are you messing with me? I’ve been sick of your dumb jokes since we were in school.»
«I’m sorry Lena, I really was talking about the janitor.»
«Oh god.»
«We didn’t discover the coat in question,» the operative confessed and instantly began looking for an excuse. «There probably never was one to begin with!»
«Why are you so certain?»
«We asked the janitor. Who else could have taken the coat out of the trash? It was either him or the bums. But, the janitor doesn’t work in the evening. And the bums make their rounds during the day, when it’s light out. However, Mrs. Maltseva claims that she threw the coat away when it had just gotten dark. If that were the case, we would have found the coat that same evening. Think about it yourself, Lena, who’s going to go digging around in the trash? Only field ops. And even then, just the ones that have the dreaded Noose for a supervisor.»
The detective ignored this little jibe. If the case required it, she’d send them to the bottom of the ocean. In fact, that too had happened before. And not just once. Our dear criminal friends often like to toss material evidence into deep waters, hoping that that’ll be that. Luckily, Misha Ustinov has a lovely device that can render the ocean floor in stark detail.
Elena’s hand twirled the pencil over a summary of yesterday’s incidents in Aprelevka. The section dealing with murders and severe bodily injuries was heavily underlined.
«So there is no coat,» concluded Elena.
«Nor gloves, nor glasses,» the captain joined in enthusiastically. «We went through the janitor’s trove. He’s a collector of every half-decent thing that gets thrown out. I even picked out a children’s coat and some tiny overalls for myself.»
«Why? What do you need them for?»
«Well…» Marat hesitated.
Elena recalled why he had been thrown out of the city’s organized crime division. Operative Nikita Dobrokhotov had perished as a consequence of Valeyev’s actions. Internal Affairs had spent three months investigating Marat. It was only due to a general’s intercession that Valeyev managed to remain in the service at all. That was how he ended up in Petelina’s district.
«Nikita Dobrokhotov has a kid,» Elena guessed.
«Two.»
«How old?»
«The girl’s starting fourth grade. The boy’s going to be five soon. The overalls are for him. They’re very nice actually.»
«Eh, Marat, why didn’t you tell me earlier? I have so many of Nastya’s old clothes from when she was younger.»
«Look Lena, this is kind of a personal matter. Don’t tell anyone, okay..?»
«What nonsense! I don’t want to hear another word. „A personal matter!“ I’ll get the clothes ready for you and you’ll come by to pick them up. As for the ones you got from the janitor, take them to the dry cleaners first.»
«That’s a good idea. I hadn’t thought of that.»
«Well, therein lies the difference between women and men.»
«There are other difference too,» the captain humbly submitted.
«Let’s stick to work, Captain Valeyev.» Elena reached for a printout from the State Traffic Inspectorate database and circled a license plate number with her pencil. «You didn’t find the coat, but I found the car.»
«What car?» asked the operative surprised.
«The Volvo. A red one, as luck would have it.»
«You’re getting a new car?»
«It belongs to a woman who was born a brunette but prefers to be a blonde.»
«Lena, I’m not following.»
Misha Ustinov came flying into the detective’s office. Petelina put the phone down and switched her attention to the expert. Her eyes burned with anticipation.
«Well?»
«I’ve figure it out, Detective Petelina, all of it! I’ve already made the call. You know what they told me?»
Petelina greedily listened to his brief report. Her worst fears had been confirmed. She snatched up the phone and yelled, «Valeyev, get over here this instant!»
14
Using a finely sharpened pencil, Detective Petelina doodled an abstract design on a blank sheet of paper. This time, the drawing was coming out all convoluted and scratchy. In the room with her, Marat Valeyev could barely contain his shock as he listened to the recording of Inna Maltseva’s interrogation, while Vanya Mayorov stood leaning against the windowsill and quietly sipped his tea.
«What a business!» the captain exclaimed once the recording had ended. «So this little dormouse knocked off two people? First some lady and then her husband!»
«I checked yesterday’s incidents report for Aprelevka. There’s no record of a murder there.»
«Why would she lie?» Valeyev furrowed his brow.
«Well, for one, to draw out the case.»
«Come on now, career criminals who’ve chalked up four stiffs make up one or two more to throw us off. This lady doesn’t fit the bill.»
«Another option is to incriminate herself and then beat the charges at trial,» the detective suggested.
«Exactly! Maltseva’s just messing with us. She wanted to off her husband but mistook his brother for him. After all, he did show up unexpected and was wearing Dmitry’s bathrobe. Then, when we nabbed her, she decided to come up with another murder.»
«She’s playing the fool,» Ivan agreed. He had been contemplating whether it would be inappropriate of him to dump out the last, cold dregs of tea into the detective’s flower pot.
«Scrambling our brains,» Valeyev echoed.
«If that were the case, I wouldn’t have called you here so urgently.»
«Why, I am up for anything at any moment, like a boy scout.» Valeyev had trouble pulling off a humble smile convincingly.
Elena frowned and looked down at her papers.
«We corroborated a number of details from Inna Maltseva’s statements,» she said.
«Such as?»
«There is in fact a certain Oksana Drozdova residing in Aprelevka. She is 32 and her address is 24 Dorozhnaya Street. Also, she likes to bleach her hair.»
«A blonde.»
«What’s more is Drozdova owns a red Volvo.»
«A blonde with a red ride – nothing farfetched about that,» Vanya proclaimed a bit of worldly wisdom, while secretly relishing the fact that Galya Nesterova wasn’t some painted bimbo, but a real woman with real hair: He liked her close-cropped cut with its short braid and he also reckoned that there wouldn’t be anything weird or creepy in it if he brought her a flower or, say, a cactus to protect her from her PC’s electromagnetic radio waves. He could tell her that he’d brought it from home and had nowhere to put it. Galya would be pleasantly surprised of course. «Do you have an entire orchard at home?» she would ask and he would nod and offer to show it to her. Then, she would come over and—
«Red’s a rare color for a Volvo.» Valeyev’s remark cut short Mayorov fantastical orbit and sent him plummeting down to the detective’s office with all the grace of a descent vehicle on a parachute-less trajectory into the ocean.
«And now for the best part.» Petelina picked up a printout. «Misha Ustinov pulled up Oksana Drozdova’s contact info and sent me her photo. Have a look.»
The detective handed her phone