Вячеслав Яцко - The Professor's Murder

"Four of them?" wondered I.

"Yes, they were sitting at the table that was broken".

"Strange", thought I. "The police recorded only two names".

"And what damage was caused to your restaurant?" asked I aloud. "I am ready to compensate you for it right now".

"The damage was not so great", answered the manager. "Let me see…A broken table, plates, cups, glasses; spoons and forks were curved; the table cloth torn. Well, it makes eighteen thousand rubles in total".

I took out my wallet that had grown very thin and gave him the money. He signed his waiver without any questions.

At 2 a.m. Police Station 11 was crowded with ruffians, prostitutes, tramps, and other lawbreakers and troublemakers. Police details arrived bringing new portions of them, and the work was in full swing. I noticed long ago that restaurants and police stations are the most attended places at night time and they work in close collaboration: a number of restaurant clients would migrate to police stations.

Captain Murkin greeted me as if I were his old friend. He read the waivers attentively and connected with unfailing Sidorov ordering him to convey Smirnova from the third cell with all her personal belongings to his office.

Olga appeared wearing a jammed skirt and a blouse. Her hair was tousled, she looked unkempt but very attractive.

"Where have you been all this time, you, pig?" greeted she me. "Where have you been while I was interrogated, then taken to a morgue to identify Smirnov, and arrested at that bloody restaurant? And here, at this stinky pigpen, I was fingerprinted, searched and this blockhead", she motioned to Murkin, "told me I was a prostitute, non Russian, and a criminal!

"Not me! Not me!" cried the Captain mopping his brow with a handkerchief. "This is ordinary routine. All detained persons are fingerprinted so that we could match the fingerprints with information in our databases. Recently all police stations got from Moscow polygraphs, i.e. electronic lie detectors with strict orders to apply them in practice. When Mrs. Smirnova was polygraphed the computer detected she had lied when she answered that she wasn't a prostitute, wasn't a criminal, and was Russian. But I didn't believe it! That's why I phoned you".

"Very instructive results", remarked I.

Olga's countenance changed, a wild gleam appeared in her eyes. She raised her hand against me but overbalanced and began falling on Murkin's desk. I couldn't let another piece of furniture be broken and caught her up. As soon as my hands found themselves on her waist and moved somewhat lower, the other parts of my body began functioning in unison with them. My belly nestled against her belly; by breast and her breast huddled together; my lips pressed to her lips in a fervent kiss.

"Well, well. You are not wasting your time", heard I Rogov's voice. Murkin stood up and Olga moved away from me.

"Alex, you are wounded!" her voice sounded with horror; she looked with fear at a red spot on her palm. The back of my head must be bleeding and the blood dropped to the neck.

Olga's bellicose mood gave place to anxiety. When she saw me wounded her female instincts prevailed. I was her man; I suffered; I needed care. She demanded that Murkin should give her a bandage and iodine and began bandaging my head.

Rogov who watched the procedures with true interest chuckled and said: "Olga, if you look around, you are sure to find a man better than this shabby dilapidated person". He straightened his shoulders and stuck out his chest.

Olga looked around, her eyes rested on Murkin, and she stared at him in astonishment.

"He has a wife and three children", warned I.

Murkin got red: "How do you know?"

I and Rogov exchanged glances and burst out laughing.

The door of the office burst open, a policeman with lieutenant's straps stormed into. "A skirmish at Moscow Avenue! Several people killed.' shouted he.

Murkin cursed and rushed to his safe. We left the office and went out.

When Olga sat in the car Rogov drew me aside and said: "Your idea about Smirnov's reluctance to leave for America proved true. I found out that he first rejected the offer and then suddenly agreed to accept it. As for his ex wife and the daughter. Seven years ago Vera Krotova and her daughter Glalina Krotova moved to Novoyarsk where Krotova's parents lived. In a year and a half Vera died; a thirteen-year-old Galina was supported by her grandparents. At the age of eighteen she married and assumed her husband's name – Filinova. Here is all information about them". He gave me a disk.

"I'm sure the murderer can be found at the University. I included also personal data about two suspects: Vladimir Timkin, Smornov's postgraduate, and Elza Goldberg, Vice President of the State University", added he. "And what happened to you head?"

I told him about the attack and my suspicions concerning Voronin.

"Tomorrow I'll take care of him myself", promised Rogov.

I thanked him and we parted.

6. The Murder Solved

In the morning using data on Rogov's disk I made appointments with Vladimir Timkin and Elza Goldberg who both worked at the State University.

The spacious lobby of the University was decorated with the large portrait of deceased professor with a crepe band in the corner. The inscription under the portrait informed that the funeral was to take place the next day at 1 p.m.

I went upstairs to the second floor where Dr. Goldberg's office was located. The secretary, a pretty looking girl, announced to her boss my arrival and I was admitted to the office without delay.

I introduced myself, explained honestly that I defended Olga's interests and recounted the same story about her sufferings from Smirnov's rudeness and disregard of her.

After listening to me Dr. Goldberg nodded her head:

"Nobody can overestimate Dr. Smirnov's scientific achievements. He was a good scientist who greatly contributed to the field. But he was also well known for his intolerance and rough manners. I am sure his murder can be accounted for by these features of his disposition".

"And you also suffered from his bad manners, didn't you?"

"Yes, he rudely insulted me in public at the meeting of the Scientific Board. I just suggested reducing support of his projects so that to finance other scientists".

"To tell the truth, Dr. Goldberg, I would have also been offended if somebody had attempted to reduce my financial support".

"But you don't have contracts with overseas firms. It was common knowledge Smirnov earned lots of money, dozens of thousands dollars. One hundred thousand rubles was a trifling sum for him and substantial support for any other researcher. And my responsibility is to promote research at this University. I understand he got offended but that doesn't justify him. I was preparing to bring an action against him".

"Thank you, Dr. Goldberg", said I. "I know Dr. Smirnov had a conflict with Vladimir Timkin. Where can I find him?"

"He works at Computational Engineering Laboratory. My secretary, Lina Frolova, will tell you how to find it".

I said goodbye and went out. The pretty girl secretary told that CEL was in the fourth floor. As I was talking to her I had a sense of deja-vu: it seemed to me I already saw her somewhere.

Timkin, a strong handsome fellow, explained: "Smirnov had done good work in Computer Science and began considering himself a genius. He decided to take up the problem of Brownian motion. He stated that particles' movements were subject to definite laws rather than being chaotic and he could discover the laws. I tried to persuade him to give up the idea because we must work at the orders from American firms not lose profitable contracts. He didn't want to hear anything and even charged at me!

"Really? And who won?"