off? Do you know that they shot Clara?”
“Shot?” – Katia was surprised. “How’s that? Who!”
“No, they didn’t shoot her, but they threw a knife at her. They wanted to kill her, they probably mixed her up with someone.”
“They wanted to kill her? When? How is she? Is she fine?”
“Yes, yes, don’t worry, she is safe and sound. The knife flew by. I don’t know if this is true, but they say it flew very close, and if it were not for chance…”
“What chance?”
“She leaned over to pick a kitten. You know how compassionate she is. She dragged rubbish into the house when she was a child.”
“God! Do they know who threw the knife?”
“They don’t. They say it was a man from behind the tree.”
“Did she see or remember him?”
“I don’t know. Seems like she saw someone. Please don’t go to her now. They may have mixed you up.”
“Mom, are you out of your mind? You mean they wanted to kill me?! Who would do that!”
“Dear, calm down. I just wanted to say that they could mix you up because you are alike, and instead of her they could accidentally kill you.”
“Bullshit! Are you sure they wanted to kill Clara? Who would do that! Besides, now they have other means of killing people. They shoot, they arrange accidents or arsons – not with a knife! This is nonsense!”
“Yes, yes. But you stay away from her. Especially now when she is moving, or already moved to her professor.”
“Perhaps you are right. Okay, Mom, I'll call you later. See you.”
Leonid Alekseevich Izmailov lived opposite to the tax police service where Clara worked. Leonid repeatedly asked Clara to move to his house, but Clara refused, wanting to become a legal wife first. Now, despite the fact that the plans were violated and the reason for her move was not joyful, Clara was glad, because now she could be with her Leonid every day, know how he was, be sure that he was all right. Without changing anything globally, Clara brought softness and comfort to Leonid's housing with skillful light touches. The kitten, named Saviour on the advice of the local policeman, gave Clara and Leonid a special comfort.
Nona Ivanovna, Leonid’s neighbor, retired, and his former classmate Tatiana, who had known Clara, were not surprised with her moving, but reacted differently: Nona Ivanovna, pleased with the appearance of a new neighbor, showed Clara the location and entered into conversations, friendly and courteous. Tatiana remained cold and unfriendly like she always was. But Clara, who knew from Nona Ivanovna that Tatiana loved Leonid, understood her feelings, so she tried to justify neighbor’s unfriendliness.
Clara went to work five minutes before the start of the working day, because now, in order to get to work, she only had to cross the yard. Checking that everything was in order, Clara, as usual, looked into the kitchen, ran a glance through the switches of the bathroom and toilet rooms, sent Savior a kiss and left the apartment. The elevator descended from the upper floors and opened, showing a young woman hiding irritation behind the mask of indifference. The irritation was caused by elevator opening. “Probably she’s in a hurry,” Clara thought of her, saying hello. The woman inexpressibly answered Clara’s greeting and began squeezing her to the exit. She seemed to be in a real hurry. As soon as the elevator doors opened, she impatiently jumped out of the elevator, banging her heels, ran down the stairs and rushed out onto the street. Walking behind, Clara saw a woman who was looking forward. Suddenly, somehow unnaturally, she stopped, staggered back and collapsed onto the dirty concrete floor between the front doors. Her head was in the entrance. Clara, instinctively rushing to her aid, saw a knife dug into the woman’s white neck. A scarlet streak of blood was flowing down onto the beige collar of her blouse, and woman’s wide eyes were fixed on the dusty entrance ceiling. An alien, terrible, ugly scream burst from Clara’s chest. Her legs became rubbery, and she instinctively pressed herself against the dusty wall.
“A month ago, Clara Yurievna Bychkova, then living at her registration address, was thrown with the exact same knife,” Major Cheredkov reported at an evening meeting of the investigative group. “She was saved by chance: she saw a kitten on the road, bent down to pick it up, and the knife flew by. According to her description, the knife looked exactly like this one”. Alexander Ivanovich nodded at the inlaid knife lying on the table. “She claims she saw a man behind the tree that day, but she could not describe him.”
“Well, can she at least say who this is, a woman or a man?” asked Colonel Stasov.
“She thinks it was a man of average height.”
“Well, what was he wearing?” Colonel continued asking.
“Something dark.”
“Brunette, blond?” Stasov was getting annoyed.
“She didn’t remember. She was very scared. She grabbed a kitten and ran away.”
“But did she at least remember the knife?” asked Stasov with obvious suspicion.
“Yes, she described it as exactly…”
“Or maybe she was under the impression of this murder?”
“No,” Intervened Captain Rublev. “I…”
“It’s not your turn to report,” Stasov stopped him. “Is that all?” He asked sternly.
“I also wanted to say,” Cheredkov hesitantly spoke, “that Clara Yurievna Bychkova is a Captain of the tax police. Now she is performing an audit of TAKHO, which is engaged in intermediary operations. Their audit results are not that positive.”
“More details, Cheredkov,” Colonel demanded. “Was there a theft?”
“No, tax concealment.”
“Is the sum large?”
“Yes, seems like it’s a bulk of money.”
“How much?”
“This is still being investigated.” Colonel frowned nervously and asked again: “Is that all?”
“Yes,” answered Alexander Ivanovich.
“What a lucky lady,” said Stasov. “First kitten, now this. What about you?” He turned to Captain Rublev. “I spoke with the district police officer from where Bychkova used to live. Officer Gleb Borisovich Chernyshev was called on June 17 by Clara Yurievna Bychkova. There was no knife in the tree where Clara Yurievna saw it, but a fresh trace remained. Chernyshev recorded the description of the knife made by Clara Yurievna in his notebook. I made a copy from this sheet. Here it is, I will read it.”
“No need to do that,” interrupted Stasov. “Go on!”
“On June 19, Gleb Borisovich Chernyshev found the described knife from Anton Karlovich Kirkorov. He was called by his communal neighbor.”
“Name!” demanded Stasov. He demanded "accuracy, accuracy and competent legal language" from his subordinates. Captain looked into the notes.
“Sofya Lazarevna Kobzon.”
