Alibi for the hero. Detective novel

Elena Borisovna Speranskaya

The novel describes the penal investigation of a criminal offense that has its roots in the last century and received vengeance thanks to the efforts of the investigator of the prosecutor’s office – Rezhimov, the private detective – Alice Korablevskaya and her husband, lieutenant colonel Seregin. All the characters are taken from life, but the names and surnames are changed. Translated from Russian by the author.

Alibi for the hero

Detective novel

Elena Borisovna Speranskaya

Being aВ hero is the highest destiny.

The brave are always recognized inВ battle.

InВ the mountain, the hero is checked.

Dying, the hero will notВ die.

В В В В M. Jalil

…a hero is a person who, at a decisive moment, does

what should be done inВ the interests

ofВ human society.

В В В В Yu. Fucik

If “manners maketh man’ as someone said,

Then he’s the hero of the day,

It takes aВ man toВ suffer ignorance and smile.

Be yourself no matter what theyВ say!

    Sting,“Englishman In New York’

Translator Elena Borisovna Speranskaya

© Elena Borisovna Speranskaya, 2018

© Elena Borisovna Speranskaya, translation, 2018

ISBNВ 978-5-4490-6791-3

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

1.В Heart Drama

As usual, Nikifor Naumovich slept perfectly and inВ good spirits went toВ the service, toВ which he was used, as toВ the most normal routine business, perceiving the world inВ the light ofВ commercials gliding across the screen and bursts ofВ emotions ofВ joyful leaders selling the lowest quality goods with surprising ease and self-oblivion. He never crossed the permissible border inВ the direction ofВ the path, preferring toВ go straight, albeit with costs for his own health and aВ lack ofВ free time. Sitting at the computer at the entrance toВ the sanatorium all night, tracking every new visitor, he received aВ call from the administrator inВ the morning and immediately suspected something was amiss.

“Now I will close the entrance and I will be with my colleague. At this time, no one is expected with a visit.”

“Thanks, Seregin appeared without delay,” thought the investigator on duty, who came to the sanatorium to work and to treat the waist. From the kitchen spread the sweet smell of vanilla cookies, baked for breakfast injured resting athletes and coaches.

“We must ensure the safety of the nearby territory if the corpses are pouring out of nowhere,” he said abruptly, pressing to hang up when this simple thought occurred to him.

“Come, my friend, it was much more complicated than we thought,” his colleague encouraged him.

He was already standing with one foot on the sidewalk, and the other was holding the door from aВ plastic box with glass windows, aВ booth set at the exit ofВ aВ wide, entrance gate ofВ aВ high, twisted, cast-iron fence separating from the road aВ stunning plot ofВ land, intended since the Stalin era for the holiday ofВ eminent people.

It was the middle of summer with thunderstorms, showers, occasionally hail, but immediately melted. The coolness of the morning was replaced by the stuffiness. By the evening it was getting a little fresher. From the surrounding mountains a warm, dust-enveloping air blew. The birds, wrapping in their nests, rushed with screaming in whole, large flocks, teaching young chicks the skill, soaring to the very height, but did not reach the high floors of skyscrapers, fell with desperation and hovered somewhere below, rustling plumage and breaking the space at an incredible speed. The dogs, digging out pits in the ground at the roots of the bushes, were stacked, flapping their tails, fell asleep with pleasure. Kiosks with mineral water, vending machines with soda, and barrels with kvass did not have time to change the coordinators-distributors of drinks. By twelve o’clock the sellers were taking off their aprons. They stood in the hope that the daily rate of production of the desired moisture suddenly increases at least a percentage of twenty.