Night club on bald mountain full version. Nightclub on Bald Mountain (Daria Dontsova). About the book "Night Club on Bald Mountain" Daria Dontsova
It's good that you're both at home! Garik exulted, plopping down on a chair. “I have a super thing for you.
“There are three of us here,” I stopped the intruder. - Haven't you noticed Gennady?
“Hello,” Igor said without looking at Pogodin. And he continued: “Look! Here!
He began to rummage in his bag, and it became clear to me that Zoya Ignatyevna's beloved child would now voice another ingenious business proposal. So I tried to interfere with the presentation.
- Igor, we are busy.
Garik, accustomed by his pathologically loving mother to the fact that all things are put aside if he starts talking about some of his projects, was inexpressibly amazed.
"Do you want to know what I came up with?"
“Well… you see,” my husband began, “of course, your idea can be great…”
- No, we do not want! I cut. - Now we are discussing with Gena the presentation of Felix's new book. We are going to spend it in a wonderful place called Progress Park. Mr. Pogodin doesn't have much time, so sit quietly. We'll talk and then we'll listen to you.
“You’re trying in vain,” Garik waved his hand, “you won’t succeed.”
- Why? Gennady asked.
Do you know what Progress Park is? Igor asked condescendingly.
“In a way, yes,” answered Pogodin, the sole founder and owner of the educational and entertainment complex.
- I explain ... - Garik forced. - On a vast territory, houses were built, where children are told about different sciences. For example, "The structure of man." There is a huge model of the body, you can enter it and walk around all the organs: the heart, the liver, etc. But what does the crap written by Felix have to do with this?
“I hope to present myself to the readers in the Anthropology pavilion,” my husband explained. – My book about ancient people is not intended for scientists or students, but for the general reader. I first turned to the genre of popular science literature.
“Nonsense,” Garik snapped, “don’t even dream about it.”
- About what? Felix asked.
“Park of Progress is a very popular place,” his relative said frequently, “generally speaking, it was my idea to create such a zone. But Daria did not give money, so now I am forced to observe someone else's success, which by right should be mine.
- Not true! – I was indignant. - You outlined the idea, and Manevin said that the idea was good, but it had long been put into practice - such a business has existed for ten years, it is called Progress Park.
- And what? Igor got angry. - I came up with a fundamentally different concept and a different name, I wanted to found Progress Park. There should have been forty buildings dedicated to various sciences, and the one who stole my idea had thirty-nine of them.
Gennady laughed.
I don't see anything funny! - Garik was furious. - Look what I decided to release ... Whoops!
He unwrapped the package and pulled out a white mug.
Felix read the inscription on it:
- "Goat. 22.12–19.01. Is there such a zodiac sign - Goat? And why is there a chain attached to the handle of the cup?
“I suppose we are talking about Capricorn,” Pogodin explained, barely holding back his laughter. - I'm not into astrology, but my birthday is the twenty-ninth of December, so I'm in the know. Is your idea to produce cool mugs with funny inscriptions? There are many similar offers on the market, the competition is very high, those who first started it took the cream off this business, now it is too late to count on big profits.
- I made ten pieces for testing, - continued Igor. - You are mistaken, there is no animal goat. And there is a sign of the zodiac - a goat.
I looked down. Here is another distinguishing feature of the character of the unfortunate inventor - Garik does not admit that he is wrong for any gingerbread. No, everyone around is fools, he alone is smart. The whole company is out of step, only he is correct.
“According to my absolutely correct calculations, cups with such symbols will be the most popular,” the “astrologer” chattered. - But you look at the bottom!
Gena took the mug in his hand and turned it over.
- There's a bottleneck! Similar to the one used to plug the drain holes in the bath.
- And you're done, - Garik praised him, impudently discarding the polite "you", - he caught the very essence. Demonstrating ... Oops!
Igor pulled the chain that was attached to the handle, and the plug popped out.
– What do we have now? - he asked.
“A hole,” I replied.
- Brilliant, right? – admired Igor.
“Sorry, but I don’t get the idea yet,” my husband said carefully.
“People are impudent,” Garik began to explain his idea, “as soon as you leave the office, someone grabs your cup and drinks from it. Do you like it?
“Not really,” said Gennady. - You can pick up a disease, say, stomatitis.
- These are still flowers, - Igor agitated, - full of deadly infections. Like appendicitis...
“Inflammation of the appendix of the caecum is not transmitted through the dishes,” Felix objected.
“Influenza,” Garik said, as if not hearing him, “HIV, tuberculosis, strabismus ...
“The latter is unlikely,” I giggled, “I haven’t heard anyone’s eyes go in different directions after a person uses someone’s mug.
- No, - Gena laughed, - this can be easily obtained if they drive a fist into the eye for arrogance.
“In the office where I used to work, one girl got herpes,” a thin voice suddenly said. - She drank from a bottle, and before her someone infectious did the same. And now the unfortunate lip is constantly swollen, because herpes sticks for life.
I turned around and saw Gennady's secretary on the threshold of the dining room. The blonde stood huddled against the sideboard.
- Here! – shouted Igor. - She is right! What is your name?
“Nina,” the secretary replied.
I shifted my gaze to Pogodin. I hope he's a little embarrassed now. He called his subordinate Tanya, Natasha, Katya ... The name "Nina" never sounded.
– Shut up! - Gennady ordered the assistant. Don't meddle when they don't ask. What did you sink?
“I brought a folder with documents,” Nina squeaked.
“Here, stand silently until you are allowed to open your mouth,” the boss snapped.
- How to protect yourself from terrible incurable ailments? Igor continued meanwhile. - For example, from the Krapivin-Sergeev-Petrenko syndrome There is no such disease. ( Here and further approx. auth.)?
“I haven’t heard of such a disease,” Felix said in surprise.
- Are you a doctor? - Garik ran into him.
“No,” Manevin answered honestly. - But…
“Then don’t speak out,” Garik waved him off. - In short, I came up with an ingenious, original, superb, amazing device for drinking liquids - mugs with a cork. I used it, took out the cork and went on business. Stopudovo no one will touch your cup - it is without a bottom. The mug is intended for residents of communal apartments, students, pensioners, spouses, children…
- Mister Manevin! - suddenly someone spoke up. - Here is happiness! Here is joy! Finally I found you!
A young woman flew into the dining room, dressed, despite the warm May uncharacteristic for the Moscow region, in a black woolen dress to the floor.
- I am so glad! And this is your wonderful, beautiful, smart wife?
The lady went up to Igor and held out her hand to him:
- Good afternoon.
I coughed. An interesting day today, however ... Who is this stranger who confused me with Garik? Of course, I know very well that I am not even a beauty at all, but I absolutely do not look like a man.
“You are greeting Igor, my relative,” Felix explained to the stranger, “and my wife Daria is sitting in an armchair, here she is.
The guest wrung her hands, exclaiming theatrically:
- God, I have no forgiveness!
“Nonsense,” I said. - Excuse me, who are you? Who did they come to?
“To Felix,” the intruder said briskly. - Mr. Manevin knows me very well, we constantly correspond with him about my entry into the Witches of the Moscow Region society. And with you, Daria, I am also well acquainted. True, in absentia - you sometimes answer me on the phone. My name is Marfa Medvedeva.
“Mmm…” Felix groaned.
- Will you perform the ceremony? the girl whimpered. And again agitated: - Please, today at midnight! I brought everything, everything you need!
Martha slammed the hefty bag she was holding onto the floor, sat down, opened the zipper and began to pull out the contents, saying:
- I did not forget anything! Here is a goblet, a crown, a pot for brewing a potion and ...
Medvedeva took out a stick from the case and twirled it. The piece of wood immediately turned into a small broom.
Gennady neighed happily, Igor's eyes bulged, and a strange expression appeared on Felix's face: a mixture of pity and surprise. I silently watched what was happening. Well well! Martha came to us! Ask who is this uninvited guest? I'll try to explain.
A year ago, Roman Kalinin, my husband's childhood friend, came to visit us. The conversation turned to the media, and at one point Manevin said:
- Unfortunately, people believe everything that is written in newspapers and magazines.
“Not at all,” said Roman. – In order for the audience to take information seriously, it must be partially true. If the article writes about the launch of a spacecraft to Mars, the crew of which consists of monkeys, because scientists did not dare to send people to another planet, then this will not raise doubts. After all, drugs are tested on primates, for example. But if they report that hand-tailed chickens were sent to Mars, everyone will laugh.
“I must disappoint you,” Felix objected, “hand-tailed hens will arouse great interest not only among the common people, but also among the media. Journalists of all stripes will rush to interview them.
Kalinin began to defend his point of view, but my husband did not agree with her. The friends argued for a long time, and in the end Manevin suggested:
- Let's check our versions in practice. I will write an article full of nonsense, and I guarantee you: it will be printed, circulated on the Internet, and reporters will rush to interview everyone who is mentioned in it.
I agree, get to work! Roman exclaimed excitedly. - If it's your way, you and Dashutka will fly to rest at my expense wherever you want. But if they send you out from everywhere, which I personally don’t doubt for a minute, then you, Felix, pay the Maldives for me and Katyukha.
“Shake it,” my husband nodded.
Nightclub on Lysa Gora
Daria Arkadievna Dontsova
Ironic detective (Eksmo)Private detective lover Dasha Vasilyeva #53
There is a terrible commotion in the house of Dasha Vasilyeva - guests and neighbors die, friends disappear without a trace. How are these events connected with the mysterious society "Witches of the Moscow Region"? But it turns out that it is Dasha who is the main sorceress, and even together with her own husband, who, as it turns out, is also a specialist in black magic. True, Dasha herself and Professor Manevin about this, as they say. neither sleep nor spirit. And the story began many years ago, during the then little-known Halloween holiday in Russia. Three former students went to a festive party in fancy dress, and this is what happened ...
Daria Arkadievna Dontsova
Nightclub on Lysa Gora
© Dontsova D.A., 2017
© Design. LLC "Publishing house" E ", 2017
You get to know your husband better in five minutes of scandal than in twenty years of a happy marriage...
“What have you pinned down on me, stupid goat?” - Pogodin barked, looking at the folder, which was handed to him by a blonde in a baggy dress.
“Documents, Gennady Alekseevich,” the girl answered quietly. - You asked them to bring them from the car.
In a tone that could have wilted a bouquet that stood on the table in a large vase, our guest said:
- Well, repeat what I told you.
“You said you needed papers from the car,” his secretary whispered.
– Folder color? Pogodin asked ominously.
“Oh, I wanted to make ginger tea,” Felix bustled. - Gena, I put an orange in the drink. You do not mind?
“You can even spit in a cup, I’m on the drum,” snapped a friend. - Natalia, answer! What color folder did I have to deliver urgently?
“Black,” the blonde murmured.
“Which one did you give me now?” Pogodin did not calm down.
“Black,” repeated the assistant.
- Tatyana, open your eyes! the boss yelled at her. She's dark blue!
Felix narrowed his eyes.
- Gene, for the sake of justice, I note that the color looks great like black.
The assistant realized that they were trying to protect her, and perked up:
- It's dark in the car.
- It's dark in the car ... - Gennady mimicked. And he burst out laughing: - It's sunset in your brains. Catherine! Step march for papers. You have a minute. Well, the countdown has begun: one, two ...
The assistant backed away and disappeared into the corridor.
“You scared the poor thing so much that she’s moving away from you like an icon - she’s afraid to turn her back on you,” Manevin remarked, looking at our guest.
“I didn’t expect you to be rude to a woman,” I drawled disapprovingly. - And what is the name of your secretary - Natasha, Tanya or Katya?
Gena stroked the pug Khuchik, who was sitting on his lap, and muttered:
- I do not remember. What's the difference? Dashencia, you understand, this goat is not a woman. I'm talking specifically.
I almost dropped my cup.
What, is she a man? Wow, she looks like a pretty girl.
Pogodin laughed.
- Adore you! No, Elena is not a man. But she is not a woman, but an employee.
I looked at my old friend in surprise.
“So she gets money,” Pogodin continued, “she has a social package, paid vacation, I pay her a ballot. Excellent conditions! And I need a good job from her for all this sugar.
“If you bully a woman, she will lose her last mind,” said Felix.
“You can’t lose what you don’t have,” Gena chuckled. - This sheep is not able to remember that I need a black folder, so he brings a blue one.
“I could mix them up too,” I said. – Felix is right, the color of the folders is almost the same.
“If an employee can’t cope, she should be fired,” Manevin picked up, “but you can’t be rude to a person.
Gennady slammed his fist on the table.
– Ha! So after all it is impossible to find a normal worker. This Galina, or whatever it is, is the best of the worst. And during the interview, she behaved appropriately. The head of the personnel department reported to me: “Finally, I dug up an intelligent metropolitan resident who does not speak “from Ukraine”, but normally in Russian “from Ukraine”, does not confuse Prus with Proust and knows that Mozart did not write books. The characteristics are good, a diploma from a theater university, but her career as an actress did not work out - she was not taken to any team in Moscow and the region, she was not invited to the cinema. The girl graduated from courses where executive assistants are trained, and served as a secretary in a company that soon went bankrupt. I was delighted and said: “Okay, tell her to dress properly, let her buy a uniform, and take it on a trial period.” And that's what turned out: the girl forgets everything. If you ask for tea, you will bring coffee. You tell them to call one phone, another one dials. Idiot!
“It would be interesting to know her real name, though,” I muttered.
“I can’t fire this wonderful miracle yet,” Gennady grumbled, “he ordered the personnel officer to find me another assistant, but there are only sheep, goats and other animals around. Clever women do not want to work, they already live well.
“You are wrong,” I objected.
- Yeah, yeah ... - Pogodin narrowed his eyes and spoke insinuatingly: - Daria, I offer you the place of my personal assistant. Salary is decent. Social package. Two weeks vacation. The working day is not standardized. Output floating. Well? Agree, I will arrange for you today.
“Thank you,” I replied, “but I do not need service to earn money. Ready to do something of interest for free ...
“That's it,” Gena interrupted, “that's what I'm talking about. The normal ones don't want to work, and the abnormal ones piss me off.
Are your employees required to wear uniforms? Felix decided to put an end to the sensitive subject.
- Those who work in the "Park of Progress", by all means, - Pogodin answered, - and in the central office, employees wear civilian clothes. Why are you interested? Ah, I see... I just said that I had the head of personnel explain to the goat what clothes to wear. I explain! I, Gennady Alekseevich Pogodin, am the owner of a very successful business called "Park of Progress", the owner of a country house, a multi-room apartment on Stary Arbat, apartments in Paris, a fat bill and much more. I'm Single. And he never married. I have no children, an orphan. Can you imagine my price in the marriage market? If you compare me with cars, then your humble servant is like an exclusive Rolls-Royce made of pure gold. Therefore, the girls who get access to me for work dress up in short and tight. Fools think I'm a horny idiot who drools at the sight of a naked body, and I'll rush to buy a brick-diamond ring to get hold of him. Doesn't drip! I won't run! I'm not interested in nerds. The main erogenous zone of Mr. Pogodin is the brain. Therefore, goats in the position of secretary are supposed to wear wide dresses knee-length, with a collar under the throat, the color of the clothes is calm, makeup is minimal, the heel of the shoes is five centimeters.
“It doesn’t work out very logically,” Manevin smiled. - If in the beautiful half of humanity you are attracted only by the mind, then the employee's mini-skirt should not worry either. And if you pay attention to defiant clothes and become furious, then this means that you are trying to curb the demon of lust.
I looked at my husband. Manevin and I never quarreled, and I have never witnessed a quarrel between my husband and anyone, but now something happened in our dining room
Page 2 of 16
sorting out Gennady's relationship with his secretary, and it became clear to me: Felix can be sarcastic. That's really true: in five minutes of scandal you get to know your husband better than in twenty years of a happy marriage.
- And no locks with rhinestones on top! - Pogodin went to the dressing. “I can’t stand hair structures.
“It’s like a monastery,” I chuckled. “What about a headscarf?”
“I don’t insist on it,” Gena answered seriously.
- Hello, hello! shouted the nasty tenor. - Will you make some coffee? Cappuccino! With whipped cream!
Mafi the dog, still sleeping peacefully on the couch, jumped up and huddled under him in an instant.
There are a lot of animals in our house that know well that they are loved. Pug Khuchik, poodle Cherry, hefty shaggy Athena, cat Folodia, raven Hector and others are not afraid of people, because no one has ever offended them. The animals always rejoice at our guests and hope for a treat. True, they all perfectly understand that, say, from my closest friend, the surgeon Oksana, and her son, the veterinarian Denis, they will not get anything. Ksyuta and Den will never give the four-legged and winged inhabitants of the house a piece of sausage or a roll. But we also have other guests. For example, Zina Raikin at the sight of Hooch begins to lisp:
“Ah, ah, he has such hungry eyes!”
And none of my assurances that Hooch, as well as all the other animals, ate well, but the unhappy expression on the pug’s face always remains, even when he treats himself to cheese and sleeps in a duvet, they do not affect Zina. No, she says:
- Well, if you feel sorry that I will treat the poor dog with a tiny bun, I won’t do it.
But as soon as I leave the room, for example, to the kitchen, Raikin acts in her own way. Returning to the dining room, I certainly see: the whole flock licks their lips and desperately twirls their tails, and on the table there is an empty pie dish.
Mafi loves Zina, who always treats her to something. True, she meets the strict Oksana and Denis as relatives. Why did the friendly dog instantly hide under the sofa, hearing the voice of Igor, the youngest son of Zoya Ignatievna, the mother of my mother-in-law Gloria?
I'll explain now. Before settling in Lozhkino, Mafi was Igor's dog, who first trained her to search for truffles in the Moscow region, then taught her to dance and various other curiosities. He cherished the dream of getting rich at the expense of the dog's talent, made plans for how chic he would live, selling mushrooms found by Mafusha at auctions for crazy thousands of euros. But the dog did not want to master either this or any other science. Igor was angry, punished the poor fellow, but achieved only one thing: the dog began to hide when he appeared. Disappointed in it, the owner gave it to us. Mafi has been living in Lozhkino for a long time, where no one forces her to mine diamonds by digging holes in a potato field. Mafusya is completely happy, but as soon as Igor comes to visit, she instantly evaporates. I think she is afraid that Garik will take her away.
To be honest, I'm not particularly happy about the visits of Zoya Ignatievna's offspring either. Why didn't my husband's uncle please me?
Igor is constantly gushing with ideas, and he dreams of immediately getting a lot of money and tirelessly thinks out how profitable a business he can do. Sitting quietly in the office, stubbornly and consistently climbing the career ladder is boring for him. Garik is a generator of exotic ideas. For example, one of these is the release of toilet paper with an edible sleeve. I remember very well how he presented this brilliant idea to me.
- Here you are sitting on the toilet ... And suddenly - I wanted to eat. What to do? And here there is a roll hanging on the wall, and it has an edible sleeve with the taste of sausage, cheese or macaroni and meat. Gorgeous idea! I'll make billions on it!
I could not stand it and mockingly suggested:
- And the paper itself should be with the aroma of coffee, tea or lemonade. Not only eat, but also drink.
Do you think Igor realized that they were laughing at him? No! He admired:
– Dashunya, you instantly grasped the essence and made a mega-cool proposal. Great! So you agree?
- For what? I got worried.
“Invest in production,” Igor rubbed his hands greedily. Here's a detailed business plan for you...
And he handed me a piece of paper with a crooked phrase: “I'm taking five million dollars, in a few months they turn into twenty, I repay you. The future belongs to the edible sleeve. All conversations with Igor end the same way - he asks for money, but I don’t give it to him.
It's good that you're both at home! Garik exulted, plopping down on a chair. “I have a super thing for you.
“There are three of us here,” I stopped the intruder. - Haven't you noticed Gennady?
“Hello,” Igor said without looking at Pogodin. And he continued: “Look! Here!
He began to rummage in his bag, and it became clear to me that Zoya Ignatyevna's beloved child would now voice another ingenious business proposal. So I tried to interfere with the presentation.
- Igor, we are busy.
Garik, accustomed by his pathologically loving mother to the fact that all things are put aside if he starts talking about some of his projects, was inexpressibly amazed.
"Do you want to know what I came up with?"
“Well… you see,” my husband began, “of course, your idea can be great…”
- No, we do not want! I cut. - Now we are discussing with Gena the presentation of Felix's new book. We are going to spend it in a wonderful place called Progress Park. Mr. Pogodin doesn't have much time, so sit quietly. We'll talk and then we'll listen to you.
“You’re trying in vain,” Garik waved his hand, “you won’t succeed.”
- Why? Gennady asked.
Do you know what Progress Park is? Igor asked condescendingly.
“In a way, yes,” answered Pogodin, the sole founder and owner of the educational and entertainment complex.
- I explain ... - Garik forced. - On a vast territory, houses were built, where children are told about different sciences. For example, "The structure of man." There is a huge model of the body, you can enter it and walk around all the organs: the heart, the liver, etc. But what does the crap written by Felix have to do with this?
“I hope to present myself to the readers in the Anthropology pavilion,” my husband explained. – My book about ancient people is not intended for scientists or students, but for the general reader. I first turned to the genre of popular science literature.
“Nonsense,” Garik snapped, “don’t even dream about it.”
- About what? Felix asked.
“Park of Progress is a very popular place,” his relative said frequently, “generally speaking, it was my idea to create such a zone. But Daria did not give money, so now I am forced to observe someone else's success, which by right should be mine.
- Not true! – I was indignant. - You outlined the idea, and Manevin said that the idea was good, but it had long been put into practice - such a business has existed for ten years, it is called Progress Park.
- And what? Igor got angry. - I came up with a fundamentally different concept and a different name, I wanted to found Progress Park. There should have been forty buildings dedicated to various sciences, and the one who stole my idea had thirty-nine of them.
Gennady laughed.
I don't see anything funny! - Garik was furious. - Look what I decided to release ... Whoops!
He unfolded
Page 3 of 16
package and pulled out a white mug.
Felix read the inscription on it:
- "Goat. 22.12–19.01. Is there such a zodiac sign - Goat? And why is there a chain attached to the handle of the cup?
“I suppose we are talking about Capricorn,” Pogodin explained, barely holding back his laughter. - I'm not into astrology, but my birthday is the twenty-ninth of December, so I'm in the know. Is your idea to produce cool mugs with funny inscriptions? There are many similar offers on the market, the competition is very high, those who first started it took the cream off this business, now it is too late to count on big profits.
- I made ten pieces for testing, - continued Igor. - You are mistaken, there is no animal goat. And there is a sign of the zodiac - a goat.
I looked down. Here is another distinguishing feature of the character of the unfortunate inventor - Garik does not admit that he is wrong for any gingerbread. No, everyone around is fools, he alone is smart. The whole company is out of step, only he is correct.
“According to my absolutely correct calculations, cups with such symbols will be the most popular,” the “astrologer” chattered. - But you look at the bottom!
Gena took the mug in his hand and turned it over.
- There's a bottleneck! Similar to the one used to plug the drain holes in the bath.
- And you're done, - Garik praised him, impudently discarding the polite "you", - he caught the very essence. Demonstrating ... Oops!
Igor pulled the chain that was attached to the handle, and the plug popped out.
– What do we have now? - he asked.
“A hole,” I replied.
- Brilliant, right? – admired Igor.
“Sorry, but I don’t get the idea yet,” my husband said carefully.
“People are impudent,” Garik began to explain his idea, “as soon as you leave the office, someone grabs your cup and drinks from it. Do you like it?
“Not really,” said Gennady. - You can pick up a disease, say, stomatitis.
- These are still flowers, - Igor agitated, - full of deadly infections. Like appendicitis...
“Inflammation of the appendix of the caecum is not transmitted through the dishes,” Felix objected.
“Influenza,” Garik said, as if not hearing him, “HIV, tuberculosis, strabismus ...
“The latter is unlikely,” I giggled, “I haven’t heard anyone’s eyes go in different directions after a person uses someone’s mug.
- No, - Gena laughed, - this can be easily obtained if they drive a fist into the eye for arrogance.
“In the office where I used to work, one girl got herpes,” a thin voice suddenly said. - She drank from a bottle, and before her someone infectious did the same. And now the unfortunate lip is constantly swollen, because herpes sticks for life.
I turned around and saw Gennady's secretary on the threshold of the dining room. The blonde stood huddled against the sideboard.
- Here! – shouted Igor. - She is right! What is your name?
“Nina,” the secretary replied.
I shifted my gaze to Pogodin. I hope he's a little embarrassed now. He called his subordinate Tanya, Natasha, Katya ... The name "Nina" never sounded.
– Shut up! - Gennady ordered the assistant. Don't meddle when they don't ask. What did you sink?
“I brought a folder with documents,” Nina squeaked.
“Here, stand silently until you are allowed to open your mouth,” the boss snapped.
- How to protect yourself from terrible incurable ailments? Igor continued meanwhile. - For example, from the Krapivin-Sergeev-Petrenko syndrome?
“I haven’t heard of such a disease,” Felix said in surprise.
- Are you a doctor? - Garik ran into him.
“No,” Manevin answered honestly. - But…
“Then don’t speak out,” Garik waved him off. - In short, I came up with an ingenious, original, superb, amazing device for drinking liquids - mugs with a cork. I used it, took out the cork and went on business. Stopudovo no one will touch your cup - it is without a bottom. The mug is intended for residents of communal apartments, students, pensioners, spouses, children…
- Mister Manevin! - suddenly someone spoke up. - Here is happiness! Here is joy! Finally I found you!
A young woman flew into the dining room, dressed, despite the warm May uncharacteristic for the Moscow region, in a black woolen dress to the floor.
- I am so glad! And this is your wonderful, beautiful, smart wife?
The lady went up to Igor and held out her hand to him:
- Good afternoon.
I coughed. An interesting day today, however ... Who is this stranger who confused me with Garik? Of course, I know very well that I am not even a beauty at all, but I absolutely do not look like a man.
“You are greeting Igor, my relative,” Felix explained to the stranger, “and my wife Daria is sitting in an armchair, here she is.
The guest wrung her hands, exclaiming theatrically:
- God, I have no forgiveness!
“Nonsense,” I said. - Excuse me, who are you? Who did they come to?
“To Felix,” the intruder said briskly. - Mr. Manevin knows me very well, we constantly correspond with him about my entry into the Witches of the Moscow Region society. And with you, Daria, I am also well acquainted. True, in absentia - you sometimes answer me on the phone. My name is Marfa Medvedeva.
“Mmm…” Felix groaned.
- Will you perform the ceremony? the girl whimpered. And again agitated: - Please, today at midnight! I brought everything, everything you need!
Martha slammed the hefty bag she was holding onto the floor, sat down, opened the zipper and began to pull out the contents, saying:
- I did not forget anything! Here is a goblet, a crown, a pot for brewing a potion and ...
Medvedeva took out a stick from the case and twirled it. The piece of wood immediately turned into a small broom.
Gennady neighed happily, Igor's eyes bulged, and a strange expression appeared on Felix's face: a mixture of pity and surprise. I silently watched what was happening. Well well! Martha came to us! Ask who is this uninvited guest? I'll try to explain.
A year ago, Roman Kalinin, my husband's childhood friend, came to visit us. The conversation turned to the media, and at one point Manevin said:
- Unfortunately, people believe everything that is written in newspapers and magazines.
“Not at all,” said Roman. – In order for the audience to take information seriously, it must be partially true. If the article writes about the launch of a spacecraft to Mars, the crew of which consists of monkeys, because scientists did not dare to send people to another planet, then this will not raise doubts. After all, drugs are tested on primates, for example. But if they report that hand-tailed chickens were sent to Mars, everyone will laugh.
“I must disappoint you,” Felix objected, “hand-tailed hens will arouse great interest not only among the common people, but also among the media. Journalists of all stripes will rush to interview them.
Kalinin began to defend his point of view, but my husband did not agree with her. The friends argued for a long time, and in the end Manevin suggested:
- Let's check our versions in practice. I will write an article full of nonsense, and I guarantee you: it will be printed, circulated on the Internet, and reporters will rush to interview everyone who is mentioned in it.
I agree, get to work! Roman exclaimed excitedly. - If it's your way, you and Dashutka will fly to rest at my expense wherever you want. But if they send you out from everywhere, what personally I don’t for a minute
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I have no doubt, then you, Felix, pay the Maldives for me and Katyuha.
“Shake it,” my husband nodded.
The next day, in a burst of inspiration, Manevin dug up an interview that a certain journalist named Anzhelika Zaduyvetervnoschay allegedly took from him.
I hope everyone understands that such a correspondent does not exist? Felix, choking with laughter, made up both her passport details and the questions, along with his own answers to them. But Manevin indicated his name, scientific title, position, all information about himself correctly.
The article began like this: “Your society of the “Witches of the Moscow Region” is about to turn three thousand years old, and it is customary to sum up the results in the anniversary year. What interesting things have been done lately? It was the first question of the "reporter". Felix's reply followed: “The organization in question is closed. But I understand why you came to me for information - I recently published a book about this community. The supreme witch is with me in a long-term friendship, so I got access to all the materials ... "And then a few pages of frank nonsense about how women fly on brooms, fulfill their own and other people's desires, about their immortality, oh ...
Roman, reading the opus, rubbed his hands excitedly.
“You will definitely lose, no one will ever believe in such a thing.” A broom with a built-in navigator that shows you the way? Felix, the science fiction writer has disappeared in you, something even Vadim Panov, whose books I respect, cannot invent.
I agreed with Kalinin, so I advised my husband:
- Rewrite the article, make it at least a little bit like the truth. It is believed that Moscow was founded in one thousand one hundred and forty-seven. And you have a society "Witches of the Moscow Region" celebrating the three thousandth anniversary of its creation. Any student will immediately realize: your article is a hoax.
– Let's look at the reaction of people who read this particular material. It is very interesting to know how people will respond,” my professor calmly reacted and called his friend Kostya Borkin, the owner of a large information Internet portal.
Borkin was delighted when he heard about the bet.
– Super! I will publish your article tomorrow. I think the people will be offended, but there will be a couple of fools who will take the "duck" seriously, and then we will have a discussion on the topic: "Rumors, gossip and false information on the Web." Thank you very much, because it's May and we don't have any interesting news.
The next morning at seven o'clock the "interview" saw the light of day. I woke up around nine, went downstairs, yawning, to the first floor, made myself some cocoa, and sat down at the table. About ten minutes later Manevin came running, followed by Degtyarev. Unlike all the inhabitants of our house, Alexander Mikhailovich is a fan of horror stories called "News". The Colonel grabbed the remote control with a habitual movement, pressed the button, the image of a cheerful blonde appeared on the TV screen, who chirped enthusiastically:
Today is rich in interesting events. Three thousand years from the date of its creation is celebrated by the most closed public organization in Russia "Witches of the Moscow Region" ...
I dropped the cup, it fell on the back of Huchik, who was lying near the chair. It’s good that the cocoa had time to cool slightly and the pug was not injured. The rest of the dogs immediately rushed to lick their brother, the pack had an incredible holiday.
Degtyarev, who knew about the bet, yelled:
- Wow! They believed and retell the nonsense written by you! It just can't be! Wow, they quote Angelica Zaduyvetervnoschay!
I can't believe my ears and eyes! I repeated to the fat man in astonishment.
Manevin chuckled.
Well, they added something of their own. For example, I did not write that in order to join society, one must starve for three months and walk barefoot. This is the creativity of the pen workers.
And it started! The amazing "news" was picked up by all and sundry. The weak voices of intelligent journalists who kept saying: “People, wake up, stop talking incredible nonsense,” drowned in the cries of those who excitedly talked about sorceresses. A day later, Baba Yagas of all stripes began handing out their interviews. Everyone unanimously claimed that they were members of the secret society "Witches of the Moscow Region" and could, of course, lure luck, material well-being and so on to any person for money ...
Felix and Roma just scratched their heads.
- Even in a nightmare I could not imagine how many idiots around! Kalinin was indignant.
“I understood that there would be people who would believe the journalist Anzhelika Zaduyvetervnoschay,” my husband muttered in embarrassment, “but to have so many of them… It didn’t turn out well. I contributed to the popularity of all sorts of scammers. I feel awkward. This joke shouldn't have been made.
For a whole month we lived in a siege. I even had to change the phone numbers in the house and Felix's mobile, because various people constantly called him and asked him to accept them into society. He first politely explained to each:
- Excuse me, but this interview is a very unsuccessful prank, the organization "Witches of the Moscow Region" does not exist.
But in response he always heard:
- Oh please! I'll do what you say, just talk to your friend, the high witch. I so want to be a witch!
Then there was a story for about ten minutes about the unhappy life of the caller in all directions: no money, her husband is a nerd, children are freaks, the boss is a bastard ... Joining the organization will make her happy, she will take revenge on all her enemies, turn them into toads, and swindle herself for money ...
The wave of nonsense reached its climax five or seven days after the publication of the "interview". Manevin began to be called the supreme sorcerer, a guru who can make any woman a sorceress, talked about how to join the witch army, described in detail the reception ceremony, some newspapers published drawings of brooms. And none of us - neither Roma, nor Felix, nor Kostya Borkin, nor I, nor Degtyarev - knew how to stop the barrage of obscurantism.
Shortly after the beginning of the general sabbath, Felix arrived home in deep thought and said:
– You won't believe who and what offered me today... Professor Wortfeld called from a major American university. Until now, I considered Michael a normal person with a sober mind of a scientist. We meet with him at various international conferences, I listen to his reports with pleasure, they are always interesting and informative. And suddenly! Michael asked permission to come to us to attend a meeting of the society "Witches of the Moscow Region". He said: “Felix, I have a very difficult situation both at home and at work. The wife went to another, forbade meeting with the children. A year ago, I was promised the position of dean, even guaranteed that my place, if I support one candidate in the elections and explain to everyone that he is the most suitable candidate. I'm the host of the TV program, the audience listens to my opinion. So, I fulfilled this condition. And what? Another became the dean. A month later, the channel closed my program. That is, I have failed in life on all counts. I will pay the members of your union to return my luck. We write here that you work with the blood of black hens. I can bring a hen with me. Or can it be purchased locally?
“It would be funny if it weren’t so sad,” I drawled, “wow, university professor, anthropologist ... Well, what should we do now?
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nothing,” Manevin sighed. - It will subside on its own, people will forget about the interview.
My husband, as always, was right. Interest in witches faded after some time, they stopped terrorizing us. But one of the most stubborn ladies, who introduced herself as Martha, continued to pester Felix. She constantly called him on his mobile, then began to torment our home number. Manevin regularly blocked this madam, but she acquired a new SIM card. We again changed all contacts and lived quietly for some time, but soon this Martha appeared again in all tubes.
- Are we writing a statement to the operator again? I asked after my husband once again patiently explained to the pesky lady that he couldn't teach her how to do magic.
“I see no point in that,” Felix shrugged, “she will get him again.” This Marfa seems to be a very active lunatic.
A couple of months later, Masha, once again talking to an annoying person, told me:
If you can't get rid of someone, love him. Martha must be a lonely, unhappy old woman. She does not have a personal life, so she thinks that, having become a witch, she will turn her cat into a groom and find happiness in marriage.
“Remember Ira, the grandmother of Yura Subbotin,” the daughter objected, “those who don’t know her, having heard her “hello”, turn to her: “Girl, call, please ...” Let's treat Marfa as a pensioner who survived a little out of mind. How can you be angry with this?
“No,” I sighed.
- That's right, musik, - Marusya nodded, - it's just a pity.
Masha's words unexpectedly reassured everyone. Since then, we, having heard the words in the receiver: “Hello, hello, this is Martha. When will the professor start recruiting new members for the Witches of the Moscow Region? – without any emotions answered:
- Good morning, Martha. Mr. Manevin is now abroad. We have no connection with him.
Grandma bothered us once or twice a week at eight or nine in the morning. A conversation with her usually took about ten minutes. When she heard about the professor's absence, the madwoman asked the person who answered the phone questions. Well, for example, such: “How long do you have to wait for luck?”, “Do I need to attach a saddle to a broom?”, “Can I wear trousers on a flight? Otherwise, it’s not very decent to rush through the sky in a skirt - suddenly the wind will blow, and I will show everyone below my underwear ”... We diligently answered and promised Martha that everything would be fine with her. Our family members were so accustomed to morning conversation with a crazy old woman that they became very worried when she suddenly stopped calling.
Maybe she got sick? Masha suggested.
- Or was her phone turned off for non-payment? I was nervous. - Mobile communication is an expensive pleasure for an elderly person.
For several days we were in alarm, then we ran into the colonel, demanding that he find Martha.
– And how to do it? - Alexander Mikhailovich fought back. - You know that her number is not determined.
“We need to start from the name,” I advised. - Martha is not Tatyana or Natalya for you. I doubt there are many women with that name registered in the capital. Or this. Degtyarev! Get us a list of Marthas that are in our city, I will cut off everyone who is under forty, and run through the addresses ...
Alexander Mikhailovich grimaced.
- You misread Smolyakova, so you are talking nonsense. The list won't give you anything. A lot of people are registered at one address, but live at another. And this aunt, quite possibly, is not a resident of the capital at all. What if she's calling from, say, Peter? Has it ever occurred to you why the old woman, who easily recognizes your phone numbers after you change them, has never come to visit us? Such after all and the address on time-two will find out. Suddenly she lives in Novosibirsk? Then, thank God, she can’t afford to buy a ticket. Otherwise, Martha would have appeared with us long ago.
Here I thought about it. And really, for what reason the old woman has not visited us yet? And where to look for it?
But after a couple of weeks, grandma called us again, and the family was delighted: she is alive and well. And since then I was convinced that the poor thing was not a Muscovite, and began to talk to her even more affectionately. It was a pity for Martha, who spends a penny pension on long-distance calls.
And here you are! The candidate for witches did infiltrate Lozhkino, bringing with her a bunch of all sorts of junk. But she, it seems, is not poor at all - pretty earrings sparkle in the ears of the intruder, and on her finger there is a ring to go with them. And Marfa's clothes are fashionable, and the bag is not at all cheap, and the shoes. But most importantly, she is not a pensioner, but a pretty young blonde. Here is the poor poor old woman...
“I ordered a broom on the Internet,” the guest chirped in the meantime, “there is a special Magic store there.” Look how comfortable, foldable. It’s not very comfortable to walk around with an ordinary broom, people ask stupid questions: “Why do you need a whisk?” And how to explain to them that witches fly with her help?
- True, I have not yet learned how to fly like a witch, I can’t do it. An Internet saleswoman explained, "The aircraft runs on the power of thought." But no matter how much I think: "I'm rising into the sky," nothing comes out. I really hope, Felix, that you will teach me. Let's try this at midnight, shall we? On Bald Mountain.
What mountain would you like to try flying on? – I was taken aback.
“Oh, I’ll never believe that the supreme sorceress doesn’t know about the covens,” Martha laughed.
I guessed you were here! - suddenly shouted another unfamiliar female voice, and a slender brunette ran into the dining room. - Horror in what position Martha has put me!
- Who are you? Felix asked in surprise.
“Veronika Balabanova,” the stranger replied.
I, taken aback by the number of unexpected guests, tried to pull myself together.
“If you, too, have decided to become a witch, then I ask you to leave our house. The Institute of Noble Sorceresses does not work here.
Veronica pressed her hands to her chest.
“Forgive me, Daria, such stupidity will never occur to me. Excuse me, I'm not from the detachment of fools who dream of finding happiness with the help of magic.
- Do we know each other? I was surprised.
- In absentia, - said Balabanova and explained: - You are friends with Nastya Tsvetkova, she asked you if anyone in Lozhkino rented a cottage.
- Right. How do you know? I was surprised. - Nastya herself settled in Pronin a long time ago, it's a couple of kilometers from here, but there is a small village, only ten owners and everything is in place. Ours is much larger, and I gave Nastya several addresses. We have empty houses on Spruce, Autumn, Central streets.
- I occupied the cottage on Elovaya, - Veronica smiled. - I did a project for Tsvetkova, I am the owner of the Fashion Beauty advertising agency and somehow complained that I couldn’t find a decent house for myself, so she turned to you.
- Ahh, - I was delighted, - Nastya brought a new product to the market - frozen cutlets, so she was looking for someone who could make her a commercial, but everyone demanded a lot of money. Tsvetkova was depressed, then she came to me satisfied, showed the recording and explained: “The creator of the video is the Fashion Beauty agency. Excellent firm. Their price is also rather big, but lower than others. And look what a girl
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involved - just a beauty! The actress was really pretty. Nastya praised you. That's just the name of the cutlets was strange - "The Joy of the Family", or something.
“Happiness is in the house,” Balabanova laughed. I agree, it sounds pretty stupid. But I did not come up with it, but the customer. Nastya told me that Dasha Vasilyeva gave her the addresses in Lozhkino, so thanks to you I got a wonderful house for rent. That's why I said that we know each other in absentia. Excuse me, please, I know that Martha is… uh…
Felix, who had been slowly backing towards the door for the past few minutes, disappeared into the corridor. The witch candidate rushed after him with a cry:
- Stop! What time do I need to arrive at Lysaya Gora today?
“You are so calm,” Veronica admired. - And I would definitely crack an impudent person on the head with that coffee pot!
Hearing the last phrase, I remembered the hospitality:
- Sit down please! Do you want some tea?
- With pleasure, - Balabanova answered and sat opposite Gennady.
- Of course, - Balabanova answered, - this is my business.
- So, did you make Happiness in the House cutlets? Gena did not calm down.
“Not the product itself, just the video,” Veronica chuckled.
“You employ very beautiful actresses,” said Pogodin. – My name is Gennady, I am the owner of the Park of Progress entertainment and scientific complex.
– Is that how? Nick was delighted. - I was there in the cinematography pavilion, and I liked it.
For about five minutes I listened to the dialogue between Gena and Veronica. Seeing that they were engaged in a conversation with each other, I went into the corridor and called:
The housekeeper didn't answer.
I increased the sound volume:
- Ira! Where are you?
- Are you looking for someone? asked Pogodina's secretary, who followed me out.
“My au pair,” I explained. “And where did she go?” Outsiders freely enter the mansion, and there is no one to prepare tea for guests ...
“I can easily cope with this task,” Nina interrupted me, “just tell me where the tea leaves are.”
“It’s not about the tea,” I sighed. - I just had a question: what is Ira doing now? For the past few years, she has lived with Masha in our house near Paris, has gained laziness from the French and disappears into the air when you need to work.
Are Parisians lazy? Pogodin's assistant was surprised.
I shrugged.
- It seems not, and yet ... In a cafe there you will have to wait for an order for a very long time, and if you get angry, you will hear from the waiter: "Madame, I'm not sleeping, I'm busy." And you will get the same answer in the store, trying to attract the attention of the seller. My stylist Vadik sobbed when he heard that his colleague Mark, who combs Masha and me in Paris, works from ten in the morning until six in the evening, has two days off and never makes appointments for clients at one in the afternoon, because at this time every Frenchman certainly sits down to dinner . Vadyusha plows from seven in the morning until the last client, he has a free day on the first of January and nothing more. And he does not dream of lunch, as well as breakfast and dinner. Vadik is used to grabbing something on the fly, because he does not have a break between visitors. By the way, if you are going to Paris on Sunday evening to get your hair done, then most of the salons will be closed. And while doing the styling, there is nothing to hope for at the same time for a manicure. To cover your nails with varnish - I emphasize, just cover - you have to go to the studio where the Chinese women work. And for a full-fledged procedure, you need to step into an institution with a sign "Medical Services".
“Go crazy,” Nina said in surprise.
“Yes,” I nodded. - In Moscow, things are much better with this. For the sake of their client, our masters will stay at work at least all night, and Mark, hearing once that I need to comb my hair at five forty-five in the evening, replied: “Oh, madam, you are my favorite client, but you have hair for five dogs, I won’t be able to do it before eighteen.” And that's it! For no amount of money will Mark stay even until a quarter past seven... I'll go look for Ira.
“Don't worry, I'll make good tea,” Nina promised. - Actually, I'm a normal worker, I'm just scared to death of Mr. Pogodin. How he looks! When I look at him, my knees buckle in horror.
“Gennady is not an evil person,” I explained, “just an angry and perfectionist. It's not about bad character or bad upbringing. He grew up in a boarding school, where the evil director reigned, there were thieving staff and bullying flourished.
Nina clutched her cheeks with her hands.
- Oh, I didn't know!
- I told you about Pogodin's difficult childhood so that you understand: the key to his heart is the perfect fulfillment of his duties. As a child, Gena was beaten because he got fours, carelessly made the bed, greeted the elders in a wrong way. The boy turned out to be tenacious, smart, stubborn. He grew up, became a successful businessman and now requires impeccable service from his subordinates,” I explained.
“It must be hard to live with him,” Nina sighed.
- On the contrary, - I smiled, - in terms of food, cleaning the house and other things, Gennady is absolutely not picky. You really try not to confuse more folders.
Nina grabbed my hand.
- Thanks for the advice! I'll do my best! Mr. Pogodin pays very well.
"He's not greedy," I agreed. - If you work together, he will get used to you, and you to him, then it will become easier. Although the degree of Gena's perfectionism will not decrease.
Nina nodded and ran into the dining room. And I went to look for Ira.
I found the housekeeper in the utility room, she stood with her back to the door at the ironing board. Ira did not react to my call, I had to go up to her and shake her by the shoulder.
- Ay! Hut, turn your back to me, back to the forest!
- Attande un minutes, or okkupe. Tre! Irka muttered, not taking her eyes off the working TV.
- And the last number ... forty-eight! yelled the leader in a tailcoat, pulling a red ball out of a transparent drum.
Irka slammed her fist on the board.
- Yes, to break you! I didn't guess again!
- Do you play the lottery? – I was indignant.
Ira turned around. She looked like she was drunk.
- Bonjour! Kes ke wu wule?
Living for several years in France, Irka learned to babble in a foreign language. Her pronunciation is disgusting, her grammar is lame on both legs, but the housekeeper negotiated with local shopkeepers without any problems. Irina even managed to find a common language with a local plumber. And those who have dealt with the public services of the city of Paris and the suburbs know very well: locksmiths are ghosts who, having promised to come on a rainy autumn Friday to fix a pipe flowing in the kitchen, appear in late spring and report that your problem cannot be fixed, the whole system in the house, including the heating, needs to be replaced. So, after Irka talked a couple of times with Monsieur Stefano, he began to run to us once a week just like that, for a preventive examination.
When I told my friend Henriette about this, she said incredulously:
“Honey, no one will believe your lies even on April Fools’ Day.” For a plumber to come without being called? Hurry, our baker
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lower the price of Saturday baking!
Yes, I was confused myself. Well, why did Irka charm Stefano so much? Do you think cupid is involved in history? No matter how! Irina is married, Vanya also works for us, he lived with his wife in Paris, however, unlike his wife, Ivan can only pronounce “Guten Tag!” in a foreign language, since he studied German at school. You understand that this phrase will not help him to communicate with the Frenchman Stefano. But - what a surprise! - Ira, Vanya and Stefano could laugh merrily in the kitchen for more than an hour. They understood each other perfectly.
“Kes ke wu vule?” the housekeeper repeated at length.
“Don’t you dare play the lottery,” I ordered Ira.
She blinked, shook her head, and began to justify herself:
- Yes, I just watched, did not call them at the studio, did not place a bet. I was ironing clothes, accidentally got on this channel and just looked for a second.
“In that “second” you turned into a zombie, and a bunch of strangers managed to enter the house,” I grumbled with displeasure.
There was a roar, then a ringing and a woman's scream.
- Broke it!
Irka and I rushed to the sound, ran to the dining room, saw a puddle of spilled tea on the floor, the ruins of a teapot, and Nina and Marfa shaking. The last one was frequent:
- She brought tea and - plop! We stayed here with her. Your guest kept interrogating Nika, some actress interested him very much, he directly stuck to Balabanova: “Tell me her name, give me her address.” And Nina was busy with the kettle in the kitchen. Balabanova eventually gave the name of that girl, but did not give her phone number. Gennady began to demand it, right down the tank. Just then, Nina was bringing tea, and your guest cornered Balabanova: “Give me the address and phone number of the actress! I'll pay any money!" And she…
“Well, she dropped the teapot,” the secretary whispered. Then she pointed at Khuchik: “I ran into this cute dog and fell. Good thing the dog didn't get hurt. Gennady Alekseevich promised to fire me, called me nasty ...
“She poured tea leaves for me,” Martha chirped, “she decided to put the teapot in the center of the table, started to go around it and – slap!” Your friend is so angry! Wow, straight up creepy!
The candidate for witches took a mug and began to drink, saying:
- Great tea.
- Where is Pogodin? I asked.
“He ran after Veronica,” Nina sobbed.
“Ira, quickly wipe the puddle,” I ordered. – And you, Nina, immediately stop killing yourself because of nonsense. Gennady won't kick you out, I'll talk to him. The puddle will dry up.
“The dark spot will remain, the carpet will be light,” Martha remarked.
“Nonsense,” I waved it off, “Athena has already pissed on him a hundred times, the carpet is used to it, you won’t frighten him with tea.
Ten days have passed. It's strange, but Garik didn't come anymore, he didn't demand money for the production of cork cups. I quietly rejoiced: did he really postpone his "brilliant" idea. But Marfa came running to us for three days in a row with the question: “Well, when will Felix take me to Bald Mountain?” In the end, I found out on the guards the phone of the house, which was filmed by Nika, connected with Balabanova, told her about Medvedeva's visits and asked to protect us from the uninvited guest.
“God, forgive me, please, I’ll stop this disgrace right now,” she wailed.
I don’t know what arguments Veronica found, but we didn’t see the crazy girl again.
And now, ten days after we met Martha, I was awakened at night by a phone call. I fumbled with my hand on the bedside table, grabbed my mobile and whispered:
There was no sound in reply.
– Speak! I got angry.
And again she heard nothing.
“Great idea,” I hissed, “it’s a lot of fun to wake a person up in the middle of the night and be silent.”
The bell rang again. I stopped. Where is the sound coming from? The pipe is in my hand, and there is silence in it.
The trill rushed through the house again, and only then did it dawn on me: the call was not coming from the phone, someone was standing on the threshold of the mansion and ringing the doorbell.
Trying not to wake the peacefully snoring Felix, I got out of bed and ran barefoot towards the stairs. I went down the steps and yelled - a fat bear loomed at the door to the hallway, which, seeing me, stretched out its paws and croaked:
- Don't be afraid, it's me.
“I’m not afraid of you at all,” I said, trying to cope with the trembling in my voice, “I adore bears. But how did you get into our house? Came from the forest? I did not assume that bears were found in the Moscow region, I thought you live in Siberia.
“Dasha, it’s me,” Toptygin repeated and took a couple of steps towards me.
In the blink of an eye, I darted under the stairs and hid in the pantry located there, where a supply of toilet paper and other nonsense is stored. The closet door shook.
“Stop being idiotic,” Toptygin ordered displeasedly. - I found time to break a comedy, come out.
Continuing to sit silently, I realized that I had committed an incredible stupidity. The door is flimsy and locks not from the inside, but from the outside. Now the predator will guess to pull the handle, and here I am in front of him in all its glory. Well, of course, I, as always, took a shower in the evening and smeared myself with a cream with the smell of honey, so I am a tasty morsel for a bear. True, I weigh forty-five kilos, there is not enough meat, but the bones, like all people, are a complete set, two hundred and six pieces. And what animal does not like to gnaw on calluses?
The sash swung open, a shaggy figure with a round head, on which large ears could be seen, appeared in the opening. I grabbed a spray can from a shelf, put it forward and pressed the sprayer.
- Lost her mind? the bear got angry. - It's a dirty trick for wiping windows. Wow, it's banana flavored! Pah, pah!
The bear began to spit and rub his face with his paws.
- With banana flavor? I was surprised. Who would have thought to improve the taste of glass cleaner? Nobody will drink it.
The call was heard again.
“While you are fooling around here, someone is stubbornly rushing into the house,” the predator reproached me.
I was taken aback and only now I am finally fully awake.
- Excuse me, are you human?
- Lost her mind? Toptygin muttered. - It's me, Degtyarev.
At that very moment, I realized: Alexander Mikhailovich was standing in front of me, dressed in a carnival costume, on his head he had a hood, to which his ears were sewn. Do you want to ask why I didn’t realize before that the bear has the face of a colonel? Well, I have a counter question: do you think well if you wake up in the middle of the night? Personally, my brain does not activate immediately after sleep, it takes time, so to speak, to warm up the engine.
Why are you dressed up for New Year's Eve? I asked.
- This is a dressing gown, - Alexander Mikhailovich explained, - Masha gave me the day before yesterday. I tried it on to show Marusya that I was delighted with her present. It turned out to be very comfortable, soft, so today I put it on again. And the head, by the way, is warm.
Degtyarev fell silent, then asked in surprise:
“Hey, did you mistook me for a real bear?”
“Of course not,” I lied.
- Why then did she hide under the stairs and splash all sorts of rubbish at me? the Colonel laughed. - That's exhausting! No one will believe when I tell you that Dashencia really mistook me for a beast that came from the forest!
“I was just joking,” I began to fight back.
And my friend, continuing to laugh, moved into the hallway, saying as he went:
- You can't fool me!
I trudged after him, thinking sadly. Well, now Alexander Mikhailovich will happily report to everyone how I
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she considered him a bloodthirsty clubfoot, she would describe all the details of what happened, add something, embellish it, but forget to mention a small detail: it all happened at night, when I was pulled out of a state of deep sleep and I still didn’t really wake up.
Degtyarev opened the door. In the hall with a cry of "Help!" Martha flew in.
In general, I am a peaceful person, but now I really wanted to push the lady out. With great difficulty, I forced myself to affably say:
- Good evening. Or morning? To be honest, I don't know how to call two o'clock in the morning. If you decide to ask my husband the way to Bald Mountain, then he cannot answer now, because he is sleeping.
“No, it’s not about that,” Martha sobbed. - Please, help!
- What should be done? I sighed.
- Shelter me, - the candidate for the sorceress sniffled, - I have nowhere to live.
“You seem to be staying at Veronica’s,” I reminded him.
“I ran away from her,” whispered Martha. - Right in slippers, here, look.
Indeed, on her feet were pantofli in the form of rabbits. It's good that it's May now, warm shoes are unnecessary.
- Did you quarrel with Balabanova? I inquired.
- No. You see, she didn’t see me,” Martha whispered. “It’s like that there ... I was terribly scared ... I just got sick when Nika killed her ...
Degtyarev sniffed the air through his nostrils. I realized in which direction my friend's thoughts were headed, and I sniffed too. But no, there was no smell of alcohol at all, Martha seemed to be sober.
The girl sobbed convulsively and sank down on the ottoman.
- I have nowhere to go. I came to Veronica after I sold my apartment, dacha and shop in anticipation of Moscow real estate. Oh, you see, Nika shot ... Bang-boom! The woman fell... I was frightened and ran away... Where should I go? I don't know anyone here but you.
The Colonel went up to Marfa and put his hand on her shoulder.
- Did you witness the murder?
“Yes, yes, yes,” Medvedeva nodded. I gave her all the money. I don't have a penny! Even for ice cream. I love him very much, that's why I went to the closet.
Alexander Mikhailovich rubbed his neck.
– Dasha, can you make us some fruit tea? Let's sit in the dining room and discuss what happened.
I yawned.
- Certainly. I'll brew now.
About ten minutes later, when Marfa received a cup of drink from my hands, Degtyarev asked her:
- Tell everything from the egg.
- From an egg? Martha repeated in confusion. - I never had chickens, only a cat, but for a long time.
“Alexander Mikhailovich means that you need to state everything from the very beginning,” I explained. What happened at Veronica's house? Whom did she kill?
Of course, I didn’t doubt for a second that Martha had invented this whole story, she just wants to live in our house as a guest in order to be closer to Felix, who, according to Medvedeva, will teach her to fly on a broomstick. Degtyarev also did not seem to be alarmed. Otherwise, he would have already rushed to the mansion rented by Balabanova, calling his brigade on the go.
- State from the beginning? Martha stated.
“Preferably,” the colonel nodded, “otherwise it will be difficult to understand what's what.
- I was born in one thousand nine hundred ... - started the guest.
“I’d rather ask questions,” Degtyarev decided to take the reins of the conversation into his own hands. - Who was killed in Balabanova's house?
“Well… first I saw Veronica dead,” Martha whispered, “and then Nika strangled her aunt in her bedroom.
Yeah, so Nika strangled someone. And a couple of minutes ago, an uninvited guest was talking about a shot. Inconsistency in statements.
“So…” drawled Alexander Mikhailovich. - Did you find the body of Balabanova?
Martha closed her eyes.
- Yes! Horror! I almost died of fear! Then she ran down the corridor. In complete darkness, mobile illuminated the road. I hear a scream from the bedroom. The door opened a crack, and there ... Horror! Nika is strangling her...
“Interesting,” I said. - If I understand you correctly, then first you found the corpse of your friend, and then she came to life and took the life of some woman?
“Yes, yes, that’s right,” the guest nodded.
Maybe it was the other way around? the colonel sighed. - At first, Balabanova dealt with someone, and then someone killed her? It's more logical that way.
I kicked my friend under the table in the leg. Doesn't he understand that Marfa is lying? She wants to live with us in order to force Felix to turn her into a witch. This madam has big problems with her head, she needs the help of a psychologist. Or even a psychiatrist.
“She lay there in the snow,” whispered Martha, “and smiled.
I wonder where in May you can find snow in the suburbs? Especially if the yard is unusually warm for spring, yesterday the thermometer showed plus thirty.
Why did I just go for ice cream? the guest sobbed. “Now I wouldn’t know anything, I would sleep peacefully!”
I started. Where can you find snow in May? In a refrigerator! The same thought occurred to Degtyarev, and he stared at Marfa.
“Did you find the body in the freezer?”
- In the farthest one, which Nika strictly forbade me to open, - the guest confirmed, - in a closet where you can’t go. You won't let me tell you in order!
“Very well,” the Colonel surrendered, “tell me in detail.
- From the chicken? – said Medvedev.
“Yes,” agreed the fat man. - Straight from the hen!
Marfa was born and raised in the small town of Bugaysk near Moscow, the entire population of which worked in a factory where bed linen was produced. The most important boss there was her mother. The local mayor and all the rest of the leadership jumped up and pulled themselves to attention when Evdokia Timofeevna Medvedeva entered the building in which their bureaucratic offices were located. Can you guess how the queen's daughter was treated in the local kindergarten, and then at school? The girl was brought up as a crown princess, everyone bowed to her from the waist, and most of the parents ordered their offspring to be friends with Martha. At the birthday parties of the younger Medvedeva, an army of guests danced, and a tower to the ceiling was built from expensive gifts. But Marfa did not like the crowd, she grew up as a quiet child, who loved to read fairy tales more than anything else. But her mother told her to be friends with those guys whose parents, for various reasons, were needed by the factory director. The only girl with whom the daughter of Evdokia Timofeevna spent time of her own free will was Veronika Balabanova.
To be honest, Nika could not be considered a suitable company for the heiress of Medvedeva herself. Balabanova grew up in a dysfunctional family, she was raised by a single mother. True, the Balabanovs did not feel bad right away. Lidia Alekseevna was in charge of the local library, and Sergei Petrovich was the head of the motor depot. He sometimes drank a glass on Sundays, and during dinner he knocked over a glass, but no one saw him lying in a ditch. Lidia Alekseevna did not even touch cider, homemade apple wine with a strength of two degrees. But everything changed after the unexpected death of Balabanov.
For six months, the widow turned into an alcoholic, she used the bottle with enviable constancy, completely forgetting that she had a daughter. Nika, when her mother fell dead drunk on the sofa, ran to her friend, and the Medvedevs always had a lot of yummy in the refrigerator. Zinaida Efimovna, Martha's nanny, took pity on the orphan, always fed her, gave the girl dresses that she no longer wanted to wear.
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pupil.
Having sobered up, Lydia recalled the existence of a daughter, came to Medvedev with the question: “Is mine, by any chance, not with you?” - and received a harsh reprimand from the nanny.
In the nineties, the bed linen factory closed, the local population was left without work and quickly turned into beggars. People could not sell apartment houses, go to Moscow, get a job trading there on the market. They had no savings, housing in Bugaysk cost a penny, even a small room in a communal apartment could not be purchased for the proceeds from the sale in the capital. Well, who might need a living space in Bugaysk?
Why didn’t the local people go to the capital to work, as did the inhabitants of almost all the settlements adjacent to the metropolis? The main word in the previous sentence is "nearby". Bugaysk is located on the border with the Tver region. The owners of all Moscow small retail outlets, the owners of the stalls, demanded that the sellers get up behind the counter at six-thirty in the morning so as not to miss the buyers who are in a hurry to work. A Muscovite can wake up at five, be at the appointed time at the workplace and start trading on time. And what should a person from Bugaysk do? The first train left the town for the capital at six. It was possible, of course, to rent a corner in Butovo, but after all, you would give all your earnings for it.
At first, the local people were confused, then they began to live off the garden and some crafts. Women sewed, knitted, once a month they went to Moscow to sell their products, some got a job as a nanny, a housekeeper with accommodation, men were hired on construction sites, road works. But Evdokia Timofeevna was the first to open a supermarket in Bugaysk, began to sell food, clothes, every little thing, and succeeded.
Girlfriends received certificates of secondary education, and Nika suggested to Martha:
- Let's go to Moscow to live forever.
- For what? Medvedeva Jr. got scared.
“There are more opportunities in the capital,” Balabanova answered. - What awaits us in Bugaysk? Marriage to a freak or a bottle like my mother.
“You don’t speak badly of the dead,” Martha sighed.
What good can be said about her? Veronica asked and pulled up her jacket. - You forgot about the scar? Who poked a burning cigarette at me? Mommy beloved! She died, okay. A separate “thank you” to the drunk for going to the next world when I was already sixteen, so the threat of shelter disappeared. I've thought of everything. Evdokia Timofeevna will lend us money. Hear what we'll do...
The idea, which was voiced by a friend, captured Marfa, and the girls rushed to the elder Medvedeva. Nika laid out her business plan in front of her. There is an agency in Moscow that hires girls of seventeen to twenty years old to work abroad as animators. Entertaining vacationers is a simple matter, especially since they first offer three months to study at free courses. Then you will be sent to some resort for a year, you will have to live in a hotel, food and a room are free. The salary is solid, five to seven thousand dollars a month, and even tips to boot. Martha and Veronika will make good money, return to Moscow, buy apartments for themselves ... and start publishing a fashion magazine.
Evdokia Timofeevna listened without interrupting Veronica's passionate speech and asked:
- What do you need from me?
“Money to rent an apartment in the capital, for food, transport,” Balabanova began to bend her fingers. We'll return later.
- Where did you find a company that offers such favorable conditions? the supermarket owner asked the next question.
“On the Internet,” Balabanova explained. – There are many organizations there, I chose the most reputable one, it has a license from the government, there is a photo of it on the website.
- All right, - Evdokia Timofeevna nodded, - go home, I need to think. Business is now in decline, there are almost no free funds.
When Nika ran away, her mother ran into Martha:
- Only over my dead body! Nika is up to no good! You will not find yourself in any hotel, seven thousand dollars a month for dances around the pool are not given. Yes, you fools will be taken abroad, but as prostitutes.
“You are mistaken, mother,” the daughter tried to argue, “this is an agency with a good reputation.
- Never! – cut Evdokia. - Dot! Stop talking nonsense. It's time for you to stop beating your thumbs and thinking about nonsense, harness yourself to the family business. Tomorrow you will go to Moscow, I have problems with suppliers. The bus leaves at four in the morning, you must arrive at the base no later than seven. Now I will explain what to do. Here is the phone, Vera Ivanovna will take you to stay.
- Will I have to live in the capital for a long time? Martha was scared.
“As many as you need,” the mother did not flinch. “Did you decide that I would continue to pull the family wagon by myself?” It's time for you to grow up and start working.
Marfa stayed in Moscow for two weeks. And when she returned, she found out that Nika had left Bugaysk. The thread that had connected Balabanova and Medvedev from childhood broke. Veronica sunk into the water, there was no information about her.
Martha missed her only friend very much, later she tried to find her using the Internet, but to no avail. She did not know Balabanova's phone number; Nika did not have a mobile in Bugaysk.
As the years passed, Marfa worked as a saleswoman for her mother in a store. She did not marry - there was no worthy man. Life in Bugaisk slowly improved, a couple of entrepreneurs reopened a factory there, hired Evdokia Timofeevna as a manager. The city grew and even got prettier. But only Martha understood: there was no future for her here. She really wanted to get married, have a baby, but the suitors did not loom on the horizon, but the clock was ticking. She spent her free evenings on the Internet - climbing other people's accounts and crying quietly. All women had a beautiful personal life, they had their own apartments, cars, fashionable clothes, spent time in cafes, had fun with friends, played weddings, did not need money ... And what about her? Grocery store? Evening at the laptop?
“You should go for a walk,” the mother said to her daughter. Why stay at home on weekends?
Martha was used to not arguing with her parent, so she dressed silently, went out into the street and - froze. Where to go? There are no girlfriends. In the supermarket, besides her, four more women worked, but they were well over forty, each family, they talked about culinary recipes, children, mothers-in-law. Marfa could not support any of the topics; she did not have good relations with her colleagues.
After standing on the street, the girl wandered to the cinema, watched a movie and returned home.
– Did you have a good time? mother asked.
- Very! Martha lied. - I had fun from the bottom of my heart, my friends and I were in a cafe.
A year ago, two events happened in her life - Evdokia Timofeevna suddenly died and the store passed to Martha. And six months later, when she became the legitimate heiress, Veronica unexpectedly found her.
Medvedeva once tried to contact Nika, then she realized that she could not find a friend, and stopped searching. And suddenly! Entering her account in the evening, where there were no friends, Martha saw that a certain “Fashion beauty” had subscribed to her. She was surprised, opened the message, read it and cried with joy. Nick found it! Balabanova appeared at the most difficult hour, when Martha, having lost her mother, felt completely alone, useless, uninteresting. On her even in
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Nobody paid attention to the Internet, and in the phone book of Martha's mobile there were only a few numbers: saleswomen from the store, mother and nanny Zinaida Efimovna, whom Evdokia Timofeevna, becoming the manager of the factory again, made the director of her supermarket.
And here comes Veronica!
Nika strenuously invited Marfa to Moscow. Balabanova lived very well, owned an advertising agency, filmed videos, earned a lot.
“Stop rotting in Bugaysk,” she wrote, “sell the apartment with all its contents, the shop, the dacha, and come to me. I will get you a decent job, find a husband, I know a lot of single rich guys.
But Marfa did not dare. On the one hand, she really wanted to become a happy wife and mother of two lovely children, a girl and a boy. But on the other hand, it was scary - how is it, to sell everything and go to Moscow?
Zinaida Efimovna, whom Martha asked for advice, answered as she cut him off:
- Lost her mind? How many years did you not communicate with Nika?
“A lot,” her pupil sighed.
“Now think about it,” the former nanny continued, “why Veronica didn’t appear before, and now suddenly, here it is, erupted.
“She couldn’t find me,” Martha explained.
- Are you hiding? Zinaida Efimovna screwed up her eyes. - Hiding on the Internet under a false name or nickname?
“No,” the girl laughed. - For what? I'm Marfa Medvedeva there with my photo. But trust me, a person on the Web is not so easy to spot. I didn't find Nick.
“So your friendship is called something stupid,” the former nanny grimaced, “fi ... fe ...
“Fashion beauty,” Martha prompted.
“Well, a word,” the old woman remarked disapprovingly. - Beauty is, of course, good, but this ... fish ... what is it all about?
“The world of fashion,” the girl explained. - Nika publishes an online magazine with that name. I saw it, very interesting.
Nanny crossed her arms over her chest.
- You should have told the truth a long time ago, but Evdokia Timofeevna did not want you to know, and I was silent. Why do you think Veronica was raised by her mother alone?
“Her husband, Nika's father, is dead,” Martha explained. Why are you asking? Everyone knows about his death.
"That's right," nodded Zinaida Efimovna. - But Sergei did not die when my daughter went to first grade, but later, she was already thirteen years old.
“You are confusing,” the pupil objected.
“Well, no,” the former nanny threw up her chin. - When Nika's mother lied that her father had left for the next world, he was actually arrested. For fraud. Balabanov took money from people, promising to sell them a car at the factory price, and at the beginning of the scam, he gave the car to the buyer for ridiculous rubles. He opened an office in the capital, people flowed into his office like a river, Sergey grabbed millions and disappeared. Threw everyone. He also abandoned his family. But anyway, he was found, convicted, sent to jail. And very correctly - do not steal! In the zone, he picked up tuberculosis, burned out quickly.
"You're wrong," Martha shook her head. - Some of the neighbors would have let slip about the prison, but not a single person uttered a word about the arrest. Everyone said: Balabanov suddenly died, died, he was crushed by a train in the subway.
Zinaida Efimovna smiled.
- So this is Lidka, Nicky's mother, she cheated the people. They called her from the Moscow police, she went to the city, she found out the truth about her hubby-swindler. When I came back, I was smart enough not to tell anyone. Only she came to Evdokia Timofeevna and laid out everything as it was, fell at her feet, asked for money for a lawyer. Your mother gave her ten thousand dollars. But the lawyer did not help, Sergey left for the zone. Lydia told everyone that he had fallen off the platform and was in a coma in the capital. And when the verdict was announced, her husband was declared dead and began to drink. The debt, of course, was not returned. Yes, your mother did not expect a refund. Evdokia Timofeevna seemed stern in appearance, but in her soul she was compassionate. Well, a few years later Balabanov really died. Lidka was lucky, no one found out the truth. Here's what I'm wondering: did she reveal the truth to Nike, or is she still in the dark? Even if so, it turns out: Sergey is a swindler, Veronica is at least distant to him, but a relative, genetics cannot be brushed off with a napkin.
“The daughter cannot be called a distant relative,” Martha corrected.
A strange expression appeared on Zinaida Efimovna's face, the old woman shrugged her shoulders.
- You don’t have children yet, and when you give birth to your own, bring up, then you will understand: very often your own offspring are further than strangers. But I actually wanted to say something else. Don't you understand that there are a lot of lies on the Internet? Irina, our saleswoman, has her daughter photographed against the backdrop of other people's cars and in expensive clothing stores, then she writes under the pictures: “They gave me new wheels,” “I am buying another fur coat.” She really doesn't have any of that. I think Veronica is the same swindler as Sergey. I suppose she found you a long time ago, saw the photo, but was not going to show up. Why are you Balabanova? What could be taken from you? And now... Admit it, you wrote in your computer that you became your mother's heiress, received all her property?
“Yes,” Martha smiled shyly, “I keep a diary there. Frank. But I have no subscribers, I write for myself. It becomes easier on the soul when you throw out the experiences at least somewhere.
- That's stupidity! the nanny fumed. “I'm sure that's why Nika appeared on your horizon, circling like a hawk over a chicken. Oh, she will eat you! Surely the girl needs your money.
The naive Martha burst into tears, and Zinaida Efimovna told her:
- Stay in Bugaysk. You have a nice apartment here, a dacha, a shop.
“I want to get married,” Martha whispered, “but you can’t find a groom in our city.”
“Men are nothing but trouble,” the elderly woman grimaced. - God forbid, you get pregnant from a dear friend, and he runs away, you will have to suffer alone with the baby. Better enjoy your life.
Poor Martha found herself between two fires. Every day Nika called her to the capital, wrote that she would certainly arrange the fate of her friend in the best possible way. And Zinaida Efimovna constantly said:
- The swindler will rob you and throw you in the trash. She is all in Sergei, her father, - in her time, before leaving for Moscow, she borrowed money from people, albeit small amounts, but so far has not returned a penny to anyone.
Marfa did not know anything about Nika's debts, so she asked her if Zina was telling the truth.
Veronica was outraged:
- Lies! Who could give me even a penny, except your mother? Yes, only Evdokia Timofeevna refused. Do you know why Zinaida turns you against me? She has a nephew.
“Vitya,” Marfa confirmed. - And what?
- Where is he now? Balabanova continued.
- Works in St. Petersburg. By whom - I have no idea, - Martha explained, - he has not come to Bugaysk for a long time.
- Your naivety is boundless, no matter what they say, you believe everything! Nick laughed. - Vitya is a drug addict, he is sitting on a needle. We need money for his treatment, and your ex-nanny wants to take it from you. And I don’t need your pennies, I am the owner of a multi-million dollar business. When Zinaida starts begging you for thousands, ask her: “What, is your nephew going back to the old one again? Do you want to put him in the clinic? Aren't you tired of making a man out of Victor?
Nika seemed to have psychic abilities. Literally the next day, Zinaida Efimovna turned to
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pupil with a request to lend her money to repair the apartment. And Martha asked her a question advised by Veronica. The former nanny burst into tears, then shouted:
- It's all not true!
There was an ugly scene.
When Zinaida Efimovna ran away in tears, Marfa decided to write to Nike. I opened my laptop and in the news feed of the social network I found a message about the society "Witches of the Moscow Region" ...
The girl interrupted the story, grabbed a paper napkin from the table, pressed it to her eyes and began to sob.
- I understood right away: if I become a sorceress, I will get everything that I lack. I began to write to the professor, to ask him. At first he did not answer, then the answer came: "Sorry, it was a joke, such an organization does not exist." It is clear that he lied, did not want to take me ...
Medvedeva shook.
- And then I decided: I sell everything and move to Moscow, I will live with Veronica and look for Manevin. And when I find it, I will kneel before him ... So I ended up in the village of Lozhkino. And then it turned out that the professor was Nika's neighbor in the village. Incredible luck! Dasha, do you understand what happiness is?
Marfa grabbed my wrist, and I shuddered - for a second it seemed to me that my hand was burned by fire, the guest's fingers were so hot.
- You have fever? I asked.
“No, I feel great,” Medvedev assured.
Degtyarev was tired of listening to her biography, he decided to find out what happened to Balabanova.
- So, you came to Nika, settled in her house, then came to Daria to beg Manevin to accept you into the society "Witches of the Moscow Region" ...
“No,” said Martha suddenly. And she began to explain: - There, in the sense of the organization, they take only sorcerers, but I still don’t know how. I want to study at the Academy of Magic, which is open to society. But they tell me that it is possible only in absentia. And I want to! Because the professor himself and the best Baba Yogis teach there!
“Baba-yogi…” I echoed. - But my husband does not lecture to evil spirits!
“Dasha, wait,” Alexander Mikhailovich asked me. “Martha, what happened at Nicky’s cottage today?”
Medvedeva shook her head.
- I can’t tell so chaotically, it’s necessary in order. So listen. I sold everything in Bugaysk: an apartment, a shop, a dacha. Got good money. Oh, and it was scary when they were brought here! Suddenly, who will guess that I have such values \u200b\u200bwith me?
She paused.
“It’s good that Nika rushed after me,” Marfa continued.
I started.
Did Veronica accompany you?
- Yes, - the interlocutor nodded, - she was waiting for me at the station. I got to the platform with Uncle Kolya, he delivered food to the store in his truck, and Nika and I got on the train. In the carriage, she took my bag from me, put it between us and ordered: “Don’t be idiotic, sit as if nothing had happened.” And in Moscow she carried it herself. And I immediately hid it in Lozhkino.
- Balabanova has a car, - I was surprised, - I saw her driving. Why didn't she come for you? It is dangerous to travel by public transport with a large amount of money.
- Yes, she had wheels, - Martha confirmed, - but Nika sold the car, ordered a new one in the salon. And the store let me down, didn’t bring the BMW on time. Only a few days after my arrival, Veronica bought a jeep. So beautiful! White, milky-colored leather interior ... I don’t dare to sit in it directly.
Have you found an apartment for yourself? I asked.
“Veronica is doing this,” Medvedeva explained. - She has a friend, the owner of Investzdaniyamontazh, Nika has already taken me to two houses. But neither she nor I liked the apartment.
- So, I understand about the money, - the colonel stopped Medvedev, - now I want to hear why you ran to us in the middle of the night.
Martha shook. And she began again “in order,” that is, from afar.
- In the evening I washed myself, went to bed. She tossed and turned and tossed and thought to eat ice cream. Nicky has three refrigerators, two in the kitchen, one in the pantry. Balabanova ordered not to approach him, she said there was no food there. But I didn’t find ice cream in the first two, so I decided to look in the closet. Yes, I remembered that you can’t look in there, but I thought: maybe Nika said that precisely because that freezer is full of delicious ice cream, but she doesn’t want to share it? The refrigerator is long, rectangular, it does not have a door, but a lid. I picked it up, and there… Nika. Dead! All in frost! I got scared and ran back to the room. I run along the corridor, illuminate the road with my mobile and hear voices in her bedroom ... I carefully looked in - Veronika is strangling Zinaida. Oh... And Nicky's face is so... I'm shattered to death! Well, one Veronica is in the ice, and the other is killing my nanny ...
- Wait! I asked. - At the beginning of the conversation, you did not say that the nanny who raised you was deprived of her life. And they said that Nika shot.
Medvedeva covered her face with her hands.
- I was so freaked out! To horror! I did not immediately understand whom she decided to send to the next world. And it seemed to me that Nika was shooting. "Bang bang" heard. And then... No, I saw her squeeze her neck. But it was only later, when I found myself with you, that I realized. And later it dawned on me: Balabanova killed Zinaida Efimovna. Hairstyle was like a nanny. And beads. Veronica is crazy! You know, she has been behaving strangely since my arrival. On the way to Moscow, I told her about the “Witches of the Moscow Region” society, asked her to help me find Felix Manevin, explained everything to her. Phone numbers are easy to recognize. My neighbor in Bugaysk works in the office of a mobile operator, and he told me about them once. And I got the address of the professor from the client card. I sent a parcel to him, but it came back. The neighbor explained: “This happens often. Maybe the person changed his place of residence, but he didn’t tell us.” Well, I had to contact Nick. She promised and a day later she said: “I have a friend who will get any information in a minute. So, Manevin left Moscow and works abroad.”
The narrator sighed heavily, as if reliving the failure of her quest again.
- I was terribly upset. Then she asked: “I often talked with him and with members of his family, including by landline number. How did this happen if they were not in Russia?” Veronica explained: “So they just left. And the apartment was rented out. Don't call there anymore, don't bother strangers." Then Nika gave me a computer and suggested: “Look what suitors are here while I go to the store.” And she ran away. And after ten minutes I got bored - the men were all nasty, old, bald. I went out into the yard, I look - Manevin is walking with a dog! I just went numb. Well, it can't be! Does the professor live in Lozhkino? Incredible! Most likely, it's not him, just a similar person. I called out: "Good afternoon, Mr. Manevin, how are you?" The man stopped and smiled. "Hello. Glad to see you. Everything is fine. Here, our dog, as usual, climbed over the fence and fled. Barely caught her. Have a nice day". And entered the house. And I was so confused that I was speechless, I could not continue the conversation. Then she woke up, got dressed and rushed to you. After all, I saw which house Manevin entered - the street is straight, I noticed which gate he opened.
“Mafi likes to run away and climbs over the fence deftly,” I muttered. - And my husband is a polite person, he will always say a couple of friendly phrases if they greet him.
- It turns out, an acquaintance of Veronica
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I made a mistake,” continued Martha, “you didn’t go abroad. Obviously, the professor does not want to communicate with anyone. But I really need it! True, Anastasia Zaduyvetervrylokashu ...
- Who? I jumped.
“The professor's personal secretary, Anastasia,” Marfa explained. - Her last name is funny - Zaduyvetervrylokashu.
“Blow the wind,” I corrected automatically.
- Oh, right! - the guest was confused. “She arranges consultations for the professor himself and for yours. Daria, would you pour me some tea?
- My? – I was surprised and went to the teapot. She took a white cup from the shelf, filled it with a drink and served it to the guest.
“Thank you,” Medvedev smiled. - Well, yes, you are a witch, that's why you work with your husband.
Degtyarev let out a sob. Then issued:
- Daria is not just a witch, she is the leader of the coven.
I got mad at the colonel. Is it possible to joke like that with a mentally ill woman? Felix and Roman have already had fun once, and that's what happened.
“I know,” Martha whispered. - You are a chic Baba Yaga, best of all teach me witch science. So I say: I want to study full-time at the Academy of Magic. And they answer me: "There is no such thing." But I really need it!
I shook my head. It doesn't get any easier from time to time...
– Martha, what kind of consultations are you talking about?
The guest emptied her cup in one gulp and pointed to the iPad, which lay next to the bowl of cookies.
- Your website is there.
“Uh-huh…” I drawled. - Can you open it? You see, I don't know how to use a computer. Anastasia Zaduyvetereyvmozgerkules runs everything for us.
“It's easy,” Martha nodded and sighed. – Can I take your tablet?
I handed the gadget to the guest. Martha began to run her finger across the screen.
– Here, look… This is your page. Do you recognize?
“Mmm, yes,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Beautiful design,” Medvedev praised. - Here is a story about the society and you can see the reviews of visitors, how the witches helped them, they bewitched their work, husband, child ... Now click on the "Help" button ... Read on!
I grabbed my iPad and saw the text on the screen: “If you want to get advice from Professor Manevin, the witch Daria, the oracle Gregory, or someone else from the list, state your problem and send it to us.”
“I sent you thirty letters,” the guest admitted. - I carefully paid and received a recipe for how to lure my husband. I did the ritual with sugar on your advice, but nothing happened. That's why I started calling you - I decided to become a professional witch through full-time training. In absentia, I did not succeed. I must be very dumb. The page is full of testimonials from those who have become a witch with the help of the Internet, and I have a complete failure. In the end, I wrote: "I want to take face-to-face lessons." And I was told that only correspondence is possible, on the Web. But, I repeat, I really need to! The site has very good photos. Felix is simply handsome, and you, Dasha, are such a sweetheart! It's good that you thought of posting the pictures, otherwise I wouldn't have recognized the professor when he was walking around the village.
- At our first meeting, you confused me with Igor, - I reminded.
“It’s from excitement,” Martha was embarrassed. “So glad to see you!” The only pity is that the preparations for the trip to Lysaya Gora take six months. Oh!
Martha covered her mouth with her hand.
- What's happened? the Colonel and I asked in unison.
“I was so scared that I forgot about the condition,” Martha sobbed. - Well, you know ... pills ...
- Which? Degtyarev asked.
- Witches, - whispered Medvedeva, - Daria sent them to me.
Alexander Mikhailovich smiled tenderly.
“I have nothing to do with witches, explain to me.
The guest timidly touched my hand:
- Maybe you yourself?
I quickly came up with an answer:
- No, I want to listen to your story, to make sure that you understood everything correctly.
Martha cringed.
- After I visited you, I kept calling, calling ... And then you handed over a box for me through Nick, and in it are pink pills, round, the letter “W” is drawn on them. Veronica explained: Manevin appreciated my perseverance, decided to train me in person, and then accept me into the society of witches. But without special cleansing of the body, this cannot be done, you must first get rid of toxins. I should have gone to bed at nine in the evening, not eating meat, eating moderately, not using the phone, not communicating with anyone except Balabanova, and taking pills twice a day. The letter "W" on them is from the word "witch". You and Felix are not allowed to meet for six months. If I break this rule, the countdown will start from the beginning.
I listened to a mentally ill girl who, like a mantra, repeated: “They tell me: only distance learning, but I want full-time, I need full-time,” and I was amazed at the wild imagination of Nika Balabanova, who came up with this story. That's why Martha left us alone - she was preparing for the ceremony. I wonder what kind of medicine Medvedev swallows? It's most likely the vitamins.
“And now I’m with you,” Martha sobbed, “I violated the condition. I'll have to read it all over again.
“I think they will forgive you for a few days,” Degtyarev assured.
- Oh thank you! – joyfully chirped the poor fellow. – Daria, you are a very good witch.
“Mmmm,” I muttered.
“You write such simple texts,” Medvedeva continued, “and you don’t charge that much at all. Although, of course, not cheap.
“Yeah,” I snarled, “well, yes, well, yes, consultations cost money. Marfa, before the message about witch pills, we were just discussing Manevin's advice, mine and other specialists. I hope you didn't have any problems with the payment? I mean the way of calculations. How did you transfer money?
“All the details are given here on the site,” Martha explained, pressing her finger on the word “payment”. - Credit card, qiwi wallet, Yandex money, Beeline, paypal ... The price is detailed. The most expensive, of course, Manevin's consultation is five thousand, yours is three, the rest are one and a half pieces. Here is a list of witches. Arina specializes in problems with children, Vanda will help to improve relations in the family ... You paid for a consultation, asked a question - and you receive an answer by mail.
I looked at Degtyarev. He spread his hands, but said nothing.
“It’s very noble that all the money you earn goes to the foundations for helping sick children,” Martha whispered, “not only do you get good advice, but you also do a good deed. You see the message: "Proceeds are sent to charitable addresses, to children with disabilities." Oh, something is stuffy with you ... As if the air had disappeared from the room ...
Martha coughed. I got up and opened the window.
“Put honey in tea,” suggested Degtyarev, “it will stop a cold.”
A few hours later, when expert Leonid left us, taking Marfa's corpse with him, the colonel and I went to Veronica.
- There was a seemingly healthy woman and - once ... died, - I muttered. - I just talked normally, drank tea, and that's it, there is no person. It would be nice if Martha were ninety years old, at that age anything can happen. But she is young!
“Probably a blood clot broke off,” suggested Degtyarev. - Maybe Medvedeva took some medications that increase the viscosity of the blood.
“I decided that Martha had a problem with her head, she looked strange,” I admitted. “What if she was registered with a psychiatrist?” Doctors sometimes prescribe pills to help
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fight the underlying disease, but badly affecting the liver, heart. Did the poor guy have a heart attack?
“Don't guess,” the colonel stopped me, pressing the button on the intercom that hung on the gate. - Panin will understand.
“I was offended by him,” I grimaced.
- For what? - Alexander Mikhailovich did not understand.
I was surprised.
- Didn't you hear Leonid say to his subordinates: “Pack the cup from which Medvedev drank. Be careful, there's leftover tea in there. Should it be sent for toxicological analysis?
“That's right,” the colonel nodded, “poisoning cannot be ruled out.
I was filled with indignation.
– And you there too! Do you really think that I poured poison on the guest? And I believe that you could do it!
“No one can be excluded,” Degtyarev declared without a shadow of a smile. “Sometimes a criminal turns out to be a person whom you can’t even think of.
I silently listened to my friend. Great! The fat man lives with us for many years in the same house, and he, a family member, put me on the list of suspects? Wait for it! I tell Irka to cook oatmeal porridge for breakfast every day - all of us eat it with great pleasure, but Alexander Mikhailovich hates oatmeal. And this is not all revenge, just the beginning! Look me straight in the eye and talk about tea analysis in a cup? Of course, who made tea for Marfa and then poured it? I ... Well, Degtyarev, hold on! Alexander Mikhailovich does not even know what I am capable of if I get angry!
The gate clicked and opened, the colonel and I entered the courtyard and saw Veronica on the porch, dressed in blue jeans and a gray T-shirt.
“Come in,” she suggested. - Would you like to get coffee?
“Unfortunately, we have bad news,” said Degtyarev. - Concerning Martha.
- Yes? Balabanova was surprised. - I thought she was still sleeping - the door to the guest room is closed, the bedroom is quiet. Did your friend come back to you? Again molested Mr. Manevin? I felt like I convinced her not to do it again.
“Marfa came running to us around two in the morning,” I interrupted her.
- I've gone completely crazy! Nick was outraged. - Well, I definitely lost my head! Please don't be angry. You see, Martha lived all her life under the yoke of her mother ...
“She died,” Degtyarev finally decided to tell.
- Yes, yes, - Veronika nodded, - Evdokia Timofeevna died, so I managed to persuade my friend ...
“Martha went to the other world,” Alexander Mikhailovich specified.
A smile suddenly appeared on the face of our counterpart, which literally in a moment was replaced by an angry expression.
- Are you joking? But, sorry, this is a very stupid joke.
- Alas, no, we are not up to fun, - the colonel sighed, - your friend died at our table.
Balabanova grabbed the joint with her hand.
- Died? Martha? What are you talking about? Yesterday she calmly went to bed ... Why did she suddenly rush to you at night? What happened?
“Let’s sit down and talk,” I said.
Veronica stepped aside.
- Come in. God! Marfusha! It just can't be. No, I don't believe it... It's not true!
Hearing from us a detailed story, Veronica stood up.
Martha had problems. And I will tell you about them. But if she decided to eat ice cream at night and opened the refrigerator, which, according to her, looks like a chest, then she actually saw a body there.
- Dead body? - said the colonel.
I dug my fingers into the arms of the chair. So ... Medvedev was not quite mentally healthy, and Balabanova was a match for her.
“Come on, I’ll show Anya,” Veronica chuckled.
“The dead woman’s name is Anna?” asked Alexander Mikhailovich. - Can you give me your last name? Place of residence?
“She lives here, in Lozhkino,” Balabanova replied. - But it's better for you to see for yourself, it's hard to explain in words.
The Colonel got up.
“I’ll wait for you here,” I said cowardly.
“No, no, let's go,” Veronica insisted.
There was nothing to do but follow her.
We entered a small room with no windows.
- This is a closet for stocks, - Nika explained, - on the left there are shelves with all sorts of banks. I rent a house, I didn’t make canned food myself, but the hostess, a very nice woman. She told me: "Eat what you find and how much you want." There was also a freezer here that looked like a hefty chest, it was empty, so I settled Anya there ...
Veronica lifted the lid, I closed my eyes.
- Wow! exclaimed the colonel. - An interesting thing. Why are you keeping her on ice? Dasha, open your eyes, everything is fine.
I looked inside the giant refrigerator and yelped.
- Nika! Dead!
Balabanova looked at me.
I'm standing here completely alive. In front of you is a mannequin.
“He is in a dress,” I shuddered, “with hair.” Seems like a corpse. Creepy and disgusting! Why do you need this doll? Why do you keep it frozen?
“I think it’s better for us to go back to the living room now,” Nika answered, “there we’ll talk calmly.”
Shrugging, I hurried back, sat down in an armchair and refused the tea kindly offered by Balabanova. Degtyarev also did not want to indulge in a drink.
“So Martha saw the doll and thought it was your corpse,” he said. - It can be understood - the mannequin is very naturally made. Plus he has your face. What does all of this mean?
Veronica launched into an explanation.
- A couple of days before Martha's arrival, a customer came to my office, an extremely distrustful person. I explained the filming technology to him, showed him the finished work. No, he rested: I want to see everything with my own eyes. I had to invite him home. Oh, perhaps everything should be in order ... I am the owner of an advertising agency, I attract only models and actresses for filming.
Nika took out an album from the cupboard.
- Browse.
Degtyarev began to turn the pages.
- Beautiful women. But some, in my opinion, are fifty years old.
- There are older ones, - the hostess clarified, - different types are required in advertising. We recently made a video for a manufacturer of inexpensive flannelette robes. Do you know who buys them? The contingent will not believe that Nastya can wear a burgundy flannel nightmare.
Nika pointed at the picture of the spectacular blonde.
“And Maria Ivanovna…” Vika turned the pages. - Here she is. Age closer to seventy, chemistry on the head, simple appearance. Aunt Masha demonstrates wonderfully terrible robes, underwear and dull dresses for the elderly. People look at the model and think, “Oh! Yes, she is just like my grandmother!” And take home clothes.
“You have here weight, height, photos, all volumes, foot size are indicated, but there are no phones,” I noticed. “Although it’s understandable why. The client can, bypassing you, negotiate with the fashion model. I assume the names aren't real?
“Pseudonyms,” Veronica nodded. Yes, it's a security measure. There are clients who want to get to know, say, Nastya, they ask me for her contact. Naturally, I don't give it. If a person begins to look for himself, then he is looking for Anastasia Rostova, a student. But in fact, the girl's name is different, and she does not study at the institute. Without my help, no one will ever find a real model. I never tell the girls that they are interested. Why seduce? By the way, many of them are married, earn extra money for small joys, their husbands are not informed about the shooting. Now about Anna.
The hostess made herself comfortable in the chair.
I got it as a gift from my ex-husband. Civil. Enrique is Italian, we spent several years together, then we parted peacefully, but
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maintained friendly relations. Enrique is not the last person in the fashion business, he is the director of show shows, he suggested a lot of ideas to me. The mannequin is his present for last New Year. Anya is a tall figure, but not a stupid flat cardboard, a photo on a stand, but a product of the latest technologies, a doll that incredibly looks like a person. Not so long ago, I took Anya to the presentation of a book by a TV presenter, so even her friends rushed to hug their “Tanyusha”. Any wig, any dress is put on the figure, and the face is translated from the client's photo. I won't say how it's done, it's a trade secret. In working condition, Anechka is warm, feels just like a person, her arms and legs bend, she can take any position. The only inconvenience is that you need to store the mannequin in a frozen state, because there is a special gel inside. At the moment of transformation of the filler from ice into a soft substance, a lot of heat is released. Have you ever seen packages for muscle pain in pharmacies? The packaging taken out of the freezer is cold, hard, but you crush it in your hands, and it becomes soft, hot. It's the same with Anya. The doll keeps a temperature of thirty-seven degrees for six hours, then slowly cools down.
Balabanova made a short pause.
“Now about that stubborn client. To get an order, that is, as you understand, earnings, I brought Anya into working condition, made her a face from my photo, then seated the mannequin in the living room, opened the door and said to the incredulous client: “Come in, make yourself comfortable. I'll make coffee now. Do you mind spending ten minutes in the company of Anyuta, my twin sister? A man entered the room, and I was standing in the corridor and listening to him say: “Good evening, Anna, I am Vladimir. You are incredibly similar to Veronica. It must be nice to have a doppelgänger? You look great." He lavished compliments on the doll for a couple more minutes, then a cry was heard: “Ahhhh! She's not alive!"
Veronica laughed.
- I received my order immediately. The client, who had previously doubted that Anya could be confused with a real woman, agreed to all my conditions.
“Understood,” I nodded. “So Marfa was scared by the doll. But your friend also saw how you strangled Zinaida Efimovna, her former nanny.
The interlocutor suddenly stretched out her hands.
“See the size of my wrists? All the bracelets fall from my hand - the skeletal system is like that of a mouse, I weigh less than you. With my reserve of strength, I can only strangle people ... Okay, let's say I took the life of a nanny ... Although why would I do this, huh? I left my hometown a very long time ago, I never returned, I have not had anything to do with people from my childhood. And where could an old woman find out my address so she could show up here? I am not registered in Lozhkino, I am registered in the room that I bought when I moved to Moscow. But she didn’t spend a single day there, she acquired a slum in order to receive the status of a metropolitan resident. This is me to the fact that the neighbors in the apartment about Veronika Balabanova do not know anything. Okay, let's assume that I'm cheating on you. Let's say I myself called Zinaida Efimovna here and killed her. Where is the corpse? Buried in the garden? For starters, I can't move her body. And in my childhood, Martha's nanny weighed eighty kilograms, and now, I think, she has exceeded a centner.
“Martha saw you,” Degtyarev stopped Balabanova.
Nika grimaced.
She found me lifeless in the refrigerator. Medvedeva told you where I finished with my aunt?
“In my bedroom,” the Colonel explained. - Martha was walking along the corridor in pitch darkness, illuminating the road with mobile phones, heard a scream from your room and looked in there.
“Yeah,” Veronica chuckled. - Sit here for five minutes, I'll be right back.
Alexander Mikhailovich and I were left alone.
“When Balabanova opened the freezer chest, for a second I thought I was seeing a real corpse,” the colonel admitted. - And what were your feelings?
“Most annoying,” I sighed. - There is a dim light in the closet, in such a light it is impossible to make out the details. This Anna is terrible. Martha must have been scared out of her wits.
“Come here,” Veronica shouted from afar.
The colonel and I hurried to the call.
“I created the same conditions as at two in the morning,” the hostess chattered. “Let me explain, I cannot sleep if there is at least one strip of light in the room. Even tiny. I need absolute darkness for a good rest. Therefore, there are impenetrable rolls and heavy curtains on the windows. There is no lamp in the hallway.
Nick flipped the switch.
- I also closed the curtains on the entire first floor. So it's night in the house...
“It’s pitch black, even gouge out your eye,” I muttered, holding on to the wall.
- Marfa told you that she was walking, shining a mobile screen under her feet. Daria, take out the phone, turn on the flashlight, go up to this door and open it,” Nika commanded. - But not wide open, but a little, just as my friend did, deciding to secretly see what kind of noise comes from here. This must be done at the moment when you hear a woman's cry: "I'll kill you, rubbish!" Got it?
I nodded.
- Great! Veronica exclaimed and darted into the bedroom.
After a couple of seconds, I heard a slightly cracked voice of an elderly woman:
- Lord, what are you doing? No! No! No need!
- Why did you come? a young female voice asked angrily. - Decided to harm me?
- No, no, I'm leaving now.
"I'm going to kill you bastard!" I'll kill the bastard! I'll choke!
I quickly opened the door and gasped. There was a night light in the bedroom. In its dim light, a slender female figure in jeans, a gray pullover, with a ponytail was visible standing with her back to the entrance. Her hands gripped the throat of a woman in her sixty-five years. I could not see the face of the old woman, because her head was thrown back, but the gray little curls were in sight, as well as the pearl necklace that descended from the neck to the chest of the victim. The elderly lady was wearing a dark shapeless dress.
- Oh, you're a beast! the young woman shouted and shook her opponent with all her might.
She sobbed and collapsed to the floor.
- Dead! – joyfully shouted the winner. - It’s my own fault, I should have stayed at home, and not shove to Moscow.
At that moment, an overhead light came on.
- TV! I screamed. - Movie!
“The new technology,” Nika nodded, “is called the “presence effect.” I, lying in bed in complete darkness, watched a Russian detective story, and the picture on the screen was three-dimensional.
- Martha ran away from the pantry, frightened by the sight of the "corpse", heard a scream, opened the door ajar ... and then before her eyes her dead friend was strangling Zinaida Efimovna. There was something for the poor fellow to lose his head, - I regretted Medvedev.
“You can’t see the old woman’s face,” Degtyarev picked up, “but the hairstyle, beads, dress ... This is what many pensioners look like - a dense woman with gray curls and artificial pearls around her neck. And the killer is dressed like Nika: blue jeans, a gray T-shirt. And the hair is the same, dark blond, gathered in a ponytail ... Medvedev was in a state of great stress after visiting the pantry, so she did not realize that she was watching a scene from the series.
“Although I’m not scared like Martha, I also didn’t realize that I was seeing a working TV,” I admitted. – In this model, the screen seems to hang in the air, it does not have a black or gray edging. And the image is very clear. I thought I was present at the commission of a crime.
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The next evening, returning home, Degtyarev showed me a photograph of an elderly woman.
– Do you know?
“Gray hair, overweight, imitation pearls,” I listed. - Is this Zinaida Efimovna?
“Her name is Izmailova,” the colonel nodded. He took a cup from the shelf, poured tea leaves into it and drank it in one gulp. - Former nanny Medvedeva lives in Bugaysk. I haven't been to Moscow for a very long time. Feels great.
“Fear has big eyes,” I muttered. - Poor Martha. Why did she die?
“A substance was found in the girl’s stomach, the name of which I can’t even read from a piece of paper,” the fat man sighed. “Ethyl methyl, phosphate bomate… something like that. It is harmless. Has a sour taste.
“When you suggested that Marfa put honey in her tea to help her cope with a cough, she replied: “It’s very sweet,” I recalled.
- The question is: where did she swallow this phosphate? .. - Degtyarev began and fell silent.
I turned to the refrigerator.
- Well, go on.
Degtyarev did not make a sound, I turned around.
Alexander Mikhailovich stood in silence.
- Hi all! - Masha announced cheerfully, entering the room, accompanied by a flock of our pets. - I would like to introduce...
The Colonel coughed, and suddenly puffs of red smoke burst from his nostrils.
- Mother! Maruska squealed.
Alexander Mikhailovich started coughing.
Simultaneously with the sounds, a cloud of multi-colored sparks flew out of the fat man's mouth.
– Ah-ah-ah! cried Degtyarev.
Now the brave fighter with crime was enveloped in a dark blue cloud.
Masha silently threw herself under the table, Khuchik rushed there after her. The dog Athena, the owner of a weak bladder, instantly made a huge puddle of horror.
“Toadstool,” said Hector, who was sitting on her back, to the embarrassed dog, and, flapping his wings, flew up to the ceiling.
Rising up, he accidentally brushed his tail against a handsome young man who, having entered together with Marusya, stood modestly on the sidelines.
- Why did you stick around? Hector asked.
The young man, not expecting such a gracious reception, was taken aback. Degtyarev asked menacingly:
– Who came up with this?
Pink puffs poured out of the Colonel's nostrils.
Sasha, what's wrong with you? - Manevin was surprised, appearing in the dining room. – What did you drink? Mirror dragon blood?
- No, - Alexander Mikhailovich answered and began to cough again.
At every sound, multi-colored puffs of either smoke or steam poured out of the fat man's mouth, which immediately slowly rose to the ceiling.
“I’m freaking out,” said the raven. “They warned you, fat one, don’t eat too much, you’ll get sick!”
I glared at Hector. However, he is much smarter than I thought so far.
- I found a sponsor! Garik yelled from the corridor. – And a model for shooting! Hello Gennady. So you all refused to finance me, so I agreed with another investor. Gnaw your knees with envy, you will not receive a profit from the investment.
Mafi started up, as always, she was afraid that Igor would take her away from us, and threw herself under the table, where Masha and Hooch were already sitting. Mafusya is not very large, but strong, with strong legs. At the moment of danger, she moves at the speed of a cannon projectile, now the trajectory of her flight ran, unfortunately, where the young man was standing unknown to me. Mafi rushed, not understanding the road, and poked her head under the boy's knees. The guest waved his arms, tried to stand on his feet, but flopped face down on the floor. Mafi ran down his back and hid her head under the table. Her hind legs and sirloin with a curved tail were left outside. Maybe Mafuse's grandfather was an ostrich? Otherwise, why does she think that in case of danger, hiding her head, she will remain safe and sound?
Entering the room, Igor stumbled over the legs of a stranger and collapsed next to him.
“Our fool is the worst of all,” said Hector, who could not stand Garik.
- And what happened here? yelled Pogodin, also entering the dining room and hiccupping loudly for some reason.
“A lot,” the raven explained. Then he glided down, lightly poked Mafi in the ass with his beak and joyfully declared: - Wounded!
Mafi quickly crawled under the table entirely. Hector made a sound like laughter and squeaked, imitating whoever:
– When will dinner be served?
- Who poured rubbish into the teapot? - the fat man was indignant.
- What are you talking about? I asked.
Masha got out from under the table and went up to the young man.
Yura, are you alive?
“Yes,” the boy replied, “everything is fine.
“Get up,” Marusya ordered.
The boy got up.
Nobody wants to know how I feel? – offended asked Garik. “Are you hurt, upamshi?”
“Like a fool,” Hector announced. - Upamshi! Haha!
Yura laughed softly.
Raven perched on his shoulder.
- Are you laughing at me?
“No, Hector,” the young man smiled. “I admire your intelligence. I knew that crows are very smart, but you, perhaps, surpass many people in intelligence.
The bird began to rub its head against the guy's cheek and purr like Folodia's cat.
- Meow, mr-mr, meow...
- Will you have dinner? Pogodin inquired. – Hic, hic… Who pissed on the floor?
“Dasha,” Garik said, getting up.
I took a paper towel and started blotting up the puddle. Marusya instantly dragged a rag and washed the floor.
- Where is Ira? Felix was surprised.
“Gone somewhere,” I sighed. - I'll put the kettle on.
- Wait a minute! - shouted Masha. - Before…
“Before you all start eating and quarreling,” Garik interrupted Manyunya, “I want to introduce you to Natasha Kuznetsova. She is a mega super model. Will star in a commercial for my cork cup.
I looked around the room and only now noticed that Igor did not show up alone. Near the sideboard silently stood a thin girl a little taller than me. She had dark hair down to the middle of her neck and large glasses on her nose. A white T-shirt was tight around her slender figure, emphasizing her high chest, an incredibly narrow waist was wrapped around a red belt, the guest was wearing a short blue pleated skirt, and on her feet were pumps the color of a fire engine. The stranger looked like a pin-up picture coming to life.
“Hello,” Natasha said.
“Good evening,” I smiled. - Sit down please. Sorry for the confusion, Alexander Mikhailovich for some reason began to cough with something multi-colored.
"It's ethyl, bnetyl, methyl—I can't pronounce the name," said the Colonel. - They found a whole mountain of it in the tea that Martha drank with us yesterday. Medvedeva drank tea leaves and died.
Did Martha get poisoned? Masha gasped. “You said she had a blood clot.
“I made a guess before the autopsy,” the Colonel said. - And now we found out - this is poisoning. It turns out that Dasha sent Medvedev to the next world.
I was outraged.
Has Leonid gone mad?
“This same ethyl-methyl, or whatever it was, was in the tea,” the colonel continued, “the substance was found both in the victim’s stomach and in the cup. And who brought Marfa tea? Daria.
I'm speechless.
“Not kosher, however,” Igor remarked.
- It's not Musik's fault! Masha rushed to my defense. - And whoever thinks otherwise, let him go from our house to all four directions!
Why would Dasha kill someone? Yura asked. - Is there a motive?
I perked up.
- Yes! Thanks, Yura!
- Criminal intent? – continued guy.
Degtyarev opened his mouth, but the young man got ahead of him, spoke himself:
– Was there between the victim and
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suspected dislike? Personal feud? Old relationship? Are you sure that Daria poured the poison? There are witnesses? It doesn't matter that she served the cup because...
Yura sighed briefly and, throwing up his chin, rushed on:
- First. Poison could have been poured into tea when Daria turned away. Second. The poison was dropped before the mistress of the house took the cup. Who else was present in the room at the time of Martha's death?
I maliciously pointed my finger at Degtyarev.
Yuri tilted his head.
- So, you, Alexander Mikhailovich, are also under suspicion. And the fact that you are a big police chief does not matter in this situation. If I understood correctly, there were three people in the dining room: Daria, the colonel and the victim. The last one died. The rest automatically fall under suspicion.
Manevin applauded.
Yuri, I like you. Let's get acquainted. Felix, Daria's husband.
“I mean…” Masha began.
- Cutlets! Gena exclaimed, going up to Natasha. - You are meatballs! Hic…
“I must disappoint you,” my husband said, “before you is a beautiful girl, and not a minced meat product.
Pogodin again hiccupped jubilantly and declared, without taking his eyes off the guest:
“Yes,” Natasha agreed, “I am an actress. But sometimes I agree to participate in some video. For financial reasons.
- It is you! Gennady breathed out. - Oh, it's you! I can't believe my eyes! Marry me, will you? Right now!
- Eh ... eh ... eh ... - Natasha babbled, - this is somehow unexpected ...
Gena hiccupped again, sat down on the floor, then lay down and began to snore.
- Yes, he got drunk like a pig! Drunk cognac! shouted Garik. - That's why I made an offer to Natasha!
The girl looked down.
- Igor, think when you speak, - I could not stand it.
- And what? - the beloved son of Felix's grandmother was surprised. - Gennady got drunk somewhere, so he decided to marry Natalya. That's what he hiccupped!
Well, how to explain to this fruit that it is unpleasant for any woman to hear that her name is down the aisle from drunken eyes.
Kuznetsova smiled.
- Everything is fine. I understand perfectly well: after three seconds of dating, a girl is not taken to the registry office. Probably, it is uncomfortable for a man to lie on the floor. You can catch a cold. It has to be picked up and placed somewhere. I have a request to you: when he wakes up, do not remind him of your desire to marry me.
“Of course,” I nodded. - Igor, Felix, Degtyarev! Take Gena to the small guest room.
"I'll help you," Yura said. - A drunk person is very heavy.
“Oh, cudgel, let’s go…” Alexander Mikhailovich groaned, grabbing the right leg of the owner of the Park of Progress.
Orange smoke billowed from the Colonel's nose.
Manevin grabbed the second leg, Yura and Igor got their hands.
“On the count of three, we lift and transport,” the fat man commanded. - One two Three!
The men tore Gennady off the floor. It seems that Pogodin poured a lot of alcohol into himself, because he did not wake up, but snored even louder.
- Well, they dragged ... - Manevin panted.
“Hey, hey, you can’t feet forward,” Degtyarev got nervous, “this is a bad omen. So only the corpses are taken out.
The men began to turn around, Igor stepped on Khuch, the pug squealed, Garik jumped up.
The men froze. A plump aunt in a cherry-colored dress and apron ran into the dining room.
“The guards said the police lived here,” she repeated. Which one of you is the police? Hurry! Veronica is dead! To death!
- Balabanova? I gasped.
“Yes, yes,” the stranger nodded. - I'm her maid Lucy. She's completely gone! Forever! And she owes me a salary for several months, now she won’t give it back ...
Degtyarev and Manevin unclenched their palms, Garik let go of Pogodin's hand, and Yura could not hold him alone. Gennady fell to the floor with a crash, but did not even open his eyes.
- ABOUT! the housekeeper trembled. – Have you already brought one dead man?! And what, do I need to drag the one who's screwed up here myself?
"No, I'll go with you," the Colonel said grimly, blue wisps of smoke coming out of his mouth this time.
- Mother! squealed the housekeeper. - Evil swamp! Color werewolf! Ah-ah-ah!
Rolling her eyes, Lucy collapsed on the snoring Pogodin.
For a moment the room was quiet, I was the first to wake up.
- Yura, just don’t think that this happens every day with us!
“Today is a calm evening,” Degtyarev grunted, “usually life in Lozhkino is more eventful. That's it, I went to Balabanova.
I ran after the colonel.
- I'm going with you.
“I don’t need you,” the fat man snapped. - By the way! I'm curious to know who poured ethyl boron methyl powder into an empty cup just now? Who planned to play an idiotic joke on someone who would pour tea into her?
But I, not paying attention to the words of Degtyarev, was already flying into the hallway.
At six in the morning, Alexander Mikhailovich and I were drinking coffee together in the dining room.
“It’s good for you,” the colonel sighed, “now you’ll crawl into bed, and without a wink of an eye I’ll steer to work.
“I don’t feel like sleeping at all,” I said.
“This is while you are on adrenaline,” Degtyarev explained. - Soon the hormone will subside and you will be knocked down. Listen, where is Yura? When we were returning, I saw a beige jeep in the yard, and none of ours has one. And there are ostentatious boots in the hallway - blue suede, with white soles.
“I think the guy stayed the night,” I replied.
And where did he sleep? Degtyarev turned purple.
I shrugged.
- You and I went to Balabanova, I have no idea where Yura has gone.
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Notes
Wait one minute, I'm busy. Very! (Impossibly twisted French).
Good afternoon. What would you like? (Terrible French).
Good afternoon.
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Daria Arkadievna Dontsova
Nightclub on Lysa Gora
You get to know your husband better in five minutes of scandal than in twenty years of a happy marriage...
What have you pinned down on me, stupid goat? - Pogodin barked, looking at the folder, which was handed to him by a blonde in a baggy dress.
Documents, Gennady Alekseevich, - the girl answered quietly. - You asked them to bring them out of the car.
In a tone that could have wilted a bouquet that stood on the table in a large vase, our guest said:
Well, repeat what I told you.
You said you needed papers from the car, his secretary whispered.
folder color? Pogodin asked ominously.
Oh, I wanted to make ginger tea, - Felix fussed. - Gena, I put an orange in the drink. You do not mind?
You can even spit in a cup, I'm on the drum, - cut off a friend. - Natalia, answer! What color folder did I have to deliver urgently?
Black, - the blonde murmured.
And which one did you give me now? - Pogodin did not calm down.
Black, - repeated the assistant.
Tatyana, open your eyes! the boss yelled at her. - She's dark blue!
Felix narrowed his eyes.
Gena, in fairness, I note that the color looks like a great black.
The assistant realized that they were trying to protect her, and perked up:
It's dark in the car.
It's dark in the car ... - Gennady mimicked. And he burst out laughing: - It's sunset in your brain. Catherine! Step march for papers. You have a minute. Well, the countdown has begun: one, two ...
The assistant backed away and disappeared into the corridor.
You have intimidated the poor thing so much that she is moving away from you like an icon - she is afraid to turn her back on you, ”Manevin remarked, looking at our guest.
I didn’t expect that you could behave boorishly with a woman, ”I drawled disapprovingly. - And what is the name of your secretary - Natasha, Tanya or Katya?
Gena stroked the pug Khuchik, who was sitting on his lap, and muttered:
I do not remember. What's the difference? Dashencia, you understand, this goat is not a woman. I'm talking specifically.
I almost dropped my cup.
What, is she a man? Wow, she looks like a pretty girl.
Pogodin laughed.
Adore you! No, Elena is not a man. But she is not a woman, but an employee.
I looked at my old friend in surprise.
It means that she receives money, - Pogodin continued, - has a social package, paid vacation, I pay her a ballot. Excellent conditions! And I need a good job from her for all this sugar.
If you push a woman, she will lose her last mind, ”Felix remarked.
You can't lose what you don't have, - Gena chuckled. - This sheep is not able to remember that I need a black folder, so he brings a blue one.
I could mix them up too, I said. - Felix is right, the color of the folders is almost the same.
If an employee can't cope, she should be fired, - Manevin picked up, - but you can't be rude to a person.
Gennady slammed his fist on the table.
Ha! So after all it is impossible to find a normal worker. This Galina, or whatever it is, is the best of the worst. And during the interview, she behaved appropriately. The head of the personnel department reported to me: “Finally, I dug up an intelligent metropolitan resident who does not speak “from Ukraine”, but normally in Russian “from Ukraine”, does not confuse Prus with Proust and knows that Mozart did not write books. The characteristics are good, a diploma from a theater university, but her career as an actress did not work out - she was not taken to any team in Moscow and the region, she was not invited to the cinema. The girl graduated from courses where executive assistants are trained, and served as a secretary in a company that soon went bankrupt. I was delighted and said: “Okay, tell her to dress properly, let her buy a uniform, and take it on a trial period.” And that's what turned out: the girl forgets everything. Ask for tea - bring coffee. You tell them to call one phone, another one dials. Idiot!
It would be interesting to know her real name, though,” I muttered.
I still can’t fire this marvelous miracle, - Gennady grumbled, - he ordered the personnel officer to find me another assistant, but there are only sheep, goats and other animals around. Clever women do not want to work, they already live well.
You're wrong, I objected.
Yeah, yeah ... - Pogodin narrowed his eyes and spoke insinuatingly: - Daria, I offer you the place of my personal assistant. Salary is decent. Social package. Two weeks vacation. The working day is not standardized. Output floating. Well? Agree, I will arrange for you today.
Thank you, - I answered, - but I do not need a service for the sake of earning. Ready to do something of interest for free ...
You get to know your husband better in five minutes of scandal than in twenty years of a happy marriage...
“What have you pinned down on me, stupid goat?” - Pogodin barked, looking at the folder, which was handed to him by a blonde in a baggy dress.
“Documents, Gennady Alekseevich,” the girl answered quietly. - You asked them to bring them from the car.
In a tone that could have wilted a bouquet that stood on the table in a large vase, our guest said:
- Well, repeat what I told you.
“You said you needed papers from the car,” his secretary whispered.
– Folder color? Pogodin asked ominously.
“Oh, I wanted to make ginger tea,” Felix bustled. - Gena, I put an orange in the drink. You do not mind?
“You can even spit in a cup, I’m on the drum,” snapped a friend. - Natalia, answer! What color folder did I have to deliver urgently?
“Black,” the blonde murmured.
“Which one did you give me now?” Pogodin did not calm down.
“Black,” repeated the assistant.
- Tatyana, open your eyes! the boss yelled at her. She's dark blue!
Felix narrowed his eyes.
- Gene, for the sake of justice, I note that the color looks great like black.
The assistant realized that they were trying to protect her, and perked up:
- It's dark in the car.
- It's dark in the car ... - Gennady mimicked. And he burst out laughing: - It's sunset in your brains. Catherine! Step march for papers. You have a minute. Well, the countdown has begun: one, two ...
The assistant backed away and disappeared into the corridor.
“You scared the poor thing so much that she’s moving away from you like an icon - she’s afraid to turn her back on you,” Manevin remarked, looking at our guest.
“I didn’t expect you to be rude to a woman,” I drawled disapprovingly. - And what is the name of your secretary - Natasha, Tanya or Katya?
Gena stroked the pug Khuchik, who was sitting on his lap, and muttered:
- I do not remember. What's the difference? Dashencia, you understand, this goat is not a woman. I'm talking specifically.
I almost dropped my cup.
What, is she a man? Wow, she looks like a pretty girl.
Pogodin laughed.
- Adore you! No, Elena is not a man. But she is not a woman, but an employee.
I looked at my old friend in surprise.
“So she gets money,” Pogodin continued, “she has a social package, paid vacation, I pay her a ballot. Excellent conditions! And I need a good job from her for all this sugar.
“If you bully a woman, she will lose her last mind,” said Felix.
“You can’t lose what you don’t have,” Gena chuckled. - This sheep is not able to remember that I need a black folder, so he brings a blue one.
“I could mix them up too,” I said. – Felix is right, the color of the folders is almost the same.
“If an employee can’t cope, she should be fired,” Manevin picked up, “but you can’t be rude to a person.
Gennady slammed his fist on the table.
– Ha! So after all it is impossible to find a normal worker. This Galina, or whatever it is, is the best of the worst. And during the interview, she behaved appropriately. The head of the personnel department reported to me: “Finally, I dug up an intelligent metropolitan resident who does not speak “from Ukraine”, but normally in Russian “from Ukraine”, does not confuse Prus with Proust and knows that Mozart did not write books. The characteristics are good, a diploma from a theater university, but her career as an actress did not work out - she was not taken to any team in Moscow and the region, she was not invited to the cinema. The girl graduated from courses where executive assistants are trained, and served as a secretary in a company that soon went bankrupt. I was delighted and said: “Okay, tell her to dress properly, let her buy a uniform, and take it on a trial period.” And that's what turned out: the girl forgets everything. If you ask for tea, you will bring coffee. You tell them to call one phone, another one dials. Idiot!
“It would be interesting to know her real name, though,” I muttered.
“I can’t fire this wonderful miracle yet,” Gennady grumbled, “he ordered the personnel officer to find me another assistant, but there are only sheep, goats and other animals around. Clever women do not want to work, they already live well.
“You are wrong,” I objected.
- Yeah, yeah ... - Pogodin narrowed his eyes and spoke insinuatingly: - Daria, I offer you the place of my personal assistant. Salary is decent. Social package. Two weeks vacation. The working day is not standardized. Output floating. Well? Agree, I will arrange for you today.
“Thank you,” I replied, “but I do not need service to earn money. Ready to do something of interest for free ...
“That's it,” Gena interrupted, “that's what I'm talking about. The normal ones don't want to work, and the abnormal ones piss me off.
Are your employees required to wear uniforms? Felix decided to put an end to the sensitive subject.
- Those who work in the "Park of Progress", by all means, - Pogodin answered, - and in the central office, employees wear civilian clothes. Why are you interested? Ah, I see... I just said that I had the head of personnel explain to the goat what clothes to wear. I explain! I, Gennady Alekseevich Pogodin, am the owner of a very successful business called "Park of Progress", the owner of a country house, a multi-room apartment on Stary Arbat, apartments in Paris, a fat bill and much more. I'm Single. And he never married. I have no children, an orphan. Can you imagine my price in the marriage market? If you compare me with cars, then your humble servant is like an exclusive Rolls-Royce made of pure gold. Therefore, the girls who get access to me for work dress up in short and tight. Fools think I'm a horny idiot who drools at the sight of a naked body, and I'll rush to buy a brick-diamond ring to get hold of him. Doesn't drip! I won't run! I'm not interested in nerds. The main erogenous zone of Mr. Pogodin is the brain. Therefore, goats in the position of secretary are supposed to wear wide dresses knee-length, with a collar under the throat, the color of the clothes is calm, makeup is minimal, the heel of the shoes is five centimeters.
“It doesn’t work out very logically,” Manevin smiled. - If in the beautiful half of humanity you are attracted only by the mind, then the employee's mini-skirt should not worry either. And if you pay attention to defiant clothes and become furious, then this means that you are trying to curb the demon of lust.
I looked at my husband. Manevin and I never quarreled, and I have never witnessed a quarrel between my husband and anyone, but now in our dining room there was a showdown between Gennady and his secretary, and it became clear to me: Felix can be sarcastic. That's really true: in five minutes of scandal you get to know your husband better than in twenty years of a happy marriage.
- And no locks with rhinestones on top! - Pogodin went to the dressing. “I can’t stand hair structures.
“It’s like a monastery,” I chuckled. “What about a headscarf?”
“I don’t insist on it,” Gena answered seriously.
- Hello, hello! shouted the nasty tenor. - Will you make some coffee? Cappuccino! With whipped cream!
Mafi the dog, still sleeping peacefully on the couch, jumped up and huddled under him in an instant.
There are a lot of animals in our house that know well that they are loved. Pug Khuchik, poodle Cherry, hefty shaggy Athena, cat Folodia, raven Hector and others are not afraid of people, because no one has ever offended them. The animals always rejoice at our guests and hope for a treat. True, they all perfectly understand that, say, from my closest friend, the surgeon Oksana, and her son, the veterinarian Denis, they will not get anything. Ksyuta and Den will never give the four-legged and winged inhabitants of the house a piece of sausage or a roll. But we also have other guests. For example, Zina Raikin at the sight of Hooch begins to lisp:
“Ah, ah, he has such hungry eyes!”
Title: Nightclub on Bald Mountain
Writer: Daria Dontsova
Year: 2017
Publisher: Eksmo
Age limit: 16+
Volume: 290 pages
Genres: Ironic detectives
About the book "Night Club on Bald Mountain" Daria Dontsova
Daria Dontsova is the author of amazing stories - life, funny, sometimes creepy, but always very exciting. Her book “Night Club on Bald Mountain” is another epic about Dasha Vasilyeva, a lover of investigating the most incredible crimes, which will give odds to any professional detective. If you want to completely relax, laugh heartily and escape from life's troubles, you should definitely read this work - one of the funniest in this series.
The novel begins very darkly. The main character began to notice that strange and frightening events were taking place in her house: guests and neighbors began to die, her friends disappeared somewhere. It turns out that the reason lies in Dasha herself and her husband, Professor Manevin, a specialist in black magic. The roots of this story lie in the distant past. One day, three students decided to celebrate Halloween, then still little known in Russia. They put on masquerade costumes and went to a party where they decided to communicate with the dark forces. To what consequences this led, you will find out if you decide to read this book to the end.
The author's trademark is an organic combination of everyday scenes and detective intrigues. Daria Dontsova manages to weave these two storylines together, making the reader smile and suspense for the next round of a dynamic plot. The theme associated with the witch and black magic turned out to be very attractive and colorful. There are no clearly defined crimes or malicious criminals, everything is to blame - a curse that needs to be removed in an unusual way. As always, Dasha Vasilyeva is at the very epicenter of events and assigns herself the main role in this story.
The book "Night Club on Bald Mountain" is a beautiful and sometimes frightening fairy tale, woven into our life canvas. Thanks to the lively and imaginative manner of narration, interesting characters, famously twisted plot and many funny moments, the work is “swallowed” in one breath. The intrigue is revealed in the most unexpected perspective - a worthy finale of a fascinating detective story. So many books have already been written about the already middle-aged but active Mrs. Vasilyeva, however, in each new work, Daria Dontsova manages to reveal previously unnoticed facets of the main character both in work and in her personal life, showing her surprisingly optimistic nature, wit, curiosity and ability to find way out of the most difficult situations.
On our literary site books2you.ru you can download Daria Dontsova's book "Night Club on Bald Mountain" for free in formats suitable for different devices - epub, fb2, txt, rtf. Do you like to read books and always follow the release of new products? We have a large selection of books of various genres: classics, modern science fiction, literature on psychology and children's editions. In addition, we offer interesting and informative articles for beginner writers and all those who want to learn how to write beautifully. Each of our visitors will be able to find something useful and exciting.
