Knives. Найля Копейкина
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know, they are lying. I rather envy. Yes, I do not hide my feelings for Leonid, but I’d never kill a human!”
Tatiana got up, tempting to leave, but suddenly sat down again on the other side of the table, facing Andrei.
“Believe me, Andrei Vladimirovich, this is nonsense! How can you believe it!” Now the voice of Tatiana sounded indignated. “Why are you so sure that they were trying to kill Clara, not Nadezhda?”
“They were trying to kill Clara Yurievna for the second time. The first attempt was made about a month ago in her yard.”
“See, I don’t know where she lived!”
“This is how the true killer would answer.”
“Andrei Vladimirovich,” she was still indignant, but already had a note of supplication in her voice, “do you really believe in this nonsense?”
“No, I don’t believe it. That's why I want to help you.”
“How?”
“I just want to prove that you were doing something else during the murder. If you don’t want to reveal someone’s name, it will not be called, but I need to know. I must check it.”
“Name?” Tatiana asked with surprise growing into indignation, staring at Andrei. “Do you think I was with a man?” Tatiana had an insulted look.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to offend you. I actually don’t think anything yet. I would like to know the truth.”
“I was at the train station,” the girl replied, somehow abhorrently, as if giving in something dear to herself.
“At the train station?” surprised Andrei. “What for? At which station?”
Tatiana shrugged and answered in an offended tone: “I don’t know why. They called me from my sister and said that she had sent me a parcel by train. I went to get it.” Tatiana resentfully turned to the window. “Did you get it?” “No. There was no parcel. My sister didn’t send me anything, it was someone’s stupid joke.” The girl still hid her hurt eyes, accompanying them with her actions – shaking off the ashes from a cigarette.
“A joke? You mean, your sister didn’t send or call you?”
“No.” Tatiana raised her eyes and looked into the eyes of Andrei. Anger in her gaze was gone.
“Then who called you?”
“I don’t know,” the girl shrugged vaguely, “a woman. She introduced herself as Olga's colleague.”
“Is Olga a sister?”
“Yes. You know, I was very surprised. I said why hadn’t Olga called me, but the woman replied that Olga’s phone was turned off for non-payment. It then seemed strange to me: Olga is a neat person, she could not that. Then I called Olga directly from the station on her cell phone. She didn’t know anything. They didn’t turn off her phone, and she didn’t send me anything. Recently she asked me to buy a jacket for her husband.
“Where does your sister live?”
“In Kiev.”
“Did you go to Kiev station?”
“Yes.”
“Has anyone seen you there?”
“Of course. The conductor of the sixth carriage. This woman told me that Olga handed over a parcel with a conductor from the sixth carriage, although Olga is familiar with conductors from the twelfth carriage. I approached them too, but no.”
“So who do you think could have made such a joke?” Tatiana again shrugged her shoulders vaguely, pulled a pause, and at the same time exhaling air, answered in a chant:
“I don't know.”
It was obvious from her face that she really did not know, and this tormented her.
“Did the woman’s voice sound familiar to you?”
“No.”
“Did they call from Kiev?”
“Now I'm not sure, but then I thought so. They said “answer Kiev”, then this lady spoke. She even said her name, Larisa or something, and explained that she worked with Olga and she asked her to call me.”
Andrei and Tatiana talked for another ten minutes about the train schedule, about the parcels, about why it was train, not mail, about conductors, about the sister and many other things. The longer they talked, the more Andrei became convinced that Tatiana was not so evil as it seemed at first. She really needed attention and protection, and her bitchiness was a defensive reaction of a small single woman. Suddenly, Andrei noticed that she had a beautiful high forehead, high breasts, clean skin. Having once again extended her hand to the ashtray, Tatiana waved the lighter with the sleeve of her bathrobe, and immediately bent to pick it. The neck of her robe sagged down and exposed the beautiful white breasts. “Gotta visit her once again,” thought Andrei.
That day Captain Rublev had a headache. His brother came to him the previous night, and they only drank a bottle, but the next morning Captain felt nausea and pain in his temples without even lifting his head from the pillow. Passing through the narrow passage between the lion’s cages, Captain wanted one thing: to rush through this stinking place and come somewhere where he could sit down and ask for a sip of water. By the evening his head ached so badly that he needed to take a pill of analgin, which he grabbed just in case, knowing that the pain could intensify. But the wide-backed guard walked slowly ahead. He deliberately hesitated, giving the Captain opportunity to admire the animals. Entering the long corridor, the guard stopped at the first door, knocked, opened it without waiting for an answer and slipped into the opening.
“It’s for you, Denis Petrovich. Come in,” the guard invited, freeing the doorway. Circus director was waiting for his arrival. He sat at a clean table, clasping his hands one on top of the other like a pupil, and smiled kindly at the Captain. Having waited when Nikolai reached the middle of the room, he got up, shocking Captain with his small height, and went towards him to shake his hand.
“Hello, Captain,” he shook his hand vigorously. “So glad to meet you.”
“Nothing to be glad for,” thought Rublev.
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