The day began with a cold and bright sunrise.
I put on more clothes and ran down the stairs. Two sovnarkom officers were waiting outside the building and smoking cigarettes. We went to the nearest diner Europa, set down and ordered three shots and czaj. One of them opened today's newspaper and started to read diligently all the time smoking. The other officer was staring at me, not even winking.
'We are putting you out from the case,' said a sad-looking 40-year-old officer.
I didn't know these guys. They must have worked in another section, probably they came from political security department. The guy reading newspaper looked like taken from a silent film. He had a thin moustache, wore a rather spring than winter coat and had a thick scarf woven around his neck like a loop from a gallows pole. Since the time we sat down he had been scrutinizing the news not even looking in my or his colleague direction.
The other sovnarkom officer had a convict hair cut and five o'clock shadow. He just sat there at the table putting the bitter news to me in a rough package.
'You will return to your previous, abandoned tasks and never again come to the case. Not even close to it. You are no longer needed. From this week we are taking control of the case. Thank you for your input to the case. We appreciate it.'
The officer stopped talking and went out together with his colleague who folded the newspaper and left it on the table.
'Three cups of tea?' an ugly-looking female waiter asked me.
'Here,' I took all of them although the officers left. 'And another shot of vodka, and something to eat.'
'What?'
'I don't know. Something hot.'
'We have scrambled eggs, kielbasa...'
'Scrambled eggs should be fine.'
'How many?'
'Two and bread to it. And fry it on butter, not oil.'
She looked at me strangly and left with an order without saying anything. I handed for a cup of tea and reached for the newspaper left by silent officer. Krasnaja Gazeta wrote about the further steps in the our murder case. She still wrote the articles. I wonder whether she had similar problems to mine and whether they wanted her to be silent rather than keep on writing.
She wrote about the suspect, our Diedushka Moroz. The headline shouted 'Siernozyj Moroz is back!' She described his previous murders in the city and how militia were unable to catch him. 'Right now they have another chance' concluded the article.
I needed to see her and pass her all the information I had managed to collect. If I am no longer in the case let her finish the work and help protect others from that madness. It is going too far. And I doubt someone can stop the murderer. This case stinks. It turns into the politics. Someone so strong as Iron Felix must be pulling strings behind all this.
I turned another page and saw a big writing: 'We are watching you'.
They knew I knew and will keep me tailing till the case will be solved or someone will silence it. I need to watch my back.
And her back as well.
I put on more clothes and ran down the stairs. Two sovnarkom officers were waiting outside the building and smoking cigarettes. We went to the nearest diner Europa, set down and ordered three shots and czaj. One of them opened today's newspaper and started to read diligently all the time smoking. The other officer was staring at me, not even winking.
'We are putting you out from the case,' said a sad-looking 40-year-old officer.
I didn't know these guys. They must have worked in another section, probably they came from political security department. The guy reading newspaper looked like taken from a silent film. He had a thin moustache, wore a rather spring than winter coat and had a thick scarf woven around his neck like a loop from a gallows pole. Since the time we sat down he had been scrutinizing the news not even looking in my or his colleague direction.
The other sovnarkom officer had a convict hair cut and five o'clock shadow. He just sat there at the table putting the bitter news to me in a rough package.
'You will return to your previous, abandoned tasks and never again come to the case. Not even close to it. You are no longer needed. From this week we are taking control of the case. Thank you for your input to the case. We appreciate it.'
The officer stopped talking and went out together with his colleague who folded the newspaper and left it on the table.
'Three cups of tea?' an ugly-looking female waiter asked me.
'Here,' I took all of them although the officers left. 'And another shot of vodka, and something to eat.'
'What?'
'I don't know. Something hot.'
'We have scrambled eggs, kielbasa...'
'Scrambled eggs should be fine.'
'How many?'
'Two and bread to it. And fry it on butter, not oil.'
She looked at me strangly and left with an order without saying anything. I handed for a cup of tea and reached for the newspaper left by silent officer. Krasnaja Gazeta wrote about the further steps in the our murder case. She still wrote the articles. I wonder whether she had similar problems to mine and whether they wanted her to be silent rather than keep on writing.
She wrote about the suspect, our Diedushka Moroz. The headline shouted 'Siernozyj Moroz is back!' She described his previous murders in the city and how militia were unable to catch him. 'Right now they have another chance' concluded the article.
I needed to see her and pass her all the information I had managed to collect. If I am no longer in the case let her finish the work and help protect others from that madness. It is going too far. And I doubt someone can stop the murderer. This case stinks. It turns into the politics. Someone so strong as Iron Felix must be pulling strings behind all this.
I turned another page and saw a big writing: 'We are watching you'.
They knew I knew and will keep me tailing till the case will be solved or someone will silence it. I need to watch my back.
And her back as well.
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