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Who killed stand-up comedian Lilya Kolyuki. Alla KrasnovaЧитать онлайн книгу.

Who killed stand-up comedian Lilya Kolyuki - Alla Krasnova


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rare applause)

      – What’s so weak, huh? Here’s a girl, why don’t you have it? What? Are you waiting for love? That’s good, and how long will you wait? Ah, there’s still time… Well, our problem is that we think there’s still time, that we’ll still have time to do everything. But what if we suddenly die, and we haven’t had a single rest.

      (Laughter in the hall)

      Delilah and I looked at each other. This monologue did not evoke much sympathy; there were few comments and few likes under the video; they mostly discussed the other participant. But considering that Lilya Kolyuki disappeared, these words now sounded mystically honest, although not at all funny.

      Chapter two

      I didn’t have to luxuriate in my warm bed for long. Already at eight in the morning Delilah woke me up, dressed and ready for new challenges. This was surprising to me, because all my women – who had been here before – got up with a roar, with the buzzing of a hairdryer, with the clinking of cutlery, the sound of water in the bathroom, with the rustling of plastic bags. Then we put on makeup for another half hour, then looked for something to wear and rattled our steps. That is why I was not ready to let any female into my apartment. Delilah got ready without noise or dust. I didn’t even hear her do it. Until three o’clock, she and I discussed Lilya Kolyuki and watched her stand-up performances. Then I went to bed, leaving Delilah to sleep on the sofa, which was located in the kitchen. And at eight in the morning she was ready to leave.

      We wanted to go to Lily Kolyuki’s apartment to collect as much information as possible about her, then we were going to meet with her aunt, Tamara Isaakovna Manulova. It is noteworthy that Lily herself had the same last name, and Kolyuki was her stage name.

      “I made coffee,” Delilah said, standing with a mug of black coffee that was still steaming. – I did it to you too. Do you like cappuccino?

      “Yes, thank you,” I told her, still lying in bed. I can’t say that it was awkward for me to appear in a lying position in front of a colleague, but still an element of awkwardness remained. And only she behaved relaxed.

      “I’ll get dressed and go out now,” I said.

      She nodded.

      There were no doors to my room initially, no one expected that my colleagues would spend the night with me. I quickly took a shower and got ready. But then Delilah shocked me with another piece of news:

      – While you were in the shower, Artem Tomich called me, well, the one from the forensic department, remember him?

      “I remember,” I answered.

      – Well, in Lily Kolyuka’s apartment they found traces of blood on the desk, a little, and a farewell note. And while we won’t be able to get into her apartment, investigative actions are ongoing there.

      – What’s in the note? – I asked.

      Delilah came up to me and showed me a photograph of a piece of paper on which two strange lines were written, and it could not be said that it was a coherent text, because each of the lines seemed to live its own life.

      We were confused, not knowing what to do next. But they decided to call her aunt anyway.

      – We need to talk to her aunt, – suggested Dalila. – We’ll also ask where else Lilya has been, besides her apartment.

      – Excellent idea, – I answered.

      The conversation with Lilya Kolyuki’s aunt didn’t last long, although we managed to get through to her on the first try. She wasn’t ready to meet us, saying that she was leaving for another city on business right now. She answered briefly and wasn’t in the mood to keep up the conversation, as if we weren’t talking about her niece, whom she was looking for, but about a stranger.

      – Lilya only owned one apartment, where she lived? – asked Dalila.

      – Yes, only this one, – answered Tamara Isaakovna.

      – Did she often visit her relatives? – asked Dalila.

      – She hasn’t been there in the last ten years. She only talked to me sometimes, and she hasn’t talked to her mother for a long time. “I’ve already answered these questions,” Lili’s aunt muttered discontentedly.

      “Ask if there is a dacha, a country house or something like that,” I quietly said to Dalila.

      “Does she have a country house or a dacha?” Dalila asked, prompted by me.

      “Yes,” her aunt answered after a pause. “Only no one goes there. They are her grandmothers,” answered Tamara Isaakovna.

      The conversation with her aunt was difficult, and when it ended, Dalila breathed a sigh of relief.

      “What a difficult person!” Dalila said about her. And nevertheless, as a result of this dialogue, we had the address of the dacha where Lilya Kolyuki, or rather Liliya Manulova, could come.

      This house, as we managed to find out, belonged to her grandmother, with whom she lived. Four years ago, her grandmother died and bequeathed her apartment to her.The country house was divided between her and her half-brother, who lived with her mother and stepfather in another apartment. The country house, according to her aunt, was abandoned and no one needed. The land on which it was located was also not of particular value. And yet, Delilah and I decided to go there, since we could not get into her apartment for several more days.

      ***

      Delilah was driving, which made me happy because I needed to think. And I would have succeeded if Delilah had not kept interjecting her questions into my thoughtful silence.

      – I wonder what we want to see there? she asked.

      “I don’t know,” I answered after a pause. – There are some things that you just have to do if you have the desire for it.

      – I wonder if we have it? – Delilah asked.

      – What?

      – Pursuit.

      I waved my hand casually, ending the topic.

      – Better ask if we’ll get there, after all it’s March, snowdrifts and snow, – I said.

      – We’ll get there, I have a jeep, after all, – smiled Delilah.

      It seemed to me that she wanted to show herself off as a really cool driver, but I didn’t want to see it, much less participate in it. So I asked her not to “drive recklessly” and not even try to drive where it was impossible to drive because of the snowdrifts.

      – What do you think of her “farewell” note? – I asked.

      – I don’t know. It’s kind of strange, – answered Delilah, confirming my thoughts.

      – That’s true.

      Two strange lines, written on a torn piece of paper and left on her desk:

      “This world is like a ball filled with reinforced concrete.

      It haunts me.”

      It was hard to understand from this note what she was writing about and who was stalking her. Since Lilya Kolyuki was a stand-up comedian, she could well have written something else, for example, poetry or something similar. These are just two lines that hardly qualify as a farewell note, but since Lilya Kolyuki had disappeared, all versions were considered.

      ***

      Surprisingly, we arrived safely, without getting stuck or stuck anywhere on the road. This happened by pure chance, because the road had been cleared literally a day ago and had not yet been covered with snow, and this, as I learned from the Internet, rarely happens.

      “Is this the same house?” asked Dalila, getting


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