The sun was setting down and people were catching last rays of sun in that cold winter's day.
Walking along the river I pondered about the recent turnovers that had occurred since I took over the murder case. Since the death of the first child the number of killed children increased to 9. The murderer hit almost as often as once per week. All that he was leaving behind was a piece of paper on child's body thrust inside. Kronberg pushed the hypothesis that the messages were supposed to decode the murderer but my nose led me to contact with my father's friend from the Altai university. He was an expert on deciphering such messages and finding a proper context around them. He was my hope to interpret these murders.
On the other hand, there was a problem with the press. Krasnaja Gazeta kept on publishing awkward for Sovnarkom articles that pissed off Kronberg. He started to suspect that I might work with her, the journalistic spy, as he called the best journalistic pen among the newspapers. Kronberg was a cunning fox and several times wanted to get information from me. Till now he hasn't managed to achieve it but I know he will. He is too good to let it go like this. Kronberg will sniff like a dog every false premise, every tiny lie and will turn it against me. I know I cannot even tell my old droog about my feelings towards her. It's not that I don't trust him, this information can be lethal to him. Kronberg knows how to direct the conversation to get information from rabbits like Pietia. I have to protect my circle of friends.
Kozlowsky took out a pile of files, sat down on a wooden bank beside the river and with frozen fingers started to turn over pages. Although there was sun, the temperature dropped down to -20. Kozlowsky took out a hip-flask and took a good gulp of vodka from it.
Now, let's see what the professor wrote on these sheets. Let's hope there's something of some value for me...
Kozlowsky started to read the first page from time to time drinking from his flask. He didn't notice that a man near him sat down on the frozen river and started to dig a hole in the ice, evidently wanting to fish. Maybe too evidently.
Walking along the river I pondered about the recent turnovers that had occurred since I took over the murder case. Since the death of the first child the number of killed children increased to 9. The murderer hit almost as often as once per week. All that he was leaving behind was a piece of paper on child's body thrust inside. Kronberg pushed the hypothesis that the messages were supposed to decode the murderer but my nose led me to contact with my father's friend from the Altai university. He was an expert on deciphering such messages and finding a proper context around them. He was my hope to interpret these murders.
On the other hand, there was a problem with the press. Krasnaja Gazeta kept on publishing awkward for Sovnarkom articles that pissed off Kronberg. He started to suspect that I might work with her, the journalistic spy, as he called the best journalistic pen among the newspapers. Kronberg was a cunning fox and several times wanted to get information from me. Till now he hasn't managed to achieve it but I know he will. He is too good to let it go like this. Kronberg will sniff like a dog every false premise, every tiny lie and will turn it against me. I know I cannot even tell my old droog about my feelings towards her. It's not that I don't trust him, this information can be lethal to him. Kronberg knows how to direct the conversation to get information from rabbits like Pietia. I have to protect my circle of friends.
Kozlowsky took out a pile of files, sat down on a wooden bank beside the river and with frozen fingers started to turn over pages. Although there was sun, the temperature dropped down to -20. Kozlowsky took out a hip-flask and took a good gulp of vodka from it.
Now, let's see what the professor wrote on these sheets. Let's hope there's something of some value for me...
Kozlowsky started to read the first page from time to time drinking from his flask. He didn't notice that a man near him sat down on the frozen river and started to dig a hole in the ice, evidently wanting to fish. Maybe too evidently.
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