A person who loves the rain. Алексей Аркадьевич МухинЧитать онлайн книгу.
leaving the office, he tried to figure out who had brought the envelope. There were security cameras in the prosecutor's office, but he still couldn't find out anything. Alexei grabbed a folder from the desk and headed to the morgue to get the autopsy results.
"Well, what can I tell you," forensic expert Semyonych greeted him grandly, adjusting his gloves. He began to speak in a complex manner, with the dark humor typical of his job. "An old chap, almost decomposed… Must have been a bad one, probably."
"What's the deal?" Alexei asked.
"Got a little tattoo, ex-con… And a bullet right in the forehead," Semyonych pulled back the sheet from the body, and Alexei saw what was left of the man who had been in the ground for so long.
"See?" Semyonych pointed to the bullet.
Alexei nodded.
"And the second one?"
"Yeah, same story, Lenchik, and also a bullet in the forehead. Come back after lunch, and you can pick up the report."
"I’ve already had lunch."
"Well, I, the hardworking one, haven’t had time," Semyonych muttered as he fiddled with his tools. "Go on, your buddy Filatov’s hanging around here."
"What’s he doing here? His father sent him elsewhere."
"Ask him yourself," Semyonych replied, taking off his gloves, running his hand over his "Stas Mikhailov-style" beard, and then washing his hands.
"Alright, Semyonych, I’ll be back."
"Yeah," Semyonych nodded. "Oh, right, Leon… you asked for this." He pulled a small box from the desk and handed it to Alexei. "These are the items found with him. The ring’s the main thing; the rest didn’t survive."
"Semyonych, thanks," Alexei smiled gratefully. "I almost forgot." He opened the bag and took out the silver ring with a garnet stone.
"Beautiful," Alexei muttered, slipping the ring back into the bag as he headed for the hallway.
Leon Filatov was easy to spot from afar. Though he was 45, short, and starting to go gray, he had a certain charm. He often attracted people with his amusing expressions, his ability to listen, and the way his small, dark eyes lit up in a lively conversation.
There was always a lot of noise around him. At the end of the hallway, he was standing surrounded by young female employees from the prosecutor's office, apparently entertaining them with some tall tale, as the laughter echoing through the building didn’t quite suit the setting.
"Leon!" Alexei called out to him.
"Alexei, hey!" Leon responded, excited, clearly catching his breath between jokes.
"Where are you supposed to be working?" Alexei asked jokingly.
"Alright, girls, the jokes are over," Filatov turned to the ladies he had been entertaining.
The young women shifted their attention from Filatov to Alexei, who was younger and more handsome than their storyteller. Noticing this, Filatov fell silent, darting his eyes between the women.
"Ah…" he stretched out. His expression grew serious, as if he were about to say something very important. "The guy had a tough childhood, his dad’s the district prosecutor."
The girls burst into laughter again.
"You're such a rascal," Alexei said with a smile, looking at his friend. He took Filatov by the arm, and they moved aside.
"Hey, Alexei, have you eaten yet?" Filatov asked before Alexei could speak.
"I have. I had lunch before I came here."
"Lucky you. I haven’t eaten yet… Let’s go grab something, you can keep me company."
"Alright," Alexei hesitated, "let’s go, I’ll have some coffee."
They both walked toward the exit. After settling nearby in a café, Alexey asked:
"Lenya, how long are you going to keep arguing with your father?"
"Well… you're asking some tough questions…" Filatov retorted.
"I'm sick of both of you!" Alexey said, opening the menu.
"Alright, what are you doing here anyway?" Filatov asked.
"My dad gave me a case."
"That one about the bodies in the swamps?!" Filatov asked eagerly.
"Yeah, why?"
"Damn, I asked for that case myself! There's just a cold case report to write up and that's it."
"Well, that's why I got it… he said they needed to open a case."
"Why?" Filatov looked at Alexey in confusion.
"I don't know," Alexey shrugged it off.
"There are wildfires in the region, the swamps are burning, and now all the old 'who did what where' is floating up," Filatov sighed sadly.
"It's an unusual case. I'm curious what happened there 30 years ago."
"When are you planning to go?" Filatov asked, waving to the waitress.
"I'll sit with you for a bit. Semyonich said he'll have the results after lunch, so I'll probably head straight there to check the crime scene. By the way, why are you here?"
"You heard about Goryainov getting whacked?" Filatov asked.
"No… seriously?! That's crazy! Goryainov himself? What's going to happen to the Goryainov criminal group now?" Alexey closed the menu.
"I took the case myself," Filatov bragged, "just waiting for the forensics, then I'll wrap everything up and send it to court… it's clear whose hand was behind it… Have you seen the new girl?"
"No, what's up?"
"Oh, I see that look in your eyes," Filatov teased Alexey, "she's a beauty… They say she was the star in her last district."
The waitress approached. The friends placed their orders.
"Is she really that smart?" Alexey asked.
"Seems like she's got some talent. By the way, she's buying drinks today."
"I won’t go… What's her name?"
"Raisa Zakharna," Filatov joked.
"Get out of here with your jokes!"
"Shvedova Larisa," Filatov replied.
"Alright. Let's go. I'll give you a ride back."
"You're driving? That's great!"
The area greeted Alexey with little friendliness. The emergency workers had done their job well, the fire was out, but the stench of burning peat was overwhelming. Finding a stick, Alexey grabbed it and headed toward the swamp where two bodies had been found. The swamp seemed mostly dried up, but occasionally his feet would sink in. He used the stick to find a path and made his way deeper between the trees. A clearing appeared, and he stepped into it. His pants were, of course, dirty, with burrs stuck to them. About a hundred steps ahead stood a small house. Either a forester’s cabin or something similar, but clearly, a local forestry employee had once lived here. As he got closer, Alexey looked around. The house was completely dilapidated, the plaster crumbling, the walls overgrown with grass, and the windows shattered for some reason. The paint on the window frames was peeling, and there was an empty doghouse where a dog probably used to live. He decided to go inside. Glass jars were on the windowsill, some broken, but all covered in a thick layer of dust. Everything was clean and tidy, giving the impression that a new owner was expected to move in. The fridge in the corner was empty. A bed covered with a blanket, wooden stools. The heat was unbearable. Alexey found a relatively clean spot and laid his jacket down. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. From here, the place where the two bodies had been found was clearly visible. He walked over to the window, wiped the dust off the table, and placed the expert report there.
"…shots from a hunting rifle from a distance of one hundred meters… both were killed…"
– "One was killed at a distance of one meter…