Penny Criminal Case. Alexander Cherenov

found during the parade, right at the time when, according to the testimony of the neighbors, the future murdered girl was seen in the courtyard of her own house. Alive still, of course.”

      “This is alibi,” Petrov shook his head sadly.

      “Yes, bro. Major Bessonov, who conducted the parade, made a remark to our ‘hero’ and sent him to sew a button.”

      “And?” Petrov showed sluggish interest.

      “And that’s all!“Starkov laughed. “No buttons, no lieutenant!”

      Petrov could already hold back and grabbed Ivanov – no longer by the sleeve, but by the throat.

      “Why didn’t you sew a button, you motherfucker?!”

      Wheezing, either from excitement, or from suffocation, the policeman suddenly became generous with a whole monologue, if, of course, these few words could be elevated to the dignity of a monologue.

      “So… it is… well, when I… when I… took the needle already – and then the call to the service area… a household fight… right on the waste ground… here.”

      Petrov turned to Starkov with a question in his eyes – and Alex “approved” the testimony of the district police officer.

      “Bessonov writes that Ivanov really went to the service area due to the fight between young hooligans. He even managed to make the protocol there.”

      Petrov let go of the district policeman’s throat and sank into a chair with a heavy sigh.

      “What a beautiful version was it: real jam!”

      Starkov went to the phone.

      “Do you mind, bro?”

      The lieutenant colonel waved his hand wearily. Starkov scrolled the number quickly.

      “Major Bessonov? Starkov bother you. We have dealt with your lieutenant, bro… Yes, a complete alibi… No, we will carry out an examination, of course. So you give him a new button, please.”

      Starkov broke down and laughed.

      “So I informed you: we let him go… No, let him get on foot!.. Good luck, bro!”

      Starkov returned the receiver to the apparatus and turned to Ivanov.

      “Get out of here, you son of a bitch!”

      Ivanov stumbled a little more on the spot, tried unsuccessfully to tighten his snot, then sighed, muttered something like “goodbye” and, hunched over, went out the door.

      Looking at him from behind, Petrov “accompanied” the district police officer with “a few kind words” for a few more minutes, but then he could not stand it:

      “No, bro, we let him go in vain… so early!”

      “Sorry?” Starkov did not lie.

      “How did the button end up in the girl’s hand?”

      Starkov laughed.

      “Was you going to find out from him?”

      Petrov shrugged uncertainly.

      “Well… in general… But somehow, after all, it was there?”

      “In hand or in the wasteland?”

      “Both!”

      Starkov thought for a moment.

      “Well, as for the wasteland… There is only one option: this ‘little fool’ is still a policeman, albeit a bad one. And he visits the wasteland once a day, at least. He has a small area, and he loves to walk. And since he is a slob…”

      “Got it,” Petrov frowned once again, and right there he “turned into a fighting cock”. “How did the button end up in the girl’s hand, eh?”

      Starkov first went away to the side, and then “moved to the ceiling”.

      “Well, I think, that our girl did not die immediately, and while the murderer was strangling her, she clutched in agony for everything, that came under her hands. A button could well have been caught – unless, of course, this one… Ivanov has dropped it there… if he dropped it…”

      Starkov frowned under the bewildered look of Petrov.

      “There is another option, bro…”

      “What?” Petrov guarded.

      “Someone put this button in her hand, most likely, the murderer himself.”

      The lieutenant colonel frowned.

      “Leads us on a false trail?”

      “Or he laughs at us, trying to confuse in a pile of assorted evidence. And if our ‘fortune telling on the coffee grounds’ is true, then this means, that Ivanov did not lose button – it was stolen from him… for us especially.”

      Similar in content views of Starkov and Petrov met and did not diverge anymore.

      “Yes, bro: in this case, we will not soon get to know him… if ever we meet…”

      With difficulty, as if stuck, Starkov tore his backside from the tabletop, on which he had settled down even during a conversation with Bessonov.

      “It seems, my friend Boris, that with this case we are in full ass…”

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      Starkov returned to the prosecutor’s office, but as soon as he managed to cross the threshold of the office, the telephone rang.

      “This is Petrov, bro. Come back soon: Koval returned from school, and information passed ‘on the bottom’ also.”

      Starkov, frustrated, hit his fist on the table.

      “Let me have lunch, Boris. There is a pancake store around the corner… damn, well, you know…”

      “Lunch together with us!” the tube banged indisputable tone. “Today there is a very good lunch here: borsch, meatballs with mashed potatoes with milk, compote of dried fruits. The discount is one hundred percent for everything! Well, and alcohol, we find, of course! We are waiting for you!”

      Twenty minutes later, instead of the standard ten, due to the “buzzing” legs, Starkov opened the door to Petrov’s office once again.

      “I’m sorry, bro, but me without you – like without hands!” Petrov obeyed immediately. “And don’t worry about the dining room: they will bring our lunch here! But first, let’s finish the program of the day!”

      Starkov wearily sat down on a chair.

      “Boris, the first point immediately: what information is ‘on the bottom’?”

      The lieutenant colonel winked at Starkov conspiratorially.

      “We have something! Our man, after all, ‘unwound’ the boy. Well, this is not a sincere confession, of course, but, so to speak…”

      “Do not hurt, bro!”

      Petrov jerked himself up to Starkov, almost buried his face in his face.

      “The boy confessed that the school regularly scoffed at him, and, not so much the boys, how many girls. Well, did you see this jerk?”

      Starkov nodded his head.

      “Here you go. He was freed from physical education ‘for outstanding sporting achievements’: he could not even run a hundred meters, he came last, after all the girls. On physical education, he always sat on a bench against the wall and ‘heard’ " insults, with which he was presented during the whole lesson. Kotova tried to insult him especially.”

      Petrov grinned.

      “The girl had a pretty face, a beautiful figure, an arrogant character. Petin got more from her than anybody else. This is an ‘iron’ motive!”

      Petrov