10

Marat Valeyev noticed his partner’s large figure a block before the intersection. He braked and waited while Mayorov crammed himself into the passenger seat.

«How did the train welcome go?» asked the captain.

«The car attendant recognized Dmitry Maltsev. At the time of the murder, he was on the train getting drunk.»

«He did more of the same on the return leg. I’ve already delivered the flabby product of last night’s libations to Petelina.»

«Why waste all that money on tickets?» sighed Vanya recalling his unenviable salary. He noticed that the captain was not heading back to the division. «Where to now?»

«Back to our former haunts. We never found that janitor, remember.»

«Oh. Man, the Noose just doesn’t let up, does she? Other operatives don’t even have to go to the crime scenes. They’re allowed to stay in the office writing reports – »

«It’s Detective Petelina to you. Got it?» Marat would have preferred it if Lena Gracheva, the valedictorian of his class, had remained Gracheva, instead of getting hitched with Sergey Petelin, with whom he used to scuffle in school.

«What are you getting on my case about? Have you any idea how they bitch about her back at the Investigative Committee? She’s constantly setting back deadlines, requesting additional tests and ordering field operatives to go here and there, back and forth…»

«She may order us around, but it’s for a good reason. As for deadlines, the entire reason we’re going to find the janitor right now is to speed things up. Oh, and did you not get an award last quarter?»

«Yeah, something like that.»

«There you have it. And thanks to whom? Petelina!»

«I didn’t even understand how we got so many merits.»

«A detective gets merits on his record for each criminal case that goes to court, but us operatives get them for each episode. Episodes constitute individual crimes that may all be a part of just one case. Whomever the detective decides to give the merits to gets the golden goose. Remember how we nabbed that gang that stole the gasoline from the oil refinery?»

«Yeah, we followed them and got them as they were about to fence it.»

«The total recovered damages in that case amounted to five million. We divide that into one hundred episodes at fifty thousand per – and that’s how you got all those merits on your record.»

«Huh.»

«You should always try to be friends with your detective, Vanya.»

«I mean, I have nothing against her. Only, she’s obsessed with this coat. And yet the whole thing is so obvious. We discovered Maltseva at the scene of the crime and the Tadpole got all the evidence we could need. All we have to do is lean on her a bit and she’ll crack. Why waste time talking to Tajik janitors?»

«Because I can’t say no to a pretty woman, Vanya. I’m simply incapable of it.»

Mayorov was ready to submit a different paragon when it came to female beauty. A more striking, younger one with gracious curves in the right places. To that end, he had asked for the attendant’s address on purpose. Now, he would have a good reason to stop by the passport desk and ask Galya Nesterova whether the woman with the bruise really did reside at the address she had given him. He would bring some chocolate with him. Or maybe a rose? Flowers, of course, would be a better idea, but he was a little frightened. If a man gives a woman flowers, he is effectively confessing his love. Maybe if it was Galya’s birthday, it would be okay. How could he find out when she was born?

It was as if Valeyev had read his younger colleague’s mind.

«I remembered what I said to Galya from the passport desk yesterday, Vanya.»

«What?» Mayorov turned his entire, ample frame to face the captain.

«„Now or never.“»

«Tell me now – why wait?»

«I already told you.»

«I don’t understand.»

«That’s what I told her: „Now or never!“»

Vanya’s eyes went round; his mouth opened a little. More than a minute went by before he exhaled.

«Why?»

«First thing that came to mind. So I said it.»

«But what does it mean?»

«Now means now! And never…» the captain flourished his hand vaguely in the air. «We will catch the culprit… now or never.»

«Are you sure that that’s how Galya understood it?»

«Well, we were on our way to a murder, weren’t we?»

«But Galya didn’t know that!»

«Yes, a misunderstanding… Well, you know what they say: From each according to his ability, to each according to his depravity.»

Vanya recalled the fiery look that Galya had cast after the captain and felt a tinge of sadness:

«I think that she thought something entirely different.»

Valeyev turned into the driveway to the Maltsevs’ apartment building and instantly spied the janitor in the courtyard.

«Well, speak of the devil. Come on Vanya – time for you to practice your Tajik.»

«Me?»

«Yeah you. What are you sitting there for? If we both go, we’ll scare him. You’re the more diplomatic one here.»

Valeyev sat back, relaxed and enjoyed a cigarette, watching the 240-lbs. «diplomat» variously and valiantly attempt to explain to the cowed and skinny janitor exactly what was wanted of him.

At last, the time came for the senior officer to involve himself.

«Come over here, brother.» Valeyev clapped the janitor on the shoulder. In the next instant, the captain went bug-eyed and thrust forth his neck in simulated rage. «If you don’t hand over that coat this instant, I’ll send you back home to Central Asia first thing tomorrow morning. To your motherland. And after that, you’ll never get back into Russia again. Ever!»

The sacred words «Russia» and «motherland» had a profound effect on the janitor. Five minutes later, the operatives were digging through a pile of clothes in the building’s basement, while the janitor regaled them with a haphazard tale about wealthy residents who throw away «completely new thing,» insolent bums with «completely no shame,» and a strict supervisor who «completely does not talk quietly.»

The operatives did not part with «Completely Completovich» empty-handed.

11

Inna Maltseva looked relaxed. Her eyes were closed and she was reclining in her chair with her arms lying limply on the armrests. Dr. Krasin held an open hand to Inna’s forehead, while his other hand supported the back of her head. His long nose was almost touching her temple and he was speaking to her in a soft and poignant voice.

«Inna, you can feel the warmth from my hands spread through you. Your fear lets go of you and you begin to feel better and better. There is nothing that has happened in your life that cannot be fixed. A minor nuisance has occurred. We are here to help you figure out and extricate you out of this situation. On the count of three, I want you to open your eyes and look at the woman before you. She is your friend. You must be honest with her. Don’t hide anything. She will help you.»

Krasin counted to three and traced a circle with his palm in front of the patient’s face. Maltseva’s eyes opened.

«You may ask your questions,» the psychiatrist whispered to the detective.

Petelina was sitting across the table from Maltseva. She brought her palms together pensively in front of her pursed lips and watched her enter hypnosis. Inna had changed. She looked like a guileless, infinitely weary woman now. Her wide-open, clear eyes awaited Petelina’s help.

Elena slowly lowered her arms and surreptitiously turned on the voice recorder. She tried to formulate her questions as tactfully as she could.

«Inna, do you remember what happened yesterday evening?»

«Yes, of course.»

«Tell me, please, what were you doing?»

«I was waiting.»

There was a pause. Maltseva’s gaze became foggy. It became evident that she was submerging herself in her memories.

«Were you waiting for an opportune moment?» the detective tried to lead her.

«Yes.»

«What was supposed to happen then?»

«I wanted to approach unnoticed.»

«Approach whom?»

«The person I wanted to kill.»

«Did you plan out the murder beforehand?»

«Yes.»

«Did you plan how you were going to do it?»

«I did.»

Petelina could not believe that Maltseva would so stubbornly ruin herself and rephrased the question:

«Try and think hard before answering, Inna: Did you want the person to die as a result of your actions?»

«Of course,» Maltseva answered naïvely.

Elena pursed her lips in disappointment. Murder in the first degree was far removed from the charge she had planned on for this poor woman who was so tormented by her impossible desire to have a child. Article 5, Section 1—murder in the first – provided for 6—15 years’ imprisonment, whereas Article 107—manslaughter in the heat of passion – entailed a maximum of up to 3 years. Meanwhile, if the court decided that Maltseva had acted with excessive cruelty, then she could even be charged under Article 104, Section 2. Then, if she was found guilty of that, she could be given life.

Elena was overcome with compassion. The psychiatrist had been right when he had remarked that her investigations vacillated between the cliffs of reason and the waves of emotion. Waves could erode the jagged edges to softness, but only rock could ensure a stable footing. Elena had to cast aside emotion and discover the truth. She had to present it in the form of clear evidence and submit it for the court’s decision. That was her job. Feelings during an investigation could only get in the way of that.

«Tell me how you put your plan into action,» Petelina asked more coldly, already anticipating the answer. The image of the crime and the murder weapon – the hair-plastered cleaver – did not leave much room to the imagination.

«I came up from behind.»

«Unnoticed?»

«Yes.»

«Go on. You came up from behind and…»

«And fired.»

Fired?! The word, pronounced so quietly, had the effect of a real gunshot.

Petelina recoiled and looked quizzically at the psychiatrist. Krasin remained unperturbed. He scribbled something on a piece of paper and passed it to the detective. Elena read: «In a state of hypnosis, she is unable to make anything up.»

The detective looked at Maltseva. The woman had an open and earnest expression on her face devoid of the slightest smirk or shade of cunning. She had given her reply and was simply waiting for the next question.

Had she told the truth then? But that was impossible!

«Inna, let’s try this again, from the beginning. You decided to commit a murder. You approached your victim from behind. And then? Do you remember the gunshot clearly?»

«Yes.»

«Then you must have the weapon somewhere.»

«The gun.» Maltseva looked at her hand, raised it and extended her index finger. «I fired. Like this.»

Inna bent her finger. Her hand jumped from the recoil and dropped to her knee.

Elena could not understand what was happening. Anton Maltsev had been killed with a cleaver – the autopsy had confirmed it. There was no handgun! There were no bullets! What the hell was the suspect talking about?

Petelina glanced at the voice recorder and mechanically asked her next question:

«Where did you aim your shot?»

«At her head. I fired and she fell.»

«She?!»