete circus, they have patrolled the cities of the Black Sea coast, the Stavropol Territory, Black Earth, Far East Kormushenko who has made a lot of amazing feats, had quarreled with his flighty girlfriend – actress of mimans that caused the approval of all holidaymakers prudish men visiting snobs, her classic figure, singing and pleasant manners.
However, for no reason, the girl turned into a real “meager”, ignoring the feelings of Kormushenko, she escaped from the circus with a foreign visitor to Turkey. Vladimir returned to Kislovodsk, settled the administrator in a sanatorium with healing springs, met with deputy director – Ira Chetvergova, who managed to win the heart of a good-natured strongman.