My nightlife. Read Online My Mother-in-Law's Nightlife

Nightlife of my mother-in-law

Darya Dontsova

Evlampia Romanova. The investigation is led by an amateur #29

I, Evlampia Romanova, always knew that spouses should not work in the same office! But my new husband's assistant, Max Wolf, was admitted to the hospital, and I had to take her place in the waiting room. The secretary is not a detective at all, is she? However, businessman Oleg Vainshtein needs me and no one else! But at first I mistook a new client for a mannequin - another prank of the prankster Wolfe - and to the nines criticized his defiant outfit! In the parking lot of the clinic, I found a funny red crocodile purse with a note that was not at all funny: a certain Laura Fein asked for help - she was kidnapped ... That's how I ended up at the epicenter of two complicated cases at once! But that was only the beginning! One fine evening, my ... mother-in-law unexpectedly showed up at our house!

Darya Dontsova

Nightlife of my mother-in-law

The richer the patient, the wider the possibilities of modern medicine.

“If you use this device once a week, you can avoid plastic surgery,” an ingratiating voice sounded next to me.

“Thanks,” I said without taking my eyes off the glossy magazine, “while I'm not thinking about a facelift.

- But in vain! – murmured the interlocutor.

I put down the weekly:

- Your statement gives rudeness!

- Ouch! I didn’t even have this in my thoughts, - an uncle of about fifty, dressed, despite July, in a woolen turtleneck, a quilted vest and tight tweed trousers, chattered, - as soon as I saw you, I immediately understood: here is a sensible lady who will appreciate the opportunities " Febo twenty."

- Opportunities for what? - I did not understand.

The stranger with a joyful smile took out a small dark blue box from a plump bag:

- Here! Facebody straightener - abbreviated as "Febo". Comes with a set of nozzles, all interchangeable. If you use the body version, then the stoop will disappear, if the Face Iron, wrinkles will be smoothed out. Only twenty nozzles. Are you evaluating the savings?

I suddenly became interested:

- No, I didn't appreciate it. Can you explain please.

The salesman began to bend his fingers:

- One session with a massage therapist - one hundred dollars. I'm ready to bet that you spend the same amount on a trip to a beauty salon for a delicate face. Since it is pointless to carry out manipulations to improve the exterior less than twice a week, it turns out that you have a huge amount of money to maintain beauty. It's outrageous in a month! Fitness for a woman in your position is worth ten thousand in thirty days. Add here all sorts of creams, lotions, massage oil. In short, even five pieces of "green" will not do. And you bought Febo once - and use it for three hundred years.

How much is your equalizer? I don't understand why I asked.

“Fifteen thousand greens!” - the "businessman" proudly declared.

- Wow! I jumped. - You can buy a car.

- I told you the total price, - the tempter reversed, - do not forget about the discount. Ten percent from the manufacturer.

“Thanks, that’s great, but I don’t need him,” I said politely.

“Another twenty percent from the warehouse of finished goods,” the peddler tempted me, “and fifteen from me personally.

“You'd better look for another buyer,” I didn't flinch.

- Fifty thousand rubles? Will it go? the merchant inquired matter-of-factly.

The price was melting like an icicle in boiling water, but I had absolutely no interest in a skin tightener, so I got off with a brief:

- Twenty-five, - the seller cut off half the amount in a swoop.

I didn't hesitate.

“Be reasonable,” the man urged, “can’t you afford such pennies?”

- Do I look like the wife of an oligarch?

- You are sitting in the waiting room of a private medical clinic, where a year of service costs a million rubles, and pretend to be poor! – snorted ofenya. - Do you want me to show you the work of "Febo"? By the way, the miracle device was made in Germany, by the hands of hardworking, neat Germans, and not by some Chinese there!

I took another look at the packaging.

The Chinese are also exceptionally industrious and careful. Why did the Germans decorate the box with hieroglyphs? Why didn't they make inscriptions in their native language?

The man was confused, and I continued:

You messed up the doors. The entrance to the clinic "American-Vietnamese doctors" from the courtyard, and you entered through the main entrance and are in a private detective agency.

“Damn,” the interlocutor jumped up. - Just a waste of time!

Forgetting sugar-caramel courtesy at once, the poor fellow stuffed Phoebo into a sports bag and ran away to where people hang out, calmly unfastening millions for medical care.

“Lamp, come in,” came the intercom.

I got up, straightened my overly tight skirt, and headed to my office. Be careful with representatives of private medicine, do not come to the doctor's office in expensive jewelry, do not throw the keys to your Mercedes on his table, do not pour perfume at a price of a thousand rubles per drop, otherwise you risk finding out about huge number diseases, which you will have to treat for a long time and hard, using the most modern technologies. However, you should not dress up and if you are planning to just remove the wart. There is one cosmetology clinic in Moscow, in which the price of services depends on the brand and novelty of the patient's car. And please do not purchase any rejuvenator-rectifier-smootheners for the face and body. At best, you will pay a lot of money for junk, at worst, you will get an electric shock or a burn.

“Lamp,” repeated the selector, “where are you?”

I opened the door of my husband's office and, pretending to be a trained employee, answered:

- I'm listening.

I will not torture you with a story about how I became Max's wife. I can only say that at first I categorically did not like the guy, and then everything turned out somehow strangely and, to everyone's surprise, a marriage stamp appeared in my passport.

Max is the owner of a firm that, according to him, "does interesting things." He suggested that I apply to him for a job as a detective. Shortly before we met, I lost my job and with great pleasure would have hired to any person, just to do what I love. But having a husband as a boss is wrong. I will certainly begin to argue with Max at meetings, object to him, strike a blow to his reputation in the eyes of subordinates. We will quarrel, at home we will talk exclusively about the service. No, it is better for spouses not to work together, and I categorically refused.

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just like that they mingle with their own kind on the street. They seem to be asking in a businesslike way: “Hey, guys, don’t your owners need an honest woman who knows how to think logically, is pretty, healthy, cheerful, hardworking, not capricious and does not pretend to be an exorbitant salary? Without career ambitions, a simple workhorse! If yes, then she is standing with leashes at the gate.

But, despite the efforts made, no one was in a hurry to sign a contract for employment with Ms. Romanova. Anticipating your question, I answer: yes, I remained Romanova. My husband has an original surname, but you must admit that Evlampia Wolf, that is, the Wolf, sounds a little outrageous. How, you ask, did I find myself today in front of my husband's office, and even in the role of a secretary? Everything is very simple. Nina, Max's assistant, was taken to the hospital on Wednesday night and hastily operated on. It's okay, a banal appendicitis, in ten days she will again appear in the waiting room. But what to do while she's gone? So Max asked me: “Be a friend, pretend to be a secretary. If clients see that they can get into the office of the head of the company without hindrance, they immediately conclude: things are not so hot here, there is not enough money even for a blonde at the doorstep. Do not refuse, dear! “Okay,” I agreed, “but if I mess up something, don’t scold me.” “Any girl is capable of serving tea and coffee and smiling,” Max said, “and you, with your mind, beauty and ingenuity, will certainly master a simple craft.”

Alas, I, like most people, are greedy for flattery, so now I’m running in an uncomfortable skirt and stilettos to the “boss”.

“Come in,” Max nodded.

I looked around the empty office.

- What do you want?

- Grandma is in the second negotiation room. Talk to her.

I furrowed my eyebrows.

I'm not a detective, I'm a secretary.

Husband got up

“I remember that very well and I’m not going to involve you in the investigation. But the aunt is extremely stubborn and is not going to leave without a scandal. Try to calm her down.

I wasn't overjoyed. Max instantly figured out my emotions and explained:

- Sometimes Nina has to play the role of an intelligent bouncer.

- Push out annoying visitors, quoting Pushkin? I giggled. - Explain what an intelligent bouncer is?

Max glanced at his watch.

“They are waiting for me in the conference room in five minutes. Oleg Weinstein will come there, have you heard about this?

I nodded.

- Rich man.

“Mr. exorbitant money,” Max clarified, “he is contacting us for the third time. Can he refuse?

- If you leave the annoying aunt alone, she will soon leave. “I tried to get rid of the bouncer role.

“Grandma came here on the advice of another of our regular clients,” Max sighed, “and the first thing I should say when this chest with golden doubloons rings is: “Andrei Mikhailovich, my people are busy with your protégé.” I ran. Hope you can handle it.

Before I could blink, my husband disappeared into the hallway. Now you understand why you should not work in submission to your spouse? After listening to the order from the boss, the secretary hurries to do the assigned work. But I am not an ordinary employee, but a wife, so I quietly get angry when I hear about the role of an intelligent bouncer offered to me. I didn't sign up for this! I'm just doing a favor for my beloved, my duties include floating into the office with a tray and, smiling sweetly, treating potential clients with tea and coffee. Most of all, I now want to leave the office, but Max managed to inform the employees that I am playing the role of the temporarily retired Nina. The people ran to the reception, everyone wanted to admire the woman who managed to tie up the boss. Some of the curious put on the most worried expression on their faces and approached me with the question: “Is Max there?” If I answered: “Yes, and completely free, come in,” the person would get lost and quickly rush away, muttering along the way: “I’ll look later, I completely forgot about the urgent business.”

But many of the employees simply froze on the threshold and began to look at me. In the end, I could not stand it and asked one guy who stared at me with his mouth open for almost ten minutes:

– What do you need?

“Nothing,” he blurted out.

“Goodbye, then,” I continued rather impolitely, “or are you going to stay here until the New Year?” What interesting things did you see? Stunned by my beauty?

- No, - honestly answered the rotozey, - Pashka from the technical department ordered me: “Run to the boss, admire how Ninka lost weight in one night! Yesterday she weighed a hundred kilos, and today she won’t even reach fifty. ” Here, I stand and think: are you Nina or not?

In the first second, I assumed that he was mocking. Nina is a swarthy, dark-haired, black-eyed plump woman. She is tall and has a prominent mustache above her upper lip. I'm a frail blonde - in the supermarket I can't reach the top row of cans. But the guy didn't look like a joker, he seemed confused, so I smiled and calmly replied:

“Nothing special, liposuction, a trip to a beauty salon, and leg-shortening surgery. It's strange that you didn't recognize me.

- And the eyes? the guy blinked. “Were they… uh… the wrong color?”

“Lenses,” I shrugged, “do you have any more questions?”

The boy shook his head, stepped towards the exit, then turned around:

- Ning, why do legs from long ones to short ones, huh? Rather, they all want the opposite.

At this stage of the conversation, I belatedly realized that a local fool had shown up in the waiting room, he doesn’t understand jokes, but I couldn’t resist and answered:

“I never wanted to be like everyone else. And haven't you heard that I'm going to marry the chief of the Pygmy tribe? It is not good when a wife is twice as tall as her husband! Go to your workplace. I'm sorry, because of the colored lenses I can't see well, who are you?

- Gennady Parshikov, - the guy mumbled, - a system administrator.

A sigh of relief escaped my chest. It is clear that Gena is not a fool, he is a system administrator, and these people, as a rule, are very strange: they live in their virtual reality and rarely look out into the real world.

Thank God, the next day, the medical examiner Lena Vokina came to the office with a huge black eye, local gossips began to speculate about blanche, forgot about me, and I got the opportunity to work calmly without hearing whispering behind my back. Well, how can you be angry with Max now and leave? No, it's easy to do, but my defiant exit will cause a tsunami of gossip.

Quietly angry with myself for not getting an interesting job to this day, I headed towards the conference room. If you, like a hare, are driven into a corner by a hunting dog and ordered to carry out their instructions, it is useless to resist, you must obey, but you should not rush either. Why not complete the task as soon as possible and forget about it? Once you demonstrate your agility, and that's it, it's gone. In an hour you will receive a new order. If you do not complete it immediately, you will earn a reprimand, the authorities already know that you are capable of acting at the speed of a tornado. Take my advice: when you get a job, never demonstrate all your talents at once. You should not, sticking out your tongue, run around the office and, squealing joyfully, deftly manage a computer, fax, copier, scanner. Don't skip lunch and go out of your way to put a paper on your boss's desk on Tuesday that he told you to prepare for Wednesday,

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do not keep a stack of specialized literature at your workplace, do not put a photo of your family or adored dog, do not plant a plush bunny by the phone and do not shout into the phone: “Mom, everything is fine. Great job and nice co-workers.

You shouldn’t carry pies, buns, bagels, sweets to the office every day and declare at a meeting about a vacation: “I can’t stand the heat, I can’t stand the sea, I’m afraid of water, I’m allergic to shrimp and fish. I prefer to rest in February, it's nice to go skiing.

If in the first month you fully open all your abilities, then after six months the boss will think: “This employee does not want to learn anything new, she has reached the limit of her abilities.” Do you want to have a successful career? Start small. Arrive every day fifteen minutes earlier and leave a quarter of an hour later than your colleagues. The boss will understand: you are neat and root for the cause. In a month, surprise him with an excellent translation from English, in another two, put a long-read professional magazine on your desk. Then the chief will note: wow, she is not a fool, she is drawn to knowledge. Wait forty days and complete the task given to you two days earlier, and so on. The photo that appeared on your table is a new plus: and the girl is from a good family. When, shortly before payday, you suddenly bring sweets for tea and say with a sweet smile: “Here, try it, these are my favorites,” you will immediately pass for a generous person. You will bring buns every day, you will be considered a wasteful sucker. And when you, having broken down a little for the sake of appearance, agree to exchange vacations from August to February with your colleague, then they will smile at you quite sincerely. Bottom line: in a year you will go for a promotion, you will enjoy well-deserved respect in the team and become the boss's favorite.

I don't have to climb career ladder and I have no desire to become everyone's favorite. I moved slowly towards the conference room because I didn't want to be the bouncer. First, I fished out a chocolate bar from the machine, ate it, washed it down with water from the cooler, went to the toilet, combed my hair, made faces at the mirror and realized that there was nowhere else to linger.

Hoping very much that the visitor had already left, I hobbled to the door of the meeting room, flung it open and saw a lady in an armchair with its back to the entrance. Or rather, in my field of vision was a head with gray hair, an arm lying on the armrest, and one leg, set aside a little to the side. On the top of the old woman's head was a tiny pillbox hat, her hand was wrapped in a light gray glove, and on her leg was a dark brown boat with a low heel.

I walked around the chair and found myself in front of the visitor. She had a shapeless figure, dressed in a dark wool maxi dress, full ankles were hidden by dark stockings, her neck was camouflaged with a stand-up collar, and a thick veil fell over her face. For a hot July day, the visitor's outfit was strange, but old women often get cold. The veil is an outdated detail of the toilet, but older ladies like to dress like they are in their youth, so I calmly sat down in the second chair and exclaimed with a falsely joyful intonation:

- Hello, I'm Evlampia Romanova, the name is a little difficult, you can call me Lamp. I'll bet anything: you don't know anyone by that name.

As a rule, upon hearing such a statement, people begin to laugh, they think that I am joking, introducing myself as Evlampia. But Grandma was quiet. Probably, from a long wait, she simply fell asleep - such incidents happen to older people.

I turned up the volume.

- Good afternoon!

There was no reaction, anxiety crept into my soul. After hesitating, I stood up and gently touched the lady on the shoulder.

- Wake up!

She didn't flinch, didn't get scared, didn't make a sound. I quickly lifted her veil and yelled. Don't blame me for my violent reaction. I wonder what you would do if you saw a white skull with bright blue eyes and snow-white fangs of a vampire?

No sooner had my cry died down than expert Lena flew into the room with the same iron wardrobe trunk in her hand.

- What do we have here? she asked matter-of-factly.

I silently nodded at the old woman and murmured:

“Max told me to take care of the visitor, and she died.

Vokina leaned over the body and clicked her tongue.

- Did you immediately run to fulfill the request of the boss?

“First I ate a chocolate bar, drank water and looked into the toilet,” I honestly admitted.

Lena tried to frown, but then whinnied:

- Oh, I can't! Lamp! Turn on your brains! In front of you is a skull with wide open eyes. It happens?

“Well, it happens anyway,” I answered cautiously, “to be honest, I'm not strong in medical expertise.

Vokina looked at me with pity.

- Romanova, she is rubber.

- In terms of? I got lost.

“Funny,” Lena giggled. - It's a mannequin. Today is not the first of April, it is July, but the office is full of pranksters, they just played you. It is now clear?

- What? I asked with my lips, trying to contain my indignation.

“Someone called me on the inside and told me to drive to the negotiation room,” Vokina explained, “he said: “Come on, at-two, rush to the second, but grab a resuscitation kit, Lampe may become ill.”

– Nope, – Lenka frivolously admitted, – but they only use the internal line. Cool doll! Hey, where are you?

“Deal with the prankster,” I said, and rushed into the main living room.

Max loves practical jokes, tossing a plastic fly into tea or putting an artificial mouse in a nervous girl's bag is a nice thing for him. But the dead "old woman" in the chair! Agree, this joke is beyond good and evil.

Forgetting indignantly the role of a submissive subordinate, I flew into the room, saw Max in one of the huge chairs, and in the second another doll, this time not as skillfully made as the “grandmother”. The company of her husband was a mannequin, vaguely resembling a man. The mannequin was small, obviously weighed less than me, with short arms and legs. Yes, and he was dressed somehow in a gypsy way: a bright red shirt, white trousers, moccasins, apparently made of eel skin, a couple of rings on his fingers and a hefty watch on his wrist. Small black curls, whitish eyelashes and red eyebrows completed the picture.

“That’s it,” I stamped my foot, “you won’t see me here again!” Moron! Cretin! Fool!

“Lamp, calm down,” Max ordered.

But it got me:

- Bolvan! Is it possible to joke like that?

- How? - pretended to be a forget-me-not prankster.

- You planted in the negotiating skull! I yelled.

Maxim got up, poured water into a glass and handed it to me with the most thoughtful look.

“Drink, honey. Forgive me for making a remark to you, but the skull cannot sit, it lacks, so to speak, the ischial part.

“The old woman’s skull has everything you need,” I protested, “legs, arms and more!”

Maxim rolled his eyes.

- I have no idea what you mean!

“Stop pretending to be an innocent sheep immediately!”

“More like a ram,” Max sighed.

“It doesn’t matter,” I waved it off, “you sit in the company of another rubber doll and break a comedy!” Decided to make a fool of me in front of

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employees?

“Hush, honey,” Max asked, “there are no mannequins here.”

With one jump, I covered the distance from the door to the chair, where the effigy of the gypsy settled down at ease, pointed at him with my finger and sarcastically asked:

- And what's that?

"I'm alive," the dummy said calmly.

Max coughed violently. Having managed to draw a full chest of air for the next remark, I choked on my words, sneezed and blurted out:

- Well, I do not! Enough. I don't believe!

“I am alive,” the mannequin repeated.

It made me laugh:

– Great toy, sorry, vocabulary is small. Is it mains powered or does it run on batteries? Or maybe you control a gypsy with a remote control?

“I am alive,” the mechanism repeated again.

What are the gypsies doing here? Max didn't understand.

The chills stopped pounding me, it became hot, I sat down on the sofa and poked a finger at the doll.

“The next time you think about getting another robot, ask to be dressed in some decent clothes. Now your purchase looks like a cheap copy of the guys who look after fortune tellers at train stations! Red silk shirt! Even pimps don't wear these in Moscow! A combination of white trousers with a bright top, plus bast shoes made of sea reptile skin and black curls to the shoulders! Well, who is he after that? No man would think of dressing up as a clown! But the gypsies have their own style of dress. And the rings? Creepy pieces of gold with glass! Plus watch, cheap imitation worldwide famous brand. Ugh! And the manufacturer was greedy and built a mannequin too small! Your gypsy is a little bigger than the average dog!

Max rolled his eyes, raised his eyebrows, then covered his face with his hand.

“I don’t know how to react,” the model said in a voice too low for such a frail body, “on the one hand, thank you for the impartial assessment of my appearance. Until now, no one spoke about the vulgarity of my outfits, on the contrary, everyone noted their originality. But you made me think: what if I went too far with brightness? I confess, I do not like the style of my business colleagues. All these strict dark gray and blue suits are dreary. I am closer in spirit to Roman Burkin. Have you heard? Not? Roma drives a Zhiguli, he has seven of them, all of different colors, decorated with rhinestones on the outside. Burkin calls his fleet a "week". Well, remember, before they made knitted panties for women with the inscription "Monday", "Tuesday", "Wednesday"? BUT?

I nodded dumbfounded. White swimming trunks with the names of the days of the week cost a lot of money, and the conservatory, where your obedient servant studied in the harp class, was often visited by black marketeers. I could not afford to buy the whole set of panties, so I teamed up with fellow students and became the proud owner of two copies - "Sunday" and "Thursday".

“And Romka’s Zhiguli is a week old,” the mannequin was saying in the meantime, “he also goes everywhere with a knitted bag in the form of a hare, says that he himself built it on knitting needles. This is fun, otherwise everyone is like clones, in a Bentley and in a business suit. But now I'm puzzled. What, do I really look like a gypsy? By the way, the watch is original, and there are diamonds in the rings. This, in your opinion, bad taste?

- He is alive! I breathed.

Max removed his hand from his face.

– Allow me to introduce Oleg Vainshtein to you.

“Mr. outrageous grandmas,” I blurted out and became even more confused.

Well, Lamp, today you have shown yourself in all its glory. First, she called the powerful businessman, about whom there were a variety of rumors, a dummy, casually pointed at him short stature, gave a devastating assessment of his manner of dressing, and now also hung a nickname.

Max again covered his eyes with his hand, and I decided to pretend that nothing had happened.

Hello, my name is Lamp.

- Glad to meet you, - Oleg answered intelligently.

I decided to demonstrate a good upbringing:

- Mutually. Today is beautiful weather.

“A little hotter than necessary,” Weinstein said.

“Probably it will rain in the evening,” I continued.

“I wouldn’t want to,” Oleg sighed. So the red shirt doesn't suit me?

Mom's upbringing, which prescribes to answer: "She suits you very much," was swept away by completely non-secular sincerity:

- Sorry no.

- But why? Oleg was surprised. - In all the magazines they write: dark-skinned men with dark hair fit bright things.

“You are a redhead,” I retorted, “or rather, you were one until you dyed it and did a perm.

Weinstein slapped his knees.

– How did you guess?

If the interlocutor stops "dumping out", you can also safely switch to "you".

- When you visit the solarium, remember the inside of the hands, otherwise it will remain white, and in your case also with freckles, which, as a rule, adorn red-haired people. You have light eyelashes and eyebrows. You made a typical female mistake, changed the color of your hair, but forgot about facial hair. By the way, naturally curly hair is curled from the very top, and yours is twisted a little lower, this is a sign of a growing perm. A red shirt has the right to life, but it should not be scarlet, it is better to choose a cherry color, and, of course, you do not need to buy a shirt equipped with gold buttons with pasted rhinestones. The head of a tiger embroidered with gold thread on the shoulder is more suitable for the patron of moths than for a businessman. The watch is too defiant, it is better to change the platinum bracelet for a leather strap. White trousers in Moscow look ridiculous, the capital is not a resort town. If you really want to wear light pants, I can recommend beige, sandy shades. And in eel-skin boots, you look like an advertisement for a Chinese clothing market.

Max let out a long groan. I turned to my husband.

“I hope I lost my job as a secretary?” Can I go home safely?

Oleg slowly removed the wig from his head. Beneath it was a short-cropped red hedgehog.

- Not best quality hairstyle,” he admitted, “I decided to slightly change the appearance. I won’t say anything about a perm, probably, my hair was once subjected to it. I got tanned on the yacht, you are right about the hands, I just lay stupidly on the mattress, not changing my position. And you guessed right about the redhead. Max! I take it! I want her!

- Sorry, Oleg, - answered Max, - The lamp is not an employee, she is my wife.

“Great,” Weinstein nodded, “double rate then.” I take it.

Wulf scratched the top of his head.

“I want her,” repeated the businessman, “no one else!” The desire of the client is the law! I take it! Triple price!

“Wait a minute,” I wedged into a business conversation, “what does “I want” and “I take” mean? I'm not a stool on the trading floor with a price tag on the seat.

- Everyone is sold, - Oleg objected, - the question is in the price. And I need you not for life, but as an employee.

Do you want to offer me a job? I rejoiced. - Excellent! Deal! And what should be done? Hope the pay is decent.

- Brilliant! Max groaned. - First agree - and only then ask! Declare your own incorruptibility and in a second hint about a big salary!

“Honestly earned money is honestly earned money,” I replied proudly. Let's discuss the heart of the matter.

Oleg raised his chin and looked like a red-eared tortoise warming itself under a lamp.

“Some women amaze me. A couple of years ago I got into an accident. I was driving at night along the highway, suddenly out of nowhere

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foreign car, well, I broke into it. Somersaulted on the road for ages, well, he remained alive. I got out of the car and I see a wonderful picture. My jeep is lying upside down in a ravine, smashed soft-boiled, it will go for scrap, I'm covered in blood, I cut myself on the glass, I'm standing without pants, my trousers were pulled off. A foreign car lies on its side in the middle of the road, a girl in an evening dress sits next to it, a torn necklace around her neck. I'm trying to come to my senses, and then the blonde removes a piece of plastic from her head and begins to cry out loud: “My favorite headband! Where can I buy another one? Horror! How to keep your hair now? Normal, right? She sits on the ruins of a foreign car of hand-made exclusive assembly, the remains of a necklace made of rather sickly diamonds flow from her neck like a waterfall, and she herself is killed over a hoop for seven kopecks! Amazing. Real woman. Lamp, you are amazing!

“We’d better talk about work,” Max stopped Weinstein.

I glanced at my husband. No, did he get jealous of me? Oleg folded his arms across his chest and outlined the essence of the matter.

Some time ago, his girlfriend, Yana Voronina, began to complain of earache, and a caring gentleman took her to the clinic. Oleg believed that nothing special had happened to Yana, and all the way to the medical center he consoled his whining companion: “Nonsense. Ordinary otitis media, water got into your ear canal while swimming in the pool. Now they will drip in boric alcohol and let them go.”

Weinstein’s childhood memories of how his mother dealt with such a scourge surfaced in his head: a vodka compress, a warm scarf on his head, and the already mentioned boric alcohol. But today's medicine has other methods in its arsenal. Yana was driven to different rooms, they took a bunch of tests, prescribed antibiotics and asked to sit at home for a couple of days. Weinstein was pleasantly surprised by the professionalism of the doctors, who decided to make an accurate diagnosis, studied the entire body of the girl, and did not limit themselves to a banal examination of the diseased organ. True, I had to pay a tidy sum for the examination, but is it really worth saving on health? In Yana's ear, the shooting stopped a day later, she cheered up, and Oleg forgot about the trifling situation. Everything was going well until the moment the girl received a call from the clinic.

When his mistress burst into his office in tears, Weinstein grimaced. He tried not to mix personal with work and repeatedly said to Yana: "You should not appear in my office."

She, despite the extreme degree of excitement, considered Weinstein's dissatisfaction legitimate and whispered:

– Sorry! I'm dying, I'm scared!

- What happened? Oleg was surprised. “At your age, it’s too early to think about death.

Yana, with a trembling hand, handed him a piece of paper with her analyzes. Oleg does not understand medicine at all. All these basophils, rod-shaped, monocytes, erythrocytes and so on are a dark forest for him, but in the blood test forms, as a rule, the norm is indicated in brackets. Let's say "leukocytes: 4-8 tons." For Yana, all indicators were either significantly higher or significantly lower than the average values. And at the bottom of the form was a frightening red stamp with the inscription: "Contact your doctor immediately."

Oleg grabbed the sobbing Yana and took her to the clinic. This time they were received by the head physician, doctor of sciences, professor Yakov Barinov.

- I will not hide the fact that the situation is serious, - he said, - you do not have a very good picture of the analysis. Maybe it's something in the range hemolytic anemia: thalassemia, Minkowski-Choffard disease, sickle cell anemia. More research is needed.

Yana sobbed, and Oleg asked:

- Explain in a human way, I don’t understand your “fenya”.

Barinov raised his eyebrows.

- Roughly speaking, in the body of your companion there is an increased breakdown of red blood cells, a shortening of their life. Weakness, fatigue, dizziness, shortness of breath are just external signs.

- I will die! Voronina was horrified.

“No,” Weinstein barked, “they will help you.

“We will do our best,” replied the more cautious Barinov.

The next month, Yana struggled with the disease, but the treatment was not very effective. The most interesting thing is that while taking the medicine, she felt healthy until the results of the next tests were shown to her in the hospital. The doctor explained to the patient:

- The liver is more or less in relative order, but the kidneys are failing.

Yana fell into a panic, bought regular drugs at the pharmacy and drank them diligently. Until the next visit to the doctor, she had time to calm down a little, but she talked with the doctor and was frightened again.

Weinstein is ruthless in business, but in his personal life he is a decent, gentle person, so he did not start a new chick, still gave Yana considerable sums for treatment and supported her morally. Almost heroic behavior, considering that Voronina was now constantly crying.

Shortly before the New Year, Yana rushed to Oleg and said that she had overheard the conversation of doctors and learned information that was not intended for her ears.

“I have very little left,” the girl said sadly, “I won’t live until spring. Olezhek, I have no one but you, I'm very afraid to die alone and I don't want my body to be forgotten in the morgue.

Weinstein was frightened and decided to have another talk with Barinov himself. The conversation got tough. The doctor stated:

- Medicine is not yet able to cope with a number of diseases.

- You treated her badly! Oleg was indignant.

“We are trying,” Yakov shrugged, “but, alas, the death pill has not yet been invented.

"Is there really nothing that can be done?" Oleg exclaimed.

“Well… er… no,” Barinov mumbled after a short hesitation, “unfortunately.

Weinstein lashed out at the doctor:

– Is there any chance? Answer immediately.

Jacob hesitated.

- Don't lose hope.

- Are there any cures for the disease that kills Yana? - Oleg did not lag behind.

“In principle, yes,” the professor said reluctantly.

- Get them out ASAP! the businessman was outraged.

“She already accepted everything,” the academician mumbled, “but this does not help some people. For such cases, new drugs are being developed, but while they are not in practical medicine, they have not yet passed laboratory tests.

For about an hour, Weinstein persuaded Yakov to continue Yana's treatment, but in the end he was forced to leave without salty slurping.

Oleg went down to the underground garage and saw a man in his forties in a white coat near his car. The doctor spoke loudly on the phone.

- Well, where is the minivan with ampoules? Ugliness! I don't care about traffic jams. Do you even know what you deliver? An experimental drug for hemolytic anemia! It should have been here an hour ago. Patients are waiting! A group of people is ready, and you can't bring a new tool that will save their lives in time! Goats!

The doctor uttered the last word, already putting the pipe in his pocket, then he noticed Oleg and was embarrassed:

- Excuse me, it’s not good to yell and swear like that, but not everyone perceives intelligent speech. We want to cure those who are not helped by ordinary injections, and the driver seems to be drinking coffee!

“Are you waiting for experimental injections,” Oleg gasped, “a drug for anemia that has not yet been put into production?”

Whom do I have the honor to talk to? - A stranger answered a question with a question.

“My close friend is sick,” Weinstein exclaimed, “Barinov said today that medicine is powerless in her case, but you have a new remedy!”

"True," he nodded.

Page 6 of 19

doctor, - we got wonderful results in monkeys and pigs. At the most, after two weeks, the subjects recovered, and the control group died within the same period. I really hope that our development will save millions of lives, so I work almost without a break for sleep. And it infuriates me when irresponsible people cannot deliver much-needed medication to the clinic on time! Goats! Lazy bastards! We left the factory not at seven in the morning, but at noon!

- Who are you? Oleg asked him.

- Igor Rodionov, - said the doctor, - a representative of the manufacturer. Today, the hospital begins testing the drug on a group of volunteers,” he explained.

“Ah, you son of a bitch! shouted Oleg. - Barinov could have included Yana in this group. He didn't want to help us!

“Don’t blame the doctor,” Rodionov stopped the businessman, “he has no right to independence. The hospital acts solely as a testing ground, providing us with wards and equipment. Volunteers were looking for a pharmacological company, she manages everything, almost no one in the medical center knows about the experiment. You understand, this is a trade secret.

“Please,” Oleg pleaded, “give my girlfriend a chance.”

“I would love to,” the doctor said, “but the group has already been recruited. The only option is if someone gives up their place to her.

I'm willing to pay whatever it takes! - said Oleg.

Rodionov smiled softly.

You are a generous person, I will try to help you. Say your phone number and don't turn it off at night.

Shortly before midnight, Igor connected with Oleg and asked him to come to a sleeping area in Moscow. Weinstein went, ended up in a poor apartment, saw a young guy with a pipe down his throat on an old sofa. “This is Sergei,” said Rodionov, “unfortunately, he is very bad, but he hears and understands everything perfectly.”

The young man nodded and made a weak gesture with his hand.

“Seryozha knows that he is doomed,” Igor continued, “and he is ready to give his chance to Yana. Do you see the terrible conditions they live in? Lisa, come here.

A young woman with a large belly emerged from the corridor. She silently sat down on the sofa and hugged her dying husband. Oleg got a tight lump in his throat, like a rubber lump. Believe me, even the most notorious bastard and scoundrel would shed tears, surveying a miserable little room with a beggarly situation, a pregnant woman who could barely hold back her tears, and a guy who had only a few hours of life left. His appearance was spoiled not only by illness, but also by a strange birthmark on the side of his neck, under his chin. The mark was dark yellow and quite large, and since the unfortunate man was lying on a low cushion, the defect was clearly visible. Lisa did not have a spectacular appearance. Small blue eyes, a small mouth and a slightly upturned snub-nosed nose: on the street, after such a woman, they will not turn around.

“Seryozha dreams that Elizabeth and the newborn will receive decent living conditions and the first time, until the wife recovers from childbirth and goes to work, have a livelihood,” Rodionov continued, “this is the amount that he expects to receive in cash.

Igor handed Oleg sheets, where there was a figure with a large number of zeros. Despite the delicacy of the situation, Weinstein could not help exclaiming:

- Wow! Not a lot!

Rodionov shrugged.

- In fact, Sergei sells his life. He understands that even in his position, there is still a chance for salvation, although it is scanty, but there is hope.

“It's very expensive,” Oleg tried to bring down the price.

“What are you talking about,” Liza whispered, “no, I can’t take it anymore! Igor Nikolaevich, thank you, but we refuse. Seryozha will try to be treated, suddenly it will help him! And how can I live without it? What about our baby? All. End. I'm sorry, you went in vain, but I will not give my husband's life.

Oleg was frightened and quickly said:

- All right, tomorrow the full amount will be transferred to your account.

Elizabeth sobbed:

- Not! Never.

Sergei raised his hand with difficulty, pulled the pipe out of his mouth and whispered:

- Go to the kitchen.

The wife unquestioningly obeyed, the dying man turned his head with difficulty to Oleg and wheezed:

- Cash, I don't trust banks. You put in dollars, you get my place in the group, and then you take the money back.

“It’s impossible,” Weinstein tried to explain, “I have no right to manage your account.

- I want cash! - Sergey declared and stuck the tube back down his throat.

“And I will make sure that your Yana gets into the group that will be given real pills,” Rodionov interjected into the conversation.

What does real mean? Oleg shuddered.

Igor was confused.

Do you know how medicines are tested?

- Not! Tell me immediately, - the businessman got angry.

Rodionov often:

- Patients are selected at different stages of the disease, then they are divided into two groups: clinical and control. The first is given real medicines, the second receives a pacifier, she is injected with saline and offered sugar tablets in a shell.

- Why? Oleg didn't understand.

“Well, it’s supposed to be,” the researcher muttered, “in order to clearly understand whether the novelty really helps, or the body itself coped with the misfortune. This is not only Russian practice, this is done all over the world.

- And terminally ill people are not indignant? Weinstein was amazed. “Do they require real medicine?” Dutifully substituted for fake injections?

Igor averted his eyes.

“Well…they don't know they're getting trickery. This is part of the experiment.

Oleg took out his phone and woke up the owner of the bank, where he kept a lot of money. At ten in the morning, a bag of dollars was brought to Sergei, at noon Igor Rodionov came to Yana and gave her pills. A week later, Voronina forgot about her illness, her good mood and appetite returned. Rodionov took the empty blisters from the ward and advised:

– Do, if you want, an independent analysis. According to our research, Voronina's indicators are normal. Go to Barinov, let him assess the condition of the patient.

Yana went to the clinic, where they took her blood and announced:

- Nothing threatens your health.

Weinstein went into a euphoric state. True, he wanted to go to Barinov and figure everything out, but Yana stopped him, recalling that the place in the group was obtained at the cost of the life of another person, and Oleg did not go to the medical center. Yana, too, from happiness did not smell the ground under her feet. At the peak of emotions, Oleg made an offer to his mistress, now they are preparing for the wedding. Yana went to Paris for wedding dress, and the businessman hastily started repairs in his penthouse, rebuilds the bachelor's lair into a cozy family apartment.

“Happy ending raged,” I muttered when Oleg stopped gushing words. - Yana is healthy, and what's the problem?

Oleg slammed his fist on the table:

“I figured out how much this whole story cost me!” If I call a number, you'll be sick!

Max smiled wryly.

- Do you want to demand compensation from the Barinov clinic? I'm afraid it won't be easy. You were not forced to be treated, you yourself came to the doctors. And why are we here? Better contact a lawyer.

"Doctors are liars!" Weinstein blushed. - They scammed me like a sucker!

“You voluntarily paid for the treatment of your future wife,” I interjected with my remark.

- I was forced! the businessman was outraged.

Max got up and

Page 7 of 19

started pacing around the conference room.

“Let’s set aside emotions and calmly discuss the state of things. Yana died?

“Yes,” Oleg muttered.

Do you have a history of her illness? Wolf continued.

“No,” Oleg muttered.

“Probably, it is kept in Barinov’s clinic,” I suggested.

Weinstein coughed and demanded:

I poured him mineral water and held out a glass, he drained it in one fell swoop, then said:

- I was a little nervous, tore up the papers, but Yakov deserved it! Scoundrel!

Maxim sat opposite Oleg:

Is there something we don't know? Where did you get nervous?

“At Barinov’s clinic,” Weinstein admitted reluctantly. - As soon as I saw him, I immediately understood everything and lost my temper. All their machinations became visible at a glance. Nothing, let him sue me, and there he will talk with my lawyers.

- What made you angry? I asked.

Oleg pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and took a puff. I was surprised: strange, the businessman did not click the lighter, how did he light the cigarette?

“Sorry, it’s forbidden to smoke in our office,” Max said, “this is the decision of the general meeting of the team. Even I, the master, was forced to obey him. True, it personally benefited me, I quit, which I advise you.

Weinstein held out his hand.

“This is an electronic device that mimics a cigarette.

- Truth? I was surprised. - Surprisingly similar to the real one!

Oleg dragged on again.

But doesn't it smell?

I turned my nose.

– Absolutely! Any dog would envy my sense of smell, but even I don't smell the slightest.

The businessman raised the cigarette to his mouth again.

- It's steam. The electronic focus was invented by the Japanese. The manual says that the user will quickly wean from real tobacco. I didn't believe. From the age of twelve I smoked, I thought nothing would wean me from smoking. All sorts of nicotine patches, chewing gum, incredible stupidity. But Pavel, my secretary, brought this and literally forced me to try. I puff for a week and don’t even remember about real cigarettes. There will be a surprise for Yanka. She doesn’t know yet that I have given up smoking,” the businessman explained.

“The electronic pacifier is a great thing, but let’s get back to Barinov’s clinic,” Max suggested, “as far as I understand, you made a scandal there.

“Well, that’s a strong word,” Weinstein objected, “so, I threw every little thing on the floor. I tore Yankee's medical history to shreds, let off steam, then went to you.

- Do you want us to fight Barinov for you? I snorted. - Wall to wall?

- Exactly! Oleg unexpectedly agreed.

“You'd better contact the boxers' society,” Max advised with absolute seriousness.

Oleg's face fell.

- What made you so angry? I quickly asked. - What do you want to deal with?

Weinstein relaxed slightly.

- This morning, around nine, I was driving to the office and got stuck in a traffic jam in front of a cafe ...

The tape of cars did not move, and Oleg, out of boredom, began to look at the landscape outside the window. After a couple of seconds, I saw a cheerfully chatting trinity at the table of the tavern - two men and a young woman. Weinstein recognized them. They were Igor Rodionov, Elizaveta and completely healthy Sergey.

- You are not mistaken? Max doubted. Maybe the guy just looked like him?

Weinstein let out a sigh.

No, I have a photographic memory. This talent, on the one hand, helps me, on the other hand, it hinders me. I couldn't forget Sergei. It's a little strange to see a resurrected corpse swallowing coffee and laughing merrily. Don't find?

Maybe he got cured? I mumbled.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Oleg waved him off. - I remembered how I was at their house, and suddenly I realized: I was divorced. A tube! Why didn't I doper earlier! It's clear? Sergei was connected to a breathing apparatus. Well? Well! Are you idiots like me?

Max was confused, at first I also did not understand what Oleg meant, but then I realized:

- During the conversation, Sergei took out the phone in front of your eyes?

- Vigorous matryona! Yes! the businessman confirmed.

“And then put her back in her place?” I laughed. Yes, he is a magician!

Since Max continued to look at Weinstein in bewilderment, I came to my husband's aid:

- I don’t know what the breathing tube is scientifically called, but it’s not easy to pull it out with your own hands, and it’s completely unrealistic to insert it back, the manipulation is performed by the medical staff, not every sister can cope with this procedure. If Sergei himself pulled out the device, and then returned it back, then he is a deceiver. Sword swallowers perform in the circus, some of them are scammers with special props, they pretend to insert a blade into the esophagus, but in fact the strip of steel is retracted into the handle. I think that breathing tube Native sister"death dagger".

Oleg patted me on the shoulder.

- Well done! So, I decided to go to a cafe and catch the scumbags. He ordered the driver to park, he drove a little ahead, found a place. I ran to the diner and found an empty table there, the bastards left, while driving a jeep by the sidewalk, they attached it. The waiter said that he saw them for the first time. The restaurant is cheap, it is located near the metro, there are no regular customers, many people run there to drink coffee before work.

“Uh-huh,” Max nodded, “I hope you didn’t rush to Sergei’s house?”

“Of course, I rushed,” I sighed, “cancelled everything and rushed off.

- Would you resist? Weinstein yelled. - Yes, I rushed to the damn slums! I found a grandmother there, half-mad! Barely explained to her!

- She probably rents out her living space, - Max suggested, - and you, overwhelmed with healthy and completely justified indignation, drove to Barinov’s clinic on a jet broom and arranged for him the last day of Pompeii?

Oleg crossed his legs, it became clear that his socks were short and completely unsuitable for either light trousers or a red shirt. of blue color.

- On the way, I stepped on the throat of emotions and quite politely asked Yakov: “Do you think you can get away with cheating? Uroyu on figs.

- Indeed, a very intelligent statement, - Max agreed, - and what answer did you get?

Weinstein squinted.

- He started to get out! Say, Yankee has an unusual course of the disease! He carried a crap, juggled with abstruse words, thought I wouldn’t understand and would fall behind. But I didn’t run into such a one! I asked him purely specifically: “Are you and Rodionov in share?”

“I suppose Yakov completely denied his acquaintance with Igor,” I put in.

Oleg pulled a silk handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his sweaty forehead.

- I guessed. Gad made round eyes and let's lie. They did not conduct any drug testing, Yana is sick. I called the reception, ordered the papers to be brought, and began to poke a finger into her medical history! Well, I freaked out! Swept everything from his desk to the floor! Phone smashed, table lamp knocked! Ripped Yankina's papers to shreds!

“That last thing you did in vain,” Max reproached.

- Yes, they wrote there I get along! Oleg was indignant. “I understood all their mechanics. Choose rich clients and start foolish! They slip false results, write a terrible diagnosis, and then set up an allegedly random meeting with Rodionov, who beats out the loot for a place in the group of subjects. If Yanka was so sick, why didn't she die?

“Cured with a new remedy,” I replied.

- Yeah, - Oleg grimaced, - and Sergey was wielding a pipe back and forth. They are scammers, I want to punish them! Publicly!

Page 8 of 19

Put on trial! I need noise, press, television! Of course, you can crush Barinov like a rat in a dark alley, but not the same thrill. Let the doctor sit in the cell, lie down under the racks, wait for the court for more than a year and set sail for the zone in Stolypin. I am firmly convinced: Jacob is a creeping bastard.

“What if he was telling the truth?” I asked. - Probably, Yana was really sick.

“She is healthier than many,” Oleg said, “young, beautiful, she buys a dress for a wedding. We are expecting a baby!

Max and I looked at each other.

“That’s it,” Weinstein nodded happily, “if a woman could get pregnant, then she’s in perfect order.”

“A controversial opinion,” I sighed.

- Are you absolutely sure of Barinov's involvement in the scam? Maxim asked. - It is likely that Rodionov acted autonomously.

- Well, I do not! the businessman fumed. He was waiting for me in the garage! I don’t understand something, are you defending Barinov?

“No,” I answered quickly. - We want to get to the bottom of the truth, so we put forward different versions.

Weinstein whistled:

“Okay, here’s a killer argument for you. Imagine: I started to smash this room, left books on the floor, broke the glass. How will you react to this?

“I’ll call security,” Max answered calmly.

Oleg raised his index finger:

- O! You will also call the police, call the OMON and others. And Yashka called the nurse, that beaker with the medicine locked up and cackled: “Drink, now calm down.” Barinov sang a duet with her: “Don’t be nervous, you have an apoplectic warehouse, a pressure surge, a hypertensive crisis, a stroke are likely.” While he pretended to care, the nurse managed to make an injection in my back, right through my shirt. My eyes swam, my legs gave way, they put me in the ward, kept me for about an hour, and then escorted me to the door with honor. I walked like a zombie, the anger hid inside, didn’t spill out, I saw and heard well, but I felt like a doll.

“You were injected with something like Phenozepam,” Max suggested.

“You’ll never guess what Barinov said to me at parting,” Oleg squealed. - I quote verbatim: “Ask Yana to come to our clinic. Despite the fact that she feels well, she needs to be tested. Absolutely free!!" What is it? BUT? In short, you're going to the doctor!

A short forefinger with a ring rested almost on my face.

“I’ll dress you expensively, sprinkle with gold, put you in a good car, and drive to Yashka,” Oleg outlined his plan, “you’ll portray a rich aunt, he’ll definitely bite.” Most importantly, say that you are single, well, like, a non-working widow, you spend your inheritance, you do not regret anything for yourself.

– A good option, - Max picked up, - a tidbit for a swindler. There is a lot of money, little mind, and there are no men around.

- Orphan! - the businessman agitated. No parents, no children, no lovers. From boredom to doctors roams. Fat fish. Come on, get up, it's time to go.

I grabbed the armrests of the chair.

Let me ask you: where?

- To the store, - Oleg explained businesslike, - for a bag, shoes, a dress. I'll rent you jewelry and buy clothes. Then you leave them to yourself. Well? Get up. I suppose you love shopping, now you'll have fun at my expense!

“I hate shops,” I snapped, “I work for Max as a secretary, my job is to serve coffee. Maxim can find another candidate for you. And anyway, I'm a detective, not a decoy. You've offered me good money, but I'm not going to be baited.

“I want you,” Oleg said in the tone of a boy whose mother refused to buy a typewriter. - Dot.

“The others are busy,” Max said, looking into my eyes. - We have a staff shortage, I can’t find new employees, I probably set too high requirements, but I don’t intend to lower the bar. Now only you are free.

“I don’t want to do this job,” I said stubbornly. “I am not a full-time employee and never will be, but I am ready to investigate. I don't want to be a worm on a hook.

Do you have anarchy here? Oleg murmured. “Last time you took care of my case.

“Wait a second,” Max asked, “we'll be right back.

“Okay,” the visitor nodded and took a puff on his electronic cigarette.

My husband took me out into the corridor and whined:

– Lampusha, he is an excellent client, this is not the first time he has come here, is it really difficult for you?

“It’s strange that I even agreed to be present in the negotiation room after the joke with the skull,” I retorted, “dressed up the mannequin as a grandmother and seated me in a chair.

Max, with the most honest look, exclaimed:

“It's not me,” which made me even more excited.

- Yah? And who told me to go talk to the old woman? Pushkin? I said that I won’t plow on you, I don’t want to be subordinate to my husband, this is the most the right way destroy a family. No and no! And then, at the beginning of the conversation with Oleg, you condemned me for agreeing to work with him!

“One time, please,” Max murmured.

But I was already in a hurry back to the office, entered and loudly declared:

– Thank you for the offer, but I do not have the necessary qualities for such a responsible job. I'm not a graduate, just a small detective.

Oleg took out a massive, it looks like a golden pen from his briefcase.

“Professionals built the Titanic, and, as you know, it sank. Noah's Ark was built by an amateur, and his family, along with the animals, escaped safely from the flood. Here is the amount you will receive. I emphasize, not the agency, but you personally.

I looked at the sheet with the number:

“I am flattered by such a generous offer, but as I said, I cannot be bought. Hire another person!

“I want a woman, not a man,” Weinstein said, “and I like you. I want you.

The sharp tip of the pen added another zero to the figure.

- That's better? The client raised an eyebrow.

I was confused, so far I have not been offered such an impressive fee. But Oleg understood my silence in his own way. The pen drew a new zero sign.

“I’ll hand it over tomorrow in an envelope,” Weinstein cooed, “you substitute your paw with a ladle and you get everything without taxes.”

- Agree! - it just popped out of me.

Weinstein rubbed his palms.

- Gorgeous! We will work! I love flexible people. Only fools stupidly repeat the same thing! Chased for clothes.

- Wait a minute, - Maxim cooled Oleg's ardor, - do not consider criminals fools. It is possible that the organizers of the scam carefully check the candidates. The performance with Sergei, breathing tube, pregnant Lisa and a rented apartment testifies to a pre-written script. We also need to prepare. What if they follow the Lamp home? Find out who she really is?

- It's solved! Oleg nodded. Let him stay with me for a while!

“Great idea,” I laughed. “That’s when the crooks will definitely not guess anything. Just think, the “widow” settled down in the same penthouse with Weinstein, who made a fuss in the hospital.

“I have an idea,” Max said. And he offered something that I completely forgot about

Page 9 of 19

stupid joke with a mannequin.

In a few days, Max managed to fashion a new personality out of me. I am now Elena Sergeevna Krotova, I don’t work anywhere, because my late husband Heinrich Altstadt left me a huge fortune. I married Heinrich early, went to live with him in Germany, but all the years of a happy marriage I missed Russia very much. Having erected a magnificent monument on the grave of my husband, I returned to Moscow and temporarily settled with my distant relative Evlampia Romanova. I'm not going to live in someone else's house for a long time, I want to buy an apartment in the capital.

The most interesting thing is that this story is almost true. My late mother had a second cousin, Tatyana, who died when I entered the third grade. I remember Aunt Tanya well: she loved bright clothes, always wore dresses of juicy red, orange, hysterically green or yellow tones, had beautiful black hair and was the complete opposite of my mother in character. Mommy lived happily for many years with one husband, never threw tantrums, spoke in a calm tone and managed the household with a firm hand. Tatyana, on the other hand, constantly screamed, for no reason ran into her daughter, then she forbade her to eat sweets, yelling: “No one will marry a fat woman,” then she flooded the unfortunate Lenochka with sweets and yelled: “Take a treat, sunshine, you’ll sign with an idiot, then you’ll sip bitter."

I have almost no memories of Lena. A quiet girl with a lot of curly hair is all I can say. We've never been friends. A huge city interfered with close communication, I lived in the north, and Lena in the west of Moscow, on the metro small child even in relatively calm Soviet times they didn’t let one go, so we met only on holidays, when Aunt Tanya came to visit. Mom never visited her. Once I asked: “Mommy, why don’t the Krotovs ever invite us?”

She quickly answered: “Tanya lives in a communal apartment, her room with Lena is small, the neighbors are scandalous. It's better to sit in our living room."

Maybe if Lena and I went to the same class or lived in neighboring houses, we would have developed a friendship, but daily communication did not work out, we actually grew up as strangers. Then Aunt Tanya died, and Lena was taken away by relatives on her father's side, her traces were lost.

“I doubt that crooks will dig deep,” Max said yesterday, handing me my passport, “most importantly, stick to the developed line of conduct, and there will be no problems.

“Probably, I should have rented an apartment for the duration of the action,” I hesitated, looking at the document, “what if the scammers do not want to deal with a relative of Maxim Wolf? You are a fairly well-known personality in the market of detective services.

Max, like all men, never immediately agrees with his wife, so he replied:

- Oleg Weinstein is a rich man, in addition to money, he has an explosive character. In addition, he has a lot of connections in various circles, he drinks vodka with many, goes hunting and takes a steam bath. It costs nothing for him to turn to the right guys or responsible employees of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, who will show the deceivers the sky in diamonds. If the crooks were not afraid of him, then they will spit on me, I am not an authority for them.

Why did Weinstein come to you? I wondered belatedly. “With his connections, it’s easy to solve this problem in one day!”

Max smiled.

- The guy was cheated, circled around the finger, the harvest was shaken from the money tree. Oleg does not want to tell everyone about this. How is it then to communicate with a man who knows that you were scammed? Who wants to look like a fool? So he ran here, Oleg does not go to saunas with me.

“Maybe I should move out?” I doubted. - Call yourself Elena Krotova, but settle down to live autonomously?

“No,” Max snapped.

- But why? I didn't lag behind. - Explain with reason!

“No means no,” Maxim announced. - This is the best argument.

“It’s just great,” I agreed, “but if the scammers don’t want to contact your distant relative, don’t make any claims to me.

“Deal,” Max nodded, “tomorrow they are waiting for you at Barinov’s, Elena has an appointment. A wealthy widow wants to live longer in this world.

In the morning I went to the salon, spent several hours there, then looked into the bookstore, got back in the car, started the engine, looked in the rearview mirror and screamed when I saw an unfamiliar brown-haired woman. It took a few seconds before it dawned on me that the dark-haired madam was really me. You won't believe the extent to which a new hair color and length can change the appearance.

Women who zealously take care of themselves every day need to erect a monument during their lifetime. I begin to scratch nervously if the master clicks the scissors for more than thirty minutes. And today's visit was a real test for my nervous system. First, they turned me from a blonde into a brown-haired woman, then they gave my hair a shade of “cognac with honey” and made extensions. As a result, now in the mirror, instead of the usual tousled straw-colored feathers, I see a waterfall of curls shimmering in sunshine. My eyebrows were also shaded, and now they are just sable. Another master drew me a small "fly" over the right corner of the mouth.

“This is too much,” I protested, when a guy named Lenya began to carefully apply a mole.

- Not at all, - Leonid rested, - you refused large-scale makeup, so you need to use a trick. When people meet, they will hold their eyes on the mole, which means they will pay less attention to facial features. In their memory you will remain as a pleasant young lady with a noticeable sign. A mole is what everyone will think of when they hear the name of Krotov.

I had to agree.

- Okay, but will she wash off later?

“Of course,” Lenya promised, “in a day there will be no trace left of the stain, if necessary, you can paint it yourself, here’s paint in reserve.”

I sighed. I don’t want to portray Carmen at all, but did they leave me a choice? However, I will be honest: I was offered the royal fee for the first time, and now I am suffering because of my own greed.

And now, looking in the mirror, I'm trying to get used to the new look. Eyes, nose, mouth, forehead, cheeks, smile - everything remained the same, but the hair and the notorious mole destroyed the Romanov Lamp. Anguish crept into my soul, but I can cope with despondency and at the same moment got rid of this feeling. Do you know how? Any situation that irritates you must be brought to the point of absurdity. Well, let's say you stood on the scales, saw that they show three kilos more, and wailed: "I'm a fat cow, ugly, I won't fit into the subway car."

Stop, don't cry, take another look at the arrow and imagine that it has sharply gone to the right to the number "120". Is it possible? Well, of course, if there is such a mark, therefore, this weight category is quite common. The number "400", for example, is missing, but "120" is welcome. So how is it? Sixty kilos is much better! Don't find? Here, calm down.

This method is good in all cases of life. Husband forgot about Valentine's Day? He stomped home from work, ate a festive dinner and, without asking why his wife cooked a cake and roast rabbit, and placed red candles on the nightstand, flopped at the telly with a bottle of beer in his hand? And you went to the bedroom and swallow

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tears, repeating to himself: “Well, how can you be such a freak? He didn't even bring chocolate.

Okay, imagine that it was like this. The husband brought a set of sweets in a box in the shape of a heart, and after dinner he fussed and said: “I am urgently called to work! Do not be bored, dear, ”and rushed to the bathroom to shave.

While he was putting himself in order, you climbed into his briefcase, found there ... no, not the cheap assortment that you got, but a velvet box with a pretty ring. The spouse’s mobile phone is full of SMS like “I’m looking forward to it”, “Where are you, cat?”, “Will our romantic dinner be in a restaurant?”.

Well, which is better? An inattentive but faithful spouse or a box of chocolate from the hands of Casanova? You know, there are many ladies who weigh more than a centner, and there are countless women whose husbands go to the left. If they heard your lamentations about sixty kilograms and lost sweets, oh, how they would swear! Therefore, calm down, everything is fine with you, you have a beautiful figure and a normal spouse.

I looked away from the mirror. Just think, an ugly dark mole! Leonid could draw a mustache for me too!

I got to Barinov’s clinic without any incidents, carefully placed a luxurious foreign car in the underground parking lot and, hanging a defiantly expensive bag on my shoulder, clicked the heels of designer shoes on the marble floors of the clinic.

Jacob turned out to be quite a pleasant person. He listened to my complaints about tingling in the right side, pain in the left, dizziness, melancholy, insomnia, constant desire to doze off during the day and asked:

- You didn't have breakfast?

“No, I was warned that tests are done on an empty stomach,” I nodded.

“Excellent,” the doctor praised me, “now Masha will take you through the rooms, you shouldn’t be afraid, it won’t hurt.

Barinov did not deceive, real professionals worked for him. When blood was taken from a vein, I did not feel an injection, the otolaryngologist did not put cold glands into my ear, throat and nose, but shone some kind of device there. The therapist's stethoscope was warm, the couch on which I lay down to take the cardiogram was carefully covered with a disposable sheet, and the room where the tomograph worked was not icy. All the doctors had soft hands and quiet, soothing voices, none of them clicked their tongues, did not raise their eyebrows and did not say: “What are you doing, my dear, so let yourself go! You don’t live in a remote village, in the capital of Russia, you had to undergo regular medical examinations. ”

For an hour and a half, the pretty Mashenka dragged me from one device to another, eventually led me to a cozy buffet, seated me at a table, brought a glass of latte, salmon with vegetables and said:

- You definitely need to eat. Refresh yourself, rest, and return to Yakov Sergeevich's office.

I took out a pretentious wallet from my bag:

- How much for my lunch?

- Not a penny, - Masha delighted the client, - the cost of food is included in the price of the examination.

“Very nice,” I nodded. With my fingers, on which different-sized carats sparkled, I fished out a piece of paper for one hundred euros from my purse and handed it to the nurse: - This is your tip.

“Oh, I won’t take it,” Masha was frightened.

- Why? I chuckled. - Few? Now I will add.

“I have a salary,” the nurse said.

“Extra money never hurt anyone,” I retorted.

- You eat calmly, - Masha did not flinch and ran away, leaving a hundred euros on the countertop.

I removed the bill. The girl passed the test for lice with brilliance. I wonder if she is the only one here or did Barinov manage to find absolutely disinterested medical personnel?

The salmon was delicious and the coffee was strong. I emptied the plate, pushed aside the cup with the rest of the milk foam, and at the same moment, as ordered, another girl, not Masha, entered the buffet room and suggested:

- Let's go to Yakov Sergeevich.

“You don’t have any problems,” Yakov stunned me. - The tests are wonderful, the liver, kidneys, stomach, lungs, heart are normal. I would like to complain, but there is nothing. I bet you never get a cold. When was the last time you got a runny nose?

“I suffer from insomnia,” I whined. - And during the day, on the contrary, I doze off.

- You're not working? Find an interesting occupation for yourself, Barinov advised.

I pursed my lips.

- Here's another! I have a multi-million dollar fortune and am not going to break for a penny!

“Do charity work,” Yakov continued. There are many abandoned children in the world.

- Ugh! I grimaced. They have bad genetics! I'm not going to be responsible for those who thoughtlessly gave birth to a child! I can't stand babies, toddlers and teenagers.

“You can help dogs or cats,” Barinov shrugged his shoulders, “municipal hospitals will be happy to volunteer, in any church you will be gladly accepted into the ranks of those who cook soup for the hungry.

- Stand by the stove? - I was indignant and began to twirl the rings on my fingers. - No! I'm definitely sick! Find the cause of my bad health and eliminate it! I'll pay for expensive, state-of-the-art medicines!

Barinov neatly folded the leaves in a pile:

- You need fitness. Three times per week. Less gourmet food, forget about caviar, chocolate, expensive cheese, lobsters and others like them. Hercules, buckwheat, cottage cheese, kefir, nuts - these are your friends. Get up no later than seven, shower yourself cold water, have a light breakfast and go on business.

I stubbornly continued to play a capricious rich lady:

- I don't work!

“Housekeeping is also suitable,” Yakov smiled, “cleaning, ironing, grocery shopping, cooking, you can find interest in everything.

“I have enough money for the servants!” I yelled. - I want to be treated!

Barinov leaned his palms on the table:

- Your problems grow from your security, their name is boredom. Our body is a cunning mechanism. The brain realized that the hostess was toiling from idleness, and helpfully began to help her. You are tired of laziness. It is better to contact a psychotherapist, so he will take impressive money and begin to delve into your experiences day after day. You will get what you want from a psychologist - expensive services and maximum attention. From my point of view, you are healthy! You have nothing to do in my center!

I got lost. Max and I were sure that the head physician would instantly seize the opportunity to “treat” the widow and prescribe a bunch of procedures for her. But Jacob behaved unpredictably.

I had to pretend to be outraged.

"So you think I'm a bum?"

“Yes,” the head physician declared with childlike frankness. - As soon as you find something to your liking, both sleep and appetite will instantly improve. Or get married, dip in family life It's not too late for you to get pregnant and have a baby.

I clung to the last hope to ask for treatment:

- With my capital, it is difficult to be sure of the sincerity of the partner's feelings. I'm not going to go down the aisle! Let's repeat the test. Suddenly your doctors and laboratory assistants were mistaken.

– All together? Jacob smiled.

“All right,” I gave up, “advise me a knowledgeable, dear soul researcher. My financial situation does not allow me to lie on a torn couch or talk about my problems as part of a group of alcoholics.

Barinov sighed.

There is no psychologist in my clinic. Consult with friends.

“I just arrived from Germany and haven't made any friends yet,” I reported.

- Look in

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The Internet, there is nothing better than word of mouth, - Yakov advised.

I felt like Napoleon, who was waiting in vain on Poklonnaya Hill for a delegation of Muscovites with the keys to the city. Yakov is not going to relieve Elena Krotova from ailments. What's the matter? Maybe the head physician sensed an ambush? Did I fake a wealthy widow? Something alarmed Jacob?

- Please pay for today's visit, - said the owner of the clinic, - Alina will see you through.

I said goodbye to Yakov and followed the girl in a short dressing gown. Hope arose in my soul, probably Barinov is an excellent actor, now a new act of the play will begin.

There was no one at the checkout.

“Thirty-two thousand,” said the lady at the counter, “can be paid by card.

- How? - I was outraged.

The nurse looked down, the administrator chattered:

- I understand that the amount is impressive, but you have been given all possible diagnostics, including very expensive tests.

- Expensive? I did a pretty good job of feigning anger. - Are you kidding me? Free healthcare is disgusting! Why are you cheating customers?

Alina blinked rapidly, and the cashier was amazed:

- Who lied to you?

I waved my hand around the room.

- All. I recently arrived from Germany, where I lived happily with my billionaire husband. Heinrich always repeated: "God forbid to become so poor as to be treated for free." Once in Russia, I began to look for a decent, expensive hospital, I repeat, dear, I found your website on the Internet and realized: here it is!

- The right choice, - Alina interrupted me, - we have the best doctors, super-equipment and a full service cycle from a therapist's examination to abdominal operations. Did someone show you carelessness? Rude?

I stuck out my lip.

– Admittedly, I was taken to all the offices, the staff was friendly, but they did not find anything! Not the slightest sore, even the smallest!

“Rejoice,” the cashier sighed, “it means you have enviable health. Everything is different with me, they diagnosed stones in gallbladder and push for surgery!

“They charged me a penny for the inspection!” – not paying attention to her, I was indignant. - Terrible!

- Thirty-odd pieces of a penny for you? Alina was amazed.

- Is not it so? I snorted.

The cashier coughed, Alina smiled tightly:

“If you don’t trust our clinic, you can contact Ledswiss, where they will rob you for millions and start cleaning your aura. There is no one better than Yakov Sergeevich.

“Thirty-two thousand is a lot of money,” the cashier came to life. More than my monthly salary. Believe me, Barinov is a wonderful doctor.

I decided to demonstrate rudeness in full:

“Looks like Jacob set up a harem here. You are in love with him.

The aunt behind the cash desk puffed out her cheeks and silently turned away. Alina looked at me reproachfully:

- Yakov Sergeevich has a beloved wife and daughter. Barinov never sticks to either employees or patients. Come on, I'll take you to the garage, you can only go down there by elevator. Here you go.

I took a bright orange package from Alina's hands, decorated with a poisonous green cheerful smiley and the inscription "Choose the best from the good."

- What is it?

“The results of your examination,” the nurse explained, “tests, ultrasounds, and so on. Save the papers directly in our branded packaging, it is conspicuous. You will need to find it, and you will immediately see where it lies.

- It's a good idea to hand over the documents neatly assembled in a package. At the same time, and advertising the institution, - I smiled.

“Without PR, nowhere,” Alina agreed, “there are a lot of medical centers, you need to declare yourself loudly, otherwise people will not go.

We entered the lift, the cabin slowly crawled underground.

- Barinov is an imposing man, - I continued the conversation, - I would not mind reciprocating his attention.

Alina allowed herself frankness.

“Many people would like to have an affair with Yakov,” she said, “but the chief is flint. For him, there is only family. Yakov Sergeevich loves his wife and daughter. You can not even try to make eyes at him, never seduce him. Do you want advice?

“Speak,” I agreed graciously.

“Find yourself a husband,” Alina smiled.

“Easy to say,” I sighed, “with my illnesses.

“They will disappear immediately,” the nurse laughed, “believe me, a real man will save you from health problems.

“No, I want to be treated,” I balked.

Alina pressed the stop button, the cabin jerked and froze.

“Hey, hey,” I said excitedly, “I don’t like such jokes!”

The nurse put her finger to her lips.

- Quiet. Barinov is a good doctor and an excellent person, but he is very trusting, he believes that all the people around are decent. We have several freeloaders working here, they are reluctant to bother too much, so they half-heartedly look at the patient. Do you have aching in your right side?

- It hurts under the ribs! I rejoiced.

- Did you go for a checkup to Svetlana Rudyeva? Alina frowned.

- Yes! That's right, I nodded. - The sweetest doctor.

- She is a fool! Alina grimaced. Yes, Jacob is an idiot. Hired friends. Svetka is the wife of his late friend Viktor, who died in a car accident. Yakov warmed the widow and keeps her, despite his unprofessionalism. And our skinner Alena Fetisova? She is an ordinary therapist, but sits at the rate of a dermatologist. Well, isn't it a laugh? A pimple is indistinguishable from a nose. And why Yakov warmed Lenochka, you know? She was left with us, poor thing, without a mother at the age of fifteen. Great?

“Not really,” I agreed.

Alina took out a pen and a notebook from her dressing gown pocket, scrawled a phone number and handed it to me:

- Hold on. Koloskov Vladimir Petrovich, serves in the center "Rial". Genius diagnostician. But it's very expensive! Outrageous!

- Excellent, - I was delighted, opened my purse and handed Alina one hundred euros.

- Thank you, - the girl said, - we have small salaries, so I am glad for any, even a penny earnings.

I emptied my wallet for two more pieces of paper, the nurse sparkled with a happy smile and jabbed her finger at the button with the number “-1”.

When we approached the sparkling brand new foreign car, Alina could not restrain her admiration:

- What a beauty!

“It is impossible to buy a good car in Russia,” I drawled capriciously, “I had to take the cheap stuff that was available. I was offered to wait for the desired model for three months. Ugh! Now all this time I will ride in this box.

Alina stroked the rear fender of the car, quickly hid her hands behind her back and could not resist:

- You bought a luxury car that every woman dreams of, to use it for only a few months?

“I can’t walk on foot,” I smiled.

"Where are you going to put this one then?" The nurse didn't calm down. - Well, when will you get the right one?

“I have no idea,” I lightly waved it off, “I’ll throw it away, give it away, sell it, there are a lot of options. The fate of the old piece of iron does not bother me!

The silence that had arisen in the underground parking was interrupted by the beep of a pager on the belt of Alina's dressing gown.

“It’s time for me,” she thought, “happy road.”

The girl hurried to the elevator, I looked after her. I hope I did not go too far, portraying an eccentric widow, stupefied by wealth. Now I'll call Max and tell about my adventures.

I went around the car to open the front door and saw about

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front wheel purse. The thing was very expensive, made of crocodile skin, the left corner was decorated with a monogram of intertwined gold letters "K" and "C". I bent down, picked up my purse, sat behind the wheel and turned on the engine. The confusion is clearly a woman, a man will never acquire a tiny accessory of a piercing red color. The purse is small, just right for a tiny evening clutch bag, only a credit card will enter it, I hope it will indicate the name of the bank and the name of the account holder. Finding the owner is not difficult. I will only study the find on the street, in underground parking too stuffy.

As I pulled out onto the highway, I found an empty seat near the sidewalk, quickly occupied it, and opened the doll's purse. Inside it was empty: no credit card, not a penny of money. Only a small sheet, folded several times, turned white. I quickly unrolled it. "Help. I was kidnapped. I beg you! I don't know where I am. I am Laura. Fein. Save. Laura. Fane.

Two hours later, Max and I were sitting at home discussing the situation. Wulff managed to hand over the wallet and paper to the experts in the laboratory and now he was tormenting me with questions:

- Was the thing in the parking lot?

“Yes,” I nodded, “I think one of the visitors to Barinov’s clinic left her there. You can get into the underground garage only by passing the security post, and there they carefully check the car number. When I made an appointment, I was immediately asked: “Do you need a parking space? We'll order a pass."

“Well, its owner could have entered from the street and then taken the elevator to the garage,” Max suggested.

“Yakov Sergeevich does not allow patients to wander alone,” I explained, “I was constantly accompanied by nurses. And Alina did not say goodbye, putting me in the elevator, escorted me to the car. Now it is clear how the scammers turn their business. Yakov Sergeevich is impeccable, although I sparkled with decorations like a New Year tree, he did not find fatal ailments. Intelligently put me out, saying bluntly: my dear, your problems are from idleness. In front of Barinov sat a rich woman who dreamed of leaving a couple of million in the clinic, asking for expensive treatment, but the doctor was not seduced. But he could sign up a non-working widow for a detox program, getting rid of toxins, hydrocolonotherapy and other know-how designed to clear Pinocchio's wallet from gold coins. Our body is not a blast furnace, slags do not accumulate in it, but only one part of the population is intensively healed with the help of the Metelka salad, garlic tincture and nettle compresses, and the other agrees to various manipulations such as enemas with magical herbs from Tibet. There is no limit to human naivete.

Is Yakov Sergeevich a good doctor? Max interrupted my speech.

“Or strenuously portrays one,” I nodded. “He doesn’t descend to the level of a primitive swindle for money, he doesn’t prescribe miraculous vitamins and bioadditives, he doesn’t look for tricky sores in the patient like “left leg appendicitis” or “coccyx aura infection.” I think the doctor is quite successful in treating those who have real problems, and getting rid of specimens like Lena Krotova.

Max rolled his eyes.

- Selfless Hippocrates!

“Probably yes, but maybe not,” I drawled. – Recall that Igor Rodionov approached Oleg Vainshtein in the parking lot and seemed to accidentally inform about a group of patients for research. And Alina escorted me to the garage, who gave me the phone number of “the amazing doctor Vladimir Petrovich Koloskov.” At the same time, the girl lightly smeared mud on Svetlana Rudyeva, who examined me, and spoke about the poor professional training of the local dermatologist.

- It's clear, - Max chuckled, - the bright image of the radiant Yakov is not stained, he does not even suspect what the members of his team are doing. Ah, pranksters! But, I think, our Yasha's nose is also down, he is the head of a gang for taking money from the rich and stupid.

“I have already talked on the phone with Vladimir Petrovich, he is waiting for me with open arms tomorrow,” I continued.

Max grabbed the ringing phone.

- Yes. Yeah. It's clear. It's clear. Now I'll think. No, while at home.

- Something happened? I got worried.

– This is Vadim from the laboratory. The fingerprints on the wallet and note belong to Laura Fane, a thirty-five-year-old employee of the Portrait firm. The woman disappeared three years ago. The last time she was at work on Thursday, they began to search for her only on Tuesday next week and found her in the morgue. On Monday, the workers of one of the construction sites found the deceased. The woman was identified as Laura Fane and cremated. The deceased had no relatives, no husband, no friends, no lover, this story was quickly forgotten. But does it mean she's alive? Max was confused.

- Vadim could not make a mistake? Although, I'm sorry, I said stupidity, - I immediately corrected myself, - an expert pro, if he is sure that Fein's fingerprints are on things, then it is so. The woman was kidnapped, we have to help her.

Max patted the table with his hand.

- I have things to do, my people are all busy, there are no free hands.

“Laura has been held captive for three years!” – I was indignant. You can't leave her in trouble. If you don't want to save Fane, I'll take care of it myself.

“Weinstein is hanging on you,” Max reminded him. Oleg will pay us a large amount.

“So we only help those who are well off?” I yelled. - Lonely Laura has no chance? I'm taking this case. Who was looking for Fane? Why was the corpse from the construction site identified as Laura?

Max dialed a number and handed me the phone.

- Talk to Vadik, he knows.

- At the Kovalsky apparatus, - the expert minted.

“Yevlampy Romanov is worried,” I answered him in tone.

- Wow! Beloved wife of the chef! Vadik laughed. - Glad to suck up to the boss. What would you like? Take you to the market for potatoes? Dust your computer? Iron the laces?

Do you understand now why I do not want to serve with Max on the staff? It will be difficult for me, Vadik is openly laughing, and the rest will whisper behind my back and, if I successfully cope with the matter, they will say: “Well, of course, she is Max’s wife, he helped her in everything.” If I fail the work with a bang, people will whisper in the corners: “It's clear. The boss married a fool, and we will have to correct her mistakes.

Wherever you throw, everywhere is a wedge. True, until I had time to get to know all the members of the team well. Acting as a secretary, I did not attend meetings, I communicated with colleagues at the level: tea-coffee-Wulf left. Vadik is not just an expert, he is a close friend of Max, they created an agency together. Kowalski often visits us and praises my cooking. I got the impression that he thinks that every woman's place is in the kitchen. From the stove, it should move towards the shops and the bedroom. Kinder, K?che, Kirsche are the three "Ks" of women's fate according to the German version, and Kowalski completely agrees with this.

“I'll handle the Laura Fane case,” I said, “I need her full information. This is Max's order.

“I obey and obey, oh great Lampa ibn Romanov,” Vadim sang, “I tear out my hair and fulfill all your desires.”

“You don’t have a beard,” I picked up the joking dialogue.

“The first piece of advice,” Kowalski declared unexpectedly seriously, “is always

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listen carefully to the interlocutor. Did I mention the beard?

“You promised to pull out your hair,” I said, confused.

“But he didn’t mention where,” Vadim said in the tone of a mentor, “maybe I meant the top of his head?

"Sorry, but you're bald," I couldn't resist.

- What about the legs? - Kowalski did not calm down. - Arms? Breast? I shut up. However, I will give you a second piece of advice. If you don't pay attention to details, you'll never get the job done.

From the hallway a knock was heard at the door, Max hurried there.

“A detective must have a sharp mind, a quick reaction,” Kovalsky itched like an autumn fly, “and he will need ...

- Scent, like a dog, and an eye like an eagle, - I could not stand it, - let's work. I ask questions, you answer. I'm a detective, you're an expert. Did you sort everything out?

The doorbell rang again, but I didn’t even flinch, Max would let the intruder in. Vadim continued mockingly:

- A person who has everything on the shelves is like a closet. Oak wardrobe. Question: Is the wardrobe able to find Laura Fane? Maybe it’s better to be honest with yourself: I don’t have the necessary experience or talents. But I can't argue with Max. If he decides to entertain his wife with an investigation, I listen and obey.

I was overcome with anger. Well, Kowalski, wait! I will not only find the unfortunate Laura, but I will also bring to light all the machinations of Yakov Barinov. Who said that I don't have enough energy for two things?

After forty minutes of talking on the phone with different people, I wanted to drink coffee, and I went to the kitchen, from where a loud tinkling was heard.

There was a hefty saucepan on the stove, covered with a lid, a jet of water beat into the sink, the refrigerator door was open, Max rummaged through the shelves.

Have you decided to take up cooking? I wondered.

– Have you already met? the husband asked from the dining room.

I turned around. Maxim cannot be in two places at the same time, if he is now stirring sugar in tea with a spoon, then who is fumbling in the refrigerator in search of food? At that very moment, the refrigerator door slammed shut and I saw a woman of strong build, about sixty years old.

“This is Roxana,” Max introduced her, “our housekeeper.”

“Better call me Roxy,” the stranger asked embarrassedly.

Do we need a servant? I couldn't help but be surprised. “I'm doing great on my own.

“Roxanne, look around here for now,” Max ordered and dragged me into the office.

For the next ten minutes, I listened to Max's fiery speech on the topic "let's free a woman from kitchen ties, a vacuum cleaner, a broom, a rag, let's make her happy!"

The speech ended with the question:

– Are you unhappy?

– Absolutely! I honestly admitted.

- Why? Explain, - demanded Max.

- I never used someone else's work. I will feel like a slave owner oppressing poor Uncle Tom, I told the truth.

- Nonsense! Max waved it off. - Roxana needs money, she has nowhere to live, and you will be freed from tedious duties.

“I like to cook,” I objected, “I relax by the stove. And I am very pleased to feed my husband.

- Wash, wash the floors and the toilet, iron, what else is there enticing? – began to bend fingers Max. - Stop resisting. I've already hired Roxanne, she's counting on a salary and a roof over her head.

"So she's going to live with us?" I froze.

- The apartment has almost half a kilometer of area, - Max did not see the problem. - Settle in a guest room near the sauna. By the way, while you have to pretend to be Lena Krotova.

“It’s difficult to change your appearance twice a day,” I said, “and in order to find Fein, I need a certificate that I am your employee.

- No problem, - Max nodded, - you will get it right now, I have everything I need at hand, just find your good photo.

- Indicate the name of Evlampy Romanov in crusts, - I asked.

"And how are you going to proceed?" – suddenly became interested in Max.

“Under the circumstances,” I explained, “the ideal scenario is this: in the morning I look for Laura, in the evening I deal with the Weinstein case.

- Yeah, - Max rubbed his hands, - at eight o'clock Lampa flies out of the house on a "bug", then he returns to the apartment, changes into Lena, changes to a foreign car and goes to dig up Barinov's deeds? Remember, you can't change your hair in ten minutes.

“Stupid,” I sighed, “you can do it differently. I'll leave in a pretentious car in the morning, and I'll keep two sets of clothes in the cabin. Easy to change, I'll go from detective to wealthy heiress in seconds.

- I will give you two documents - for Elena Krotova and for Romanova, - Max decided. Yes, greetings from your family. I told them that you went to rest in the Maldives. By the way, everyone is delighted. Katya and Seryozhka, Kiryushka and Lizaveta, Yulechka, Kostin, the pugs, Rachel and Ramik told you to eat mangoes and bathe yourself crazy. Sorry, I called them myself.

“Okay,” I agreed without much joy, “I hope they weren’t offended that I didn’t warn them.

“Not for a second,” Max assured me, “I lied about the burning ticket, as if you had rushed straight from the travel agency to the airport.

- Vadim is aware that I will be busy with the Fein case and have not flown anywhere.

“Kowalski’s grave,” Max declared, “will never open his mouth again.

I glanced at my husband. He idealizes his friend: he likes to talk nasty things.

What about Roxana? She, too, will have to spin about the temporarily absent hostess?

- Damn, - Max was upset, - I agreed with her ten days ago, I wanted to surprise you!

“Everything is fine,” I said, “there is something in the household that I really don’t like to do. I hate ironing! And the vacuum cleaner does not cause tender feelings in me. I will learn how to manage a housekeeper, and I will cook when the desire arises. You are great, thank you. And no difficulties are foreseen with Krotova. Let Roxana think that she is the mistress of the islands, then I will return the hairstyle to its previous form and introduce myself as a Lamp. Any problem can be solved, there would be a desire.

There was a ringing and a scream from the kitchen, Max and I rushed to the sound.

“Sorry,” Roxy murmured, pointing to the pieces in the sink, “I accidentally dropped them!” The cup slipped out of my hand.

I almost cried from annoyance: my aunt broke my favorite cup with a picture of a pug. It was Kiryushkin's gift, where he got it, I don't know, but there is definitely no other like it.

- Nonsense! Max exclaimed. - It's fortunate!

- Yes! Roxy rejoiced. - True omen. I'll take it away now.

She grabbed the largest shard and yelped. Crimson drops splattered on the white porcelain.

- Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Roxana wailed. - Painfully!

- A tiny cut, - I stated, having examined the wound, - it is necessary to treat it with peroxide.

- She pinches! The servant was scared.

“No,” I objected, and went to the first aid kit.

Seeing the vial, Roxy put her hand behind her back.

- I'm not giving it!

- What kind of idiocy? – I was indignant. - How old are you?

“Twenty-five,” Roxy replied flirtatiously, but then she decided to add: “With a little.” Plus a few months.

I poured peroxide on the servant's finger and couldn't resist another question:

- And how many of them, months? Just be honest. It's stupid to lie to people who can easily check your passport.

Roxanne bitten

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- Three hundred sixty.

I dropped the band-aid I was going to cover the cut with.

“Are you twenty-five years and three hundred and sixty months old?” Great!

I could not find what to answer, and decided to turn the conversation into the mainstream of household chores.

We need to buy groceries, wash clothes and cook dinner. If you have time, mop the floor in the hallway.

- Excuse me, how can I contact you? Roxy sat down.

“La…” I started as usual, stopped and continued: “The hostess here is a woman named Lampa Romanova, she is now swimming in the ocean.

- A fisherwoman? – unexpectedly suggested Roxana. - Serves on a trawler?

Max laughed and immediately began to cough, I tried to keep a straight face:

- No, I went to rest.

- Without a husband? the housekeeper was amazed. - It is not right. And who are you?

“Lena, a relative of the Lamp,” I introduced myself.

- A-a-a-a! Roxy drawled.

I took out my wallet and handed the money to the housekeeper.

- Buy some food.

- What exactly? she inquired matter-of-factly.

- Everything you need for dinner, think for yourself, - I asked, - examine the contents of the refrigerator, you will see what is not there, and act.

Roxy drew herself up to attention.

- Yes, - but I was in no hurry to take the money.

I put the bills on the table and went to the door.

“Elena, I don’t know your middle name,” Roxy called to me.

“Let's get by with just Lena,” I said as I walked.

- Can I ask you? Put the money in the other hand.

I turned around.

- Sorry? Didn't understand.

Roxanne lowered the corners of her mouth mournfully.

You were holding banknotes in your right hand.

- Well? I was surprised.

“Take them and give them to me with the left,” Roxy whispered.

- Who cares? I hurried.

- Huge! the servant exclaimed. - If you distribute banknotes right hand, this is to poverty and diseases of the head. An unmistakable sign. Is it hard for you to try again? I don't want to go down with a migraine.

Only the extreme degree of surprise can explain the fact that I obeyed a stupid request.

“Thank you very much,” Roxy bowed.

I grabbed Max's shoulder, led him into the hallway and whispered:

- Where did you dig it up?

- Asya Nifontova recommended, - the husband admitted. - She gave Roxy a wonderful description: honest, like a Buddhist monk, cooks like a chef from a Michelin star restaurant, irons meticulously, cleans with incredible care, modest, not a gossip.

“And she also has the dexterity of an elephant,” I got angry, “she managed to cock my favorite cup.” And it looks like Roxy has a big problem with intelligence. I wonder why Nifontova herself did not want to use the services of a charming servant? For what reason did she turn it over to Mr. Wulf?

“Nifa went to London for a year,” Max explained, “so she shared her super-duper housekeeper with us.

The bell rang again from the kitchen. I quickly grabbed my keys and ran out of the house. In everything bad there is always a considerable share of good. Not so long ago I saw on TV a film about the world famous artist, whom critics and admirers call a genius. The master's paintings are sold at the speed of a popsicle on a hot day. Cloths are very expensive, but the demand for them outstrips supply. So, the painter told from the screen that in his youth he dreamed of becoming professional player baseball, trained hard, got on a good team, and then fell off his motorcycle, broke both legs and was forced to give up the sport forever. The student was on the verge of suicide, he could not even sit up on his own, so he temporarily put aside thoughts of suicide and, in order to take free time, asked the nurse for a book, no matter what. The girl, obviously as smart as Roxana, brought the guy coloring books and a box of colored pencils. How it all ended, you already know. Why don't the baseball player fall off the iron horse? Would he become rich and famous? Most likely, he would have played for ten years in a provincial team, then he would have become addicted to beer, flabby, married and whiled away his days in the company of a grumpy wife and capricious children. Trouble turned to happiness for him.

And what's good about Roxanne's broken dishes? Not so long ago I live with Max, I came to his apartment, already furnished by someone, and so far I am embarrassed to redo it to my liking. I never once asked my husband with whom he shared the living space before I arrived. But, having studied the interior, I believe that none of the representatives of the weaker sex lingered in this room for a long time. Few girls like gray blinds on the windows, brick-like walls, black floors and bent iron furniture. I agree, it is stylish, fashionable, but extremely uncomfortable. I'll suffer for another six months and start repairs.

And the dishes! It was clearly acquired by different people. In one cabinet there is a set of square plates, dark gray, almost flat, in addition to them there are cups without handles and saucers. Get these quite in the spirit of Max. But in a narrow pencil case by the window there are completely different dishes. Salad bowls with flowers, a cake dish decorated with mouse prints, three saucepans painted in Gzhel, a frying pan with a handle in the form of a snake, tiny plates with cartoon characters, thimble cups covered with a pattern of forget-me-nots, and similar “charm”, which, I give a tooth, were bought by tasteless, stupid girls who roamed to visit Max until he became a family man. Throwing away their “souvenirs” means declaring your jealousy. By the way, I don't feel that way, I just don't want to bump into other people's things! And Max, unfortunately, often uses them. I’m just lucky that Roxanne has hooked hands, she will soon kill forget-me-nots, Mickey Mouse and so on, then I’ll calmly buy other dishes and there won’t be any spirit left from the nasty girls in the apartment.

Yuri Balandin, who worked on the Laura Fein case, managed to become a captain over the past three years and sat in a tiny closet, barely five square meters in area, a table, a safe and two chairs were squeezed in with difficulty. But any employee "from the ground" will tell you that a separate office is nowhere cooler. Either Captain Balandin was a very valuable personnel for the authorities, or he had an extremely quarrelsome character and his colleagues expelled him from the common room. However, the first assumption does not exclude the second.

- Dinner! Yuri trumpeted gloomily as soon as I looked into the office.

“Let me…” I began.

“Eat to your health,” I said quickly, “I’ll wait in the corridor.”

The chairs crowded along the wall seemed too dirty to me, I disdained to sit down. The windows were not only barred, but also sealed with paper strips, the window did not want to open, from the toilet located nearby there was no smell of incense. I began to choke and called Max.

A second later, Yuri, chewing his noodles on the go, jumped out of the office:

Are you Lena? Why didn't they say it right away? Come in, settle down. Would you like a snack? Tea?

“Thanks, I’d better ask you questions right away,” I smiled.

“I am ready to answer everything,” Balandin promised.

– Why did you identify the corpse as Laura

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Fane? I started.

The captain rubbed his face with his hand.

“They've brought in a missing persons report for Fein. And in the morgue lay the body of a woman. The expert determined her approximate age, I look, it coincided. Laura lived in our area, the corpse was also found on the territory under its jurisdiction, at a construction site, lying openly, they did not even try to hide it. A colleague from work identified her clothes, bag. In the trunk they found documents in the name of Fein, the keys to her apartment, a mobile phone, what else do you need?

Did you take fingerprints? I asked.

“Nope,” Yuri admitted reluctantly, “the hands of the corpse were cut off.

Did you do a dental exam? I didn't calm down.

“The head was missing,” Balandin sighed sadly, “it was never found, it disappeared along with the hands.”

“And didn’t it seem strange to you that the body is devoid of parts that can be easily identified?” – I was indignant. – By the way, where does Fane's fingerprinting come from in the database of the Ministry of Internal Affairs? Was she in the field of view of the police?

“Five years before the abduction, Laura was filed with,” Yury explained, “the neighbor complained that Fein allegedly entered her apartment and stole a large amount of money. There were “fingers” left on the home safe. Everything spoke against Fein, she had the keys to someone else's hut. She was detained, fingerprints were taken - oops, by! Well, they let me go with an apology. The thief was never found.

- Okay, back to the head and hands. How was Laura identified? I asked gloomily.

- So I already said, - Balandin chuckled, - her colleague came. Dress, bag.

- Didn't you get the feeling that someone was diligently confusing the tracks? Holding back my anger, I continued.

- Why? Yuri asked lazily.

“So that you think Fein is dead and stop looking,” I hissed.

“You know, they wouldn’t really worry about her anyway,” Yuriy frequented, “lonely, no children, no husband, at work she was considered a cuckoo. They said that she adored loneliness, left with her easel to hell knows where, disappeared for a week.

Did Fein like to draw? I clarified.

Yura nodded.

- The company "Portrait", where Laura worked, hires artists. The customer brings a photo, his or someone else's, on the drum, and in the office a picture is selected for him. Well, let's say some kind of Venus. They copy the canvas, and instead of the head they draw the face of the client. Stebno?

“You can do with Photoshop, why hire a painter for such a “creative” work,” I objected.

Balandin made a strange sound, like a grunt.

“The rich want to get an oil painting to really have it. They have such habits. Laura in "Portrait" was considered the most, like, a good artist. But absurd. They all told me the same thing: talented, but with greetings. Touchy hurt, rude constantly. I have not been able to determine the day she disappeared. Here, admire, I've prepared everything here.

Groaning, Balandin bent down, picked up a pile of folders from the floor, and slapped them on a table littered with pencils, pens, paper clips, and other little things.

“Read with pleasure,” he said, “there’s not enough room here, I’ll talk on the phone for now.”

Some believe that on the other end of the wire they will better absorb the information if they yell at the top of their voices. Yuri was one of those, he loudly found out the details about the stolen fur coat.

- Che? From whom dokha? Kitty? You mean cat? In FIG gundezh raise! Let him catch cats in the yard and sew himself a new coat. What? Is the cat another animal? Maritime? More importantly, are you lying?

I leafed silently through the dust-smelling pages, looked at the photos and tried not to pay attention to Balandin's cries. Yuri continued to torment the phone. After finding out the origin of the missing fur coat, he began to convince the victim to withdraw the application.

“Citizen girl,” the policeman yelled, “look, what a heat! The asphalt is melting! Well, who walks in fur in summer weather. Well, yes, winter will come, then your fur coat will go out of fashion. Fuck you, abyss! Citizen Olesya Kovalchuk, talk without nerves! You hung up a rag, that is, a fur coat, to air in the yard, it’s your own fault, to seduce people for the hell of it? It's like leaving money unattended. What does it mean to steal badly? No, it's certainly not good, but ... Fuu!

Yura grabbed a newspaper from the table, waved it in front of his nose, then threw it away. The sheet was planned directly on the folder, the contents of which I was just studying. My eyes rested on a crossword puzzle, the words in it were transported, and in a second I understood why. Balandin quickly figured out the definition: "A person who works hard for another for meager food." If we consider that the answer should have fit in five cells, then the word “servant” suggests itself. But Yuri wrote "husband". Then I realized that there was an extra letter in it, and crossed it out. Obviously, Balandin has a stern wife with the manners of an army sergeant.

“Some women are worse than a trolley bus,” Yuri was indignant, “rushing forward, not a damn thing around!” The fur coat is the most important thing for them! Find a rip! At least die, but find it!

- See the photo? I stopped the flow of complaints. - The staff who examined Fein's apartment, well done, carefully filmed even the food in the refrigerator.

- What is there to admire? Balandin did not understand. - Mutota on the shelves. Clearly, she didn't have a man. No pots of soup, no pans of buckwheat, no meatballs. Yogurt and an apple, you won’t get enough of them.

Do you see the bottle? I pointed at the picture.

- Some kind of dirty trick, - Balandin shuddered, - kefir.

“Organic curdled milk,” I read the label, “this product is made without preservatives and dyes, from the milk of a cow that ate clean feed, drank spring water and was not nervous over trifles.

“Deceit,” Yura declared categorically. “It was done in France, if only to fool the people with theirs, they poured an ordinary canoe into a flask, put a beautiful sticker on it, and put it in the cash register.

“Organic products are expensive,” I stopped Balandina, “three years ago they were supplied to Russia in small quantities, mostly only in very expensive supermarkets. And for natural food, shelf life is very important. Understand?

- And what? Yura blinked. - No one wants to eat something that has gone rotten.

I pointed to the photo again.

- Read attentively. “Produced on the tenth of July. Consume until the twelfth zero of the seventh. The product can stand in the cold for only a couple of days. What are your conclusions?

Yuri poked his little finger in his ear:

- Well ... like ... I wanted to live forever, I spent money on an expensive meal. It's stupid, it's better to save money and give it away for a good car.

Balandin's frank stupidity began to irritate me.

- Yes, Fein took care of herself, I wouldn’t be surprised if she attended fitness and poured herself with ice water from a bucket. But don't you think the date on the package gives you an approximate time when Laura went missing?

- What is it like? Yuri frowned.

“The curdled milk was released on the tenth,” I began to enlighten the stupid cop, “on the twelfth, Fein would not have bought it and would not have started drinking it after the statute of limitations had expired. Therefore, Laura disappeared on the eleventh of July.

- Where did you get it? Yura was surprised.

I patted the folders.

- There is an interrogation of Natalya Livanova. She identified the body, identified herself as Fane's friend, and was not afraid to go to the morgue. Livanova said that the last time she saw Laura was on the tenth of July, she came to the Portrait for a new order, talked with the client, discussed the plot of the picture with him, and left around noon. So Laura went to the supermarket, brought the curdled milk home, but did not eat it, and on the twelfth it was already in

Page 16 of 19

there was no apartment. Otherwise, the curdled milk would have been eaten or thrown away. Given its price, the second option is unlikely. Everything is extremely simple.

- The woman could have been grabbed in the evening, in the parking lot near the store, - Yuri put forward a counter version, - it turns out logically. Fein came out of the supermarket and ran into the killer.

“Excellent assumption,” I praised Balandin, “that’s exactly what happened.” Laura was stuffed into the car and taken away, and the yogurt made its way to her refrigerator and stood on the shelf.

Yuri blinked.

“On the tenth, Fein returned to the apartment, and on the eleventh she did not eat the product, which means she was kidnapped on the eleventh,” I continued, “or at night. If we can figure out where and with whom Laura spent the night from July 10th to 11th, we can track down the kidnapper. May I photocopy some papers?

Yuri reluctantly went out into the corridor, returned five minutes later and threw the sheets on the table:

- Take it.

I scooped the booty into my bag:

- Thanks.

- Pokedova, - Yuri nodded and began to write something on a piece of paper.

- Are not you ashamed? I couldn't help it and coughed violently.

- What did I do? Balandin exclaimed with childlike surprise.

I burst out:

- Worked on the case carelessly, did not conduct a thorough identification of the corpse.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Yuri muttered, “just think about it!” Nonsense! The dead man does not care under whose name he goes to the crematorium.

I tried to awaken the captain's sleeping conscience:

- Did you think about the relatives of the murdered? People have been looking for a mother, wife, sister for three years!

“Fain was lonely,” Balandin reminded her.

I mentally counted to five and took a deep breath.

It's not about Laura. I'm talking about that unfortunate woman who was found without a head and hands. If she's not Fane, then who is? Why would the kidnapper undress Laura and pull her clothes over the corpse?

“I wanted the dead woman to be mistaken for Fane, they’ve already chewed it a hundred times,” the captain replied arrogantly.

“But then it turns out that the criminal is also guilty of the death of the nameless woman. Who is she? I asked, looking straight at Yuri. - Two bodies - almost a series.

- Who knows, the case is closed, - Balandin fought back, - if you want to mess with him - go ahead, I won’t interfere. Looks like you're bored at the agency, since this nonsense is taken up. And I have business on the top. Citizens of the application are scribbling, deal with these nonsense, find fur coats for them, bed linen, stale from a rope.

I grabbed my bag, took a step towards the door, but could not restrain myself:

You chose the wrong profession. Even the most hardened cop still wants to help people.

- For such a salary, there are no desires other than to get drunk, - Balandin got angry, - what stuck? The authorities ordered you to familiarize yourself with the Fein case. Che, did I refuse? Did not help? Do not load my soul with psychology! I will zatretiru whom you want.

“Goodbye, Yura,” I said sadly, “I hope you find yourself a good job with a decent salary and leave the police.

- Thank you for the good wishes, - Yuriy smiled, - you know, I've already poked in a couple of places, but they don't take something. And why am I not suitable for people?

“For starters, don’t use the word “theirs,” I advised.

- And how to speak? Yura was surprised.

"Just 'them', short and clear," I said, walking out into the corridor.

In the three years that have passed since the disappearance of Laura Fein, the Portrait company could change its address or go bankrupt, but no, the office was in the old place, and Natalya Livanova was still sitting at the reception desk.

– Laura Fane? she was amazed. “She has been dead for a long time. Why is she suddenly interested in you?

“New circumstances have opened up,” I tried to avoid a direct answer. Did you identify the body?

Natalia twitched.

– Aha! Horror! They didn’t let me look at her face, the corpse was covered up to the shoulders with a film, her hands were wrapped in bags for some reason.

How did you manage to get to know your friend? I did wonder.

- Lorkino's dress was, beloved, dark blue, a bag on a chain, - Natalya methodically listed, - inside the passport lay, mobile, house keys.

Have you carefully examined the remains? I didn't calm down.

- I was very scared, - Natasha sobbed, - my legs were shaking, then I was thrown into a chill, then into a fever. Well, why did they bring me to the morgue, if they found Lorca with documents? It smelled disgusting!

Did Fane have any other friends? I decided to change the subject. Or were you her only friend?

Natasha lay down with her chest on the counter:

- Lorca was strange, she didn’t know how to control her mood, she was having fun, she was crying. She made good portraits, her clients were torn to pieces, although no one managed to force Fein to write something that did not meet her principles. Other artists imitate the taste of the customer, and rightly so. A person pays a lot of money, wants to get the desired result, and we need to meet him halfway. But Lorca resisted, tried to educate clients. Look, I'll show you now.

Livanova turned her laptop towards me. A photograph appeared on the screen of a thick-cheeked, red-nosed peasant with small eyes, a short neck, and a thin-lipped mouth.

“Handsome,” Natasha giggled, “Lorca’s last customer, the king of canned fish, Alexander Mikhailov, does he really have a poetic appearance?” So he wanted to decorate the family castle with his worthy portrait. I chose the famous painting by Titian "Venus and Adonis". You understand, he wanted to become Adonis. But Laura categorically refused to portray the owner of the cannery in the form of a quivering young man. She chose this job.

Natasha's fingers deftly ran over the keys, a new photo appeared.

“Henry the Fourth, King of France,” I exclaimed, “not to be confused with Henry the Fourth, King of England from the Lancaster dynasty. We must pay tribute to Fane, she hit the mark. In the image of a hedonistic king who adored delicious food, good booze, a connoisseur of hunting and balls, Mikhailov would have looked very organic.

Livanova smiled.

- Laura persuaded him, went to the scandal, said to his face: "Adonis from you is like a broom from me." Well, in the end, Alexander gave in, however, he warned: “If my wife does not approve, I won’t pay you a penny!”

Fein did her best, Mikhailov's wife was delighted, Lorca got a good tip. It would be nice if she only risked her order, but no, she climbed to others, criticized the choice of paintings, she could say out loud in front of outsiders: “The customer does not understand anything in painting and does not see himself from the outside, he believes that he is a king. But the artist is ashamed to demonstrate bad taste. Well, which of this fat aunt is "Nude Maha"? Francisco Goya would have strangled himself to see whose head was attached to the body of the Duchess of Alba. Do not disturb the peace of the great Spaniard, he will turn over in his grave. This customer is better placed in the picture of Kustodiev or Rubens, so they loved fleshy ladies.

“Pretty rude,” I said.

“Lorca was so perpendicular,” Natasha said, “you know, few people wanted to communicate with her. No one likes to be the object of a tough

Page 17 of 19

criticism, and even publicly.

“It is strange that Fein was not fired,” I continued provocatively, “they prefer to get rid of such colleagues.

Livanova returned the laptop to its place.

- Artists are not engineers, they work at home, they come here to meet with clients. They don't interact with each other every day. Lorca was considered an unpleasant person, but you rarely saw her. And as a worker, she was beautiful, customers went to her in a herd.

“So Fein was only friends with you,” I stressed.

“I am not a painter,” Livanova smiled. – Tea, coffee, biscuits are my business. Lorca had nothing to share with me. And it is difficult to call our relationship friendship, just friendship. Now I will tell you one story, you will understand what a strange person she was. Once, Fein invited me and my husband to a restaurant for her birthday, handed us pompous invitations. Glossy paper, gold letters, at the bottom of the postscript - "dress code: evening dresses for ladies, tuxedo for men."

Natasha decided that Fein was throwing a chic holiday, and did not want to lose face. Livanova did not have the necessary outfit, Natasha borrowed a dress from a friend, but Kostya had to rent a tuxedo. A considerable price was charged for an evening suit, and Livanova, not very rich, decided to save a little.

“I’ll buy a cup of three hundred rubles as a gift for Laura,” she shared her plans with her husband, “I’ll ask her to beautifully pack it in golden paper with bows and hand it over with a smile.” “It’s inconvenient,” Kostya hesitated, “after all, a person has a birthday. Let's buy some perfume." But economic Natasha put up fierce resistance: “We are tight with money, we had to pay a lot for a tuxedo.” “I would have put on my suit,” Konstantin shook his head, “I would have done with a white shirt.” - "Well, I do not! - cut off the wife. - Judging by the invitation, there will be a hundred people, all overdressed, and you and I are like orphans? And the dress code is clearly stated. Why write "tuxedo"? So that they don’t show up in jackets, since the birthday girl wants to create a particularly solemn atmosphere. - “In my opinion, a good present is better,” Kostya blew in one tune. “Otherwise, you will be ashamed of yourself!”

Natasha put her finger to her lips. “Shh. Do you know how people act? Doesn't include a business card. They will bring a truckload of gifts for her, most of them unmarked, she won’t understand who the cup is from.

On the appointed day and hour, Natasha and Kostya entered a cafe with the strange name Lapa and began to look around in surprise.

They found themselves in a tiny room with three tables covered with white and red tablecloths. Laura sat in the corner and looked casual, wearing jeans and a gray pullover. The only waitress, a plump blond woman in her forties, widened her eyes at the sight of the dressed-up couple.

"Where are the guests?" Natasha squeezed out, feeling very strange. “I only called you,” Fane explained, “I didn’t make any other friends. Take a seat, this is a great pizza." - "Pizza! Livanova jumped up. “Then why did they need special outfits from us if the holiday is in a diner?” “It's delicious here,” Laura shrugged, “and about the dress code, it's a joke,” I joked. I thought you would understand." Natasha flopped down on a chair, and Kostya, amazed no less than his wife, handed Fane a bag. Laura immediately tore off the packaging and did not hide her disappointment: “A mug! Did you buy on the market? Terrible design thing!”

Livanova looked at me:

- It turned out beautifully! We are fools on all sides!

- Laura did not have a gentleman? I clarified.

Natasha grimaced.

I took a photo out of my bag.

- I wonder why? Fein is a pretty brown-haired woman with expressive brown eyes and a large mouth. Judging by the picture, she had a beautiful figure. Probably Laura was on a diet and went to the gym.

- She ate only the most delicious and expensive, - Livanova said angrily, - and did not know where the gym was. She was lucky with her genetics. So I constantly limit myself in everything and crawl away. Lorca didn't want a long-term relationship, you know, she must have been a lesbian! She avoided men.

– Can you name her heart friend? I asked matter-of-factly.

“I never met her,” Natasha grimaced, “but why are you asking? It's a pity for Lorca, but she was killed.

“Looks like not,” I replied.

Livanova's face was drawn:

- How not? What's wrong? I saw a corpse.

“Without a head and hands?” A body in a Fane dress? Do you know her handwriting? - I settled on Natalia. “Maybe Laura’s receipts have survived?” Or greeting card from her?

“They haven’t kept such nonsense for three years,” Natasha answered in a trembling voice, “Fane’s handwriting was neat, each letter was written separately, the “r” has a high stick, and the “t” has a curlicue. She signed as a child, she simply put her first and last name, in full. Yes! She had one peculiarity, I asked her in the statements not to do this, but will she listen to me. In the column "received" she indicated so.

Natasha grabbed the sheet and carefully reproduced “Laura. Fane.

- I put a dot after the name, said: “This is my hallmark, do not pester. Well, to hell with it, with financial statements, I don’t care, as is customary, I write as I want.

I took out my mobile, which contained a photograph of the note, and placed it in front of Livanova.

– Read.

The interlocutor began to bite her lips, then rubbed her cheeks and croaked:

- Was she kidnapped?

- Probably. Do you recognize the handwriting? I insisted.

“Well, maybe her,” Livanova whispered. Where is Lorca?

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted.

Livanova breathed noisily:

Do you want the truth?

“Of course,” I confirmed, “everything you know. This will help save her.

Natasha crossed her arms over her chest.

Laura lived with a woman and often complained about her partner. The one in their pair played the role of a man, you know?

I nodded, Livanova cheered up:

- A rude aunt, vulgar, but go ahead, Laura liked it. She often walked in bruises, her partner beat her, she was terribly jealous. She's probably locked up and holding it now.

Why didn't you report Fein's sexual orientation three years ago? I scolded Natasha.

“No one asked,” the interlocutor admitted after a short pause, “and they showed me the corpse. Why was it about other people's secrets to be frank. You are not looking for a man! Laura hated them! Didn't deal with any of them.

“Tell me the name of her mistress,” I asked.

- I do not know! By God! She didn’t call him,” Natasha began to frequent, “believe me! I never lie! Fein and the man? Ha! Follow the wrong trail! Sorry, I'll be right back.

Covering her mouth with her hand, Natasha rushed into the depths of the office. I opened my purse, took out a tiny black navel from it, took the phone that was lying on the table, quickly dismantled the receiver, put the “bug” inside and waited for Livanova to return from the toilet. It's hard to leave without saying goodbye.

This July pleased sunny weather. I went outside and gently stuck the tiny receiving device into my left ear. Max is well done, spares no money for technical equipment. Let's hope I didn't waste my "spy". Natasha now must certainly connect with the very man whom she stubbornly defended, inventing a fairy tale about an evil jealous lesbian. Why did I decide that Livanova was lying? Too zealously she repeated about her honesty and repeated: "Fein had no business with men."

Page 18 of 19

squeaked, I pressed my back against the wall of the house. This "bug" has one drawback: its range is small. You should not think that Max is acquiring low-power equipment, the agency has a whole minivan at its disposal, sitting in which, a couple of blocks from the object, you can clearly hear what and with whom he coos. But I have a simple, so to speak, one-time option with me, so you can’t go far from the office of the Portrait company.

“Hello,” said the beautifully colored tenor.

- Sun! Have you again heard enough gossip that evil people come up with about your husband?

- I love you too.

Laura Fane is alive. Hey, don't be silent! Where's she? Do you visit her?

“Well… it’s impossible… you know.

- She wrote a letter.

- That! Note! "I've been kidnapped, help."

- Dude, calm down. Where does this information come from?

- Bastard! I believed you! Proud! Loved!

She died, you saw the body.

– Aha! Without a head and hands.

“That’s right, I didn’t want her to be identified!” Zaya, take some valerian. Who told you this?

- They came from the police.

- It's impossible. The case was closed.

- So they opened it.

Kostya laughed:

- Never. Fein was buried, everyone forgot about her. Someone decided to play a prank on you.

- How should I know? Some idiot.

- Idiot! yelled Natasha. - One of your grandmothers!

- Honey, don't start.

Natasha sobbed.

“Kitten, I love only you,” Konstantin purred, “well, how jealous we are!” Tigress.

“Listen,” Natasha suddenly calmed down, “if your next, stupid, terrible, idiotic passion decided to scare me, then ...

- Honey, take a sip of the motherwort.

- ... then she knows about you and Laura, - completed Natasha, - you understand?

- You're not imagining? Konstantin asked anxiously.

- Am I stupid? - Wife got angry.

“No, but maybe you decided to cheer me up a little,” said the husband. “Okay, this is not a telephone conversation. When will you come home?

“I’ll close the office at eight,” Livanova sobbed, “I’ll show up at nine. Meet me at the subway.

- Which one? - said the husband. - At "Bagrationovskaya"?

“No, it’s better on the Fili,” Natasha asked.

- From "Bagrationovskaya" to us closer, - argued Kostya.

“Not much,” Livanova whimpered, “I wanted to go to the Orange Pig.” Let's have dinner there?

- Of course, my dear, - the husband turned on the "charm", - I will fulfill your every whim. "Orange Pig" a good choice. So, at nine at Fili? Don't worry, it's some kind of nonsense. Now you can buy any cop for a hundred bucks. You've been played.

“I would like your nerves,” Natasha drawled, “thick-skinned hippopotamus.”

“I love you, zaya,” Kostya hastened to assure.

“And I love you,” Natasha answered after a short pause, “tell me, did she really die?”

“It couldn’t be more truthful,” Konstantin assured, “I will certainly find that bastard that scared you today.” Guess what I'll do with her? You know how I deal with my wife's offenders! BUT?

“Yes,” the wife answered in a barely audible voice and disconnected.

I took out the earpiece, carefully coiled the wire leading to the recorder, and dialed a well-known number.

"Mavrikova is listening," came a ringing voice from the receiver.

“Good afternoon, Rita, this is the Romanov Lamp,” I introduced myself.

- O! Hello, - the friend was delighted. - Where are you?

- I'm going to the car. Help me please.

Margaret sneezed with taste.

- Allergies raged? I suggested. “The doctor told you to part with the cat!” But something tells me: Muska is still sleeping with the mistress.

Ritusya blew her nose deafeningly.

The doctor is a cretin. I have a migraine every weekend from Nikitin's tricks. What now, to hand over my son to the orphanage? Muska is like a daughter to me, I fed her from a pipette from a week old. Nothing, I'll drink syrup, pills, maybe it will pass. Could you get rid of pugs because of scrofula?

“My dogs stayed with Katyusha and the rest of the family,” I said sadly, “I miss them very much. I wanted to take someone with me to Max, Kapa, Fenya or Mulya with Ada, but I realized: you can’t destroy the flock. Dogs are better in Mopsin, in the fresh air.

“Buy yourself others,” Mavrikova advised.

I just sighed. Max has never had pets at home, I don’t know how he will react to a puppy, we haven’t talked about this topic yet.

- Well, what do you need? Rita got down to business.

“We need full information on Natalya Livanova, an employee of the Portrait company, and her husband Konstantin,” I asked.

- Term? – said Margaret.

“Yesterday,” I said.

Mavrikova rustled papers:

- So, as usual.

- Do me a favor. Will you be able to dig up something before nine in the evening? I have a meeting with them at twenty-one zero-zero,” I said.

“I’ll let you know what I dig up,” Rita promised.

I put my cell phone in my purse, got into my car, drove a few blocks, remembered I had no cash, and pulled over at the ATM.

I am surprised by people who literally "hang on someone else's back" when a stranger wants to get money from a street ATM. Is it really incomprehensible that few people will dial a pin code under the curious gaze of a poorly educated citizen breathing down the back of his head. Therefore, I tried to stand at a considerable distance from the child and the man who shoved a credit card into the receiver.

“Dad,” the baby spoke loudly, “dad!”

"Shut up," said the father without malice.

But the boy continued:

- Grandmother said that in her youth there was oil on the cards! She must have figured it out.

“She always tells the truth,” the man said.

“Butter on the cards,” repeated the seven-year-old thoughtfully, “butter or olive?”

“Well, few people in Russia knew about olive oil at that time,” my father laughed, “and Vologda was a rarity. Even in perestroika, sugar, vodka, and washing powder were not so easily sold in the store in our country. I remember very well how I brought home three-liter cylinders of tomato juice, I received them on the card instead of refined sugar. Be thankful you didn't live then.

- Butter is sold in packs, - the kid drawled, - sugar in bags. I understand how they put them in the ATM, through the back door. They opened it, put the food in, people came up, inserted the card, and they were given food. Even conveniently without money. But big cans of juice? Oh, there aren't enough of them! And where did they come from?

I laughed, the baby blinked, the father walked away from the ATM, hiding the bills in his wallet as he went.

“Generation next,” he told me, “cards for them are credit cards. Come on, son, let's buy you a video game.

The boy grabbed his father's hand, I typed the code on the keyboard. It's good that today's children do not know about food stamps, clothing sales and miles of queues for any product.

Have any of you tried changing your skinny jeans in the car? Not too comfortable even for a woman weighing forty-five kilograms. I spent much more time on this than I planned, broke one fingernail and got tangled in extensions, but in the end I overcame all difficulties and got behind the wheel in the form of a rich, flighty widow. I hope that Vladimir Petrovich Koloskov will immediately offer Elena Krotova a full range of expensive medical procedures.

The Rial Medical Center looked much simpler than Barinov's clinic. The floors here were covered not with marble, but with practical linoleum,

Page 19 of 19

and shoe covers were not lying freely in the basket, they had to be bought from the watchman.

I put blue bags on my feet, found Koloskov's office and, without knocking, unceremoniously opened the door. I saw a little bald man in a white coat and asked capriciously:

- Vladimir Petrovich I am Elena Krotova, from Alina.

- Excellent, - the doctor was delighted, - let's sit in a corner, we'll talk a bit. What we have? What are we sick of? Here's a comfortable chair, I'll sit next to you. Well, honey, let's get started.

The doctor smelled strongly of mint gum. The whites of his eyes were red, and the tip of his nose was burgundy. I sang the same song about insomnia, lack of appetite, headache and did not fail to complain about Yakov.

- Barinov called me healthy! Can you imagine?

“Ham,” said Koloskov, “you are sick, you can see right away. The skin is pale, clammy, the heart is weak, the thyroid function is reduced.

- How great you make a diagnosis, - I gasped, - without research!

- Why waste time in vain on something that is already clear, - Vladimir drew himself up, - I will certainly cure you.

I did not like the agility of the doctor. Kolosov was supposed to first find a terrible, rare illness in the patient, drag me around the offices for a couple of days, and announce my imminent death. And then Igor Rodionov will appear. But something in the scheme broke down: they intend to treat me differently than with the bride of Oleg Vainshtein.

- Shall we answer some questions? Vladimir Petrovich asked excitedly. - You are married?

“Widow,” I sobbed.

- Sorry. Have you lost your spouse?

“A year has passed,” I whispered.

Are you going to get married again? Vladimir Petrovich broke into a smile.

“No,” I snapped.

- And why?

"I don't want to," I shrugged.

Didn't meet a worthy candidate? - Koloskov went ahead. How do you see your prospective spouse?

I pursed my lips.

- In theory?

“Yes, in fantasy style,” agreed the doctor.

“Height is about ninety meters, slender, with a sense of humor,” I described Max, “dark hair, light eyes. The financial situation does not matter, my money will be enough for my husband, children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

I was concerned:

- How?

“Here’s the apparatus, let’s stick a finger in there,” Koloskov asked playfully.

- Is there a needle? I flirted, examining a thing that looked a lot like a soap dish.

- Not the slightest pain, - assured Vladimir, - my know-how. Libido meter. Well, sir! The computer will give you the answer. O! In fact, the other person is perfect for you. Height up to seventy meters, average build, no curls.

- You mean bald? I asked tactlessly, looking sideways at the top of the doctor's head, polished to a shine.

- The absence of hair indicates an increased content of testosterone! exclaimed Koloskov. – What does this mean? A bald lion in bed, a tiger, a cheetah!

- Runs fast? I pretended to be an idiot.

- Tireless in sex! Vladimir announced. “Seven, eight, ten times a night is not the limit for him. And in the morning he will be in full combat readiness, and in the afternoon! Always on horseback!

- Horrible! I got scared. “He won’t leave me alone for a minute, won’t let me sleep!” You can't drink coffee in peace. I don't need a sexy monster.

- All right, he'll rebuild, - Vladimir nodded, - if you don't want, don't. Lenochka, can we get to know each other better? Shall we go to a restaurant? Movie? The circus? Conservatory? Do you love the piano? flute? Pipe? Violin?

An important thought popped into my mind. Violin! Why am I doing a stand now?

“All diseases come from the lack of sex,” Koloskov sang in the meantime, “you will have insomnia!” Promise.

Will you send me for an examination? “I tried to get him on the right track. - Analyzes, tomography and so on?

“Well, fuck him,” Koloskov jumped up, “you are my dream!” As soon as I saw you, I immediately realized that SHE came! Let's go visit you right now, would you like to?

I blinked, and Koloskov fell into a rage, now he spoke with the speed of a woodpecker, knocking out a fraction on a birch.

- As soon as Alina told about you, I immediately fell in love. Ready to follow you everywhere, carry on your arms! Sex eight times a day! I am very active. Extremely. You will come alive! All diseases will pass! As a doctor I say.

I, realizing that I had gone on the wrong track, silently listened to the doctor. I don’t know who the bald macho is to the nurse from Barinov’s clinic, but Alina decided to introduce him to the eccentric rich widow. Vladimir Petrovich is not a swindler, he just wants to settle down next to a wealthy woman. Of course, it’s ugly to solve your financial problems at the expense of another person, Koloskov is just a gigolo, but he is not going to spin a rich patient for expensive treatment, he wants to have an affair with her. Well, let's ask the assertive uncle a test question.

- Learn more? What are you implying? - I was outraged. “I won’t date a man unless he has serious intentions.”

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Notes

The history of the acquaintance of Lampa and Max is described in the book by Daria Dontsova "The Emperor of the Village of Gadyukino", how the relationship of the couple developed further is described in the novel "Butterfly in Plaster", Eksmo Publishing House.

Read about how Lampa met the Romanov family in Daria Dontsova's book Manicure for the Dead, published by Eksmo.

Shkonki - bed (criminal slang).

Stolypin - a wagon for transporting prisoners, named after the Prime Minister of the tsarist government P. Stolypin, who proposed transporting criminals to the place of serving their sentences by rail. For that time, a merciful decision, since before its adoption, the prisoners went to hard labor on foot through all of Russia.

Children, kitchen, church - translated from German.

The lamp recalls Harriette Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin, which was extremely popular with Soviet children.

The land is the district police station.

Francisco Goya (1746-1828) - Spanish painter, author of many canvases, in particular "Nude Maha". The model for the canvas was the Duchess of Alba, with whom the artist had an intimate relationship. Both Alba and Goya risked their lives, in Spain of those years it was forbidden to paint pictures from the nude. The Duke of Alba could order the murder of an unfaithful wife and a painter.

End of introductory segment.

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Darya Dontsova

Nightlife of my mother-in-law

The richer the patient, the wider the possibilities of modern medicine.

“If you use this device once a week, you can avoid plastic surgery,” an ingratiating voice sounded next to me.

“Thanks,” I said without taking my eyes off the glossy magazine, “while I'm not thinking about a facelift.

- But in vain! – murmured the interlocutor.

I put down the weekly:

- Your statement gives rudeness!

- Opportunities for what? - I did not understand.

The stranger with a joyful smile took out a small dark blue box from a plump bag:

I suddenly became interested:

- No, I didn't appreciate it. Can you explain please.

The salesman began to bend his fingers:

How much is your equalizer? I don't understand why I asked.

“Fifteen thousand greens!” - the "businessman" proudly declared.

- Wow! I jumped. - You can buy a car.

- I told you the total price, - the tempter reversed, - do not forget about the discount. Ten percent from the manufacturer.

“Thanks, that’s great, but I don’t need him,” I said politely.

“Another twenty percent from the warehouse of finished goods,” the peddler tempted me, “and fifteen from me personally.

“You'd better look for another buyer,” I didn't flinch.

- Fifty thousand rubles? Will it go? the merchant inquired matter-of-factly.

The price was melting like an icicle in boiling water, but I had absolutely no interest in a skin tightener, so I got off with a brief:

- Twenty-five, - the seller cut off half the amount in a swoop.

I didn't hesitate.

“Be reasonable,” the man urged, “can’t you afford such pennies?”

- Do I look like the wife of an oligarch?

I took another look at the packaging.

The Chinese are also exceptionally industrious and careful. Why did the Germans decorate the box with hieroglyphs? Why didn't they make inscriptions in their native language?

The man was confused, and I continued:

You messed up the doors. The entrance to the clinic "American-Vietnamese doctors" from the courtyard, and you entered through the main entrance and are in a private detective agency.

“Damn,” the interlocutor jumped up. - Just a waste of time!

Forgetting sugar-caramel courtesy at once, the poor fellow stuffed Phoebo into a sports bag and ran away to where people hang out, calmly unfastening millions for medical care.

“Lamp, come in,” came the intercom.

I got up, straightened my overly tight skirt, and headed to my office. Be careful with representatives of private medicine, do not come to the doctor in expensive jewelry, do not throw the keys to your Mercedes on his table, do not pour perfume at a price of a thousand rubles per drop, otherwise you risk learning about a huge number of diseases that can be treated you will have to work long and hard, using the most modern technology. However, you should not dress up and if you are planning to just remove the wart. There is one cosmetology clinic in Moscow, in which the price of services depends on the brand and novelty of the patient's car. And please do not purchase any rejuvenator-rectifier-smootheners for the face and body. At best, you will pay a lot of money for junk, at worst, you will get an electric shock or a burn.

“Lamp,” repeated the selector, “where are you?”

I opened the door of my husband's office and, pretending to be a trained employee, answered:

- I'm listening.

I will not torment you with a story about how I became Max's wife. I can only say that at first I categorically did not like the guy, and then everything turned out somehow strangely and, to everyone's surprise, a marriage stamp appeared in my passport.

Until today, I have not got a job anywhere, although everyone undertook to help me: Katya, and Seryozhka, and Yulechka, and Volodya Kostin, and Kiryusha and Lizaveta. Sometimes, when I visit my relatives and go for a walk with pugs, a staffy and a yard terrier, it seems to me that Rachel, Ramik, Mulya, Fenya, Kapa and Ada do not just bark with their own kind on the street. They seem to be asking in a businesslike way: “Hey, guys, don’t your owners need an honest woman who knows how to think logically, is pretty, healthy, cheerful, hardworking, not capricious and does not pretend to be an exorbitant salary? Without career ambitions, a simple workhorse! If yes, then she is standing with leashes at the gate.

Alas, I, like most people, are greedy for flattery, so now I’m running in an uncomfortable skirt and stilettos to the “boss”.

“Come in,” Max nodded.

I looked around the empty office.

- What do you want?

- Grandma is in the second negotiation room. Talk to her.

I furrowed my eyebrows.

I'm not a detective, I'm a secretary.

Husband got up

“I remember that very well and I’m not going to involve you in the investigation. But the aunt is extremely stubborn and is not going to leave without a scandal. Try to calm her down.

I wasn't overjoyed. Max instantly figured out my emotions and explained:

- Sometimes Nina has to play the role of an intelligent bouncer.

- Push out annoying visitors, quoting Pushkin? I giggled. - Explain what an intelligent bouncer is?

Max glanced at his watch.

“They are waiting for me in the conference room in five minutes. Oleg Weinstein will come there, have you heard about this?

I nodded.

- Rich man.

“Mr. exorbitant money,” Max clarified, “he is contacting us for the third time. Can he refuse?

- If you leave the annoying aunt alone, she will soon leave. “I tried to get rid of the bouncer role.

The richer the patient, the wider the possibilities of modern medicine.

“If you use this device once a week, you can avoid plastic surgery,” an ingratiating voice sounded next to me.

“Thanks,” I said without taking my eyes off the glossy magazine, “while I'm not thinking about a facelift.

- But in vain! – murmured the interlocutor.

I put down the weekly:

- Your statement gives rudeness!

- Opportunities for what? - I did not understand.

The stranger with a joyful smile took out a small dark blue box from a plump bag:

I suddenly became interested:

- No, I didn't appreciate it. Can you explain please.

The salesman began to bend his fingers:

How much is your equalizer? I don't understand why I asked.

“Fifteen thousand greens!” - the "businessman" proudly declared.

- Wow! I jumped. - You can buy a car.

- I told you the total price, - the tempter reversed, - do not forget about the discount. Ten percent from the manufacturer.

“Thanks, that’s great, but I don’t need him,” I said politely.

“Another twenty percent from the warehouse of finished goods,” the peddler tempted me, “and fifteen from me personally.

“You'd better look for another buyer,” I didn't flinch.

- Fifty thousand rubles? Will it go? the merchant inquired matter-of-factly.

The price was melting like an icicle in boiling water, but I had absolutely no interest in a skin tightener, so I got off with a brief:

- Twenty-five, - the seller cut off half the amount in a swoop.

I didn't hesitate.

“Be reasonable,” the man urged, “can’t you afford such pennies?”

- Do I look like the wife of an oligarch?

I took another look at the packaging.

The Chinese are also exceptionally industrious and careful. Why did the Germans decorate the box with hieroglyphs? Why didn't they make inscriptions in their native language?

The man was confused, and I continued:

You messed up the doors. The entrance to the clinic "American-Vietnamese doctors" from the courtyard, and you entered through the main entrance and are in a private detective agency.

“Damn,” the interlocutor jumped up. - Just a waste of time!

Forgetting sugar-caramel courtesy at once, the poor fellow stuffed Phoebo into a sports bag and ran away to where people hang out, calmly unfastening millions for medical care.

“Lamp, come in,” came the intercom.

“Lamp,” repeated the selector, “where are you?”

I opened the door of my husband's office and, pretending to be a trained employee, answered:

- I'm listening.

Alas, I, like most people, are greedy for flattery, so now I’m running in an uncomfortable skirt and stilettos to the “boss”.

“Come in,” Max nodded.

I looked around the empty office.

- What do you want?

- Grandma is in the second negotiation room. Talk to her.

I furrowed my eyebrows.

I'm not a detective, I'm a secretary.

The richer the patient, the wider the possibilities of modern medicine.

“If you use this device once a week, you can avoid plastic surgery,” an ingratiating voice sounded next to me.

“Thanks,” I said without taking my eyes off the glossy magazine, “while I'm not thinking about a facelift.

- But in vain! – murmured the interlocutor.

I put down the weekly:

- Your statement gives rudeness!

- Opportunities for what? - I did not understand.

The stranger with a joyful smile took out a small dark blue box from a plump bag:

I suddenly became interested:

- No, I didn't appreciate it. Can you explain please.

The salesman began to bend his fingers:

How much is your equalizer? I don't understand why I asked.

“Fifteen thousand greens!” - the "businessman" proudly declared.

- Wow! I jumped. - You can buy a car.

- I told you the total price, - the tempter reversed, - do not forget about the discount. Ten percent from the manufacturer.

“Thanks, that’s great, but I don’t need him,” I said politely.

“Another twenty percent from the warehouse of finished goods,” the peddler tempted me, “and fifteen from me personally.

“You'd better look for another buyer,” I didn't flinch.

- Fifty thousand rubles? Will it go? the merchant inquired matter-of-factly.

The price was melting like an icicle in boiling water, but I had absolutely no interest in a skin tightener, so I got off with a brief:

- Twenty-five, - the seller cut off half the amount in a swoop.

I didn't hesitate.

“Be reasonable,” the man urged, “can’t you afford such pennies?”

- Do I look like the wife of an oligarch?

I took another look at the packaging.

The Chinese are also exceptionally industrious and careful. Why did the Germans decorate the box with hieroglyphs? Why didn't they make inscriptions in their native language?

The man was confused, and I continued:

You messed up the doors. The entrance to the clinic "American-Vietnamese doctors" from the courtyard, and you entered through the main entrance and are in a private detective agency.

“Damn,” the interlocutor jumped up. - Just a waste of time!

Forgetting sugar-caramel courtesy at once, the poor fellow stuffed Phoebo into a sports bag and ran away to where people hang out, calmly unfastening millions for medical care.

“Lamp, come in,” came the intercom.

“Lamp,” repeated the selector, “where are you?”

I opened the door of my husband's office and, pretending to be a trained employee, answered:

- I'm listening.

Alas, I, like most people, are greedy for flattery, so now I’m running in an uncomfortable skirt and stilettos to the “boss”.

“Come in,” Max nodded.

I looked around the empty office.

- What do you want?

- Grandma is in the second negotiation room. Talk to her.

I furrowed my eyebrows.

I'm not a detective, I'm a secretary.

Husband got up

“I remember that very well and I’m not going to involve you in the investigation. But the aunt is extremely stubborn and is not going to leave without a scandal. Try to calm her down.