Detective

Detective. Eleven Chapters.

I A False Trail by Elizaveta Groza
An investigator was sitting in a huge red armchair. His unbuttoned jacket on the bride shoulders let his moves and breath be uninhibited. He was holding a glass of strong whisky in his left wiry hand and a small but thick diary in his right one. His assistant handed the diary to him a moment ago. It’s dark shabby leather cover told about years of service.
“What`s it, Gale?” asked the investigator with one of that imposing deep voices investigators usually have.
“Found this in the deceased`s apartment, mister Briggs. I think the owner of this diary is the killer, because the last pages… You should check them. We consider this journal to be the plea of guilty before his owner…” Gale got stuck. After a small pause he finished “before he… you know what”
“Before he committed a suicide” said the investigator and looked at his assistant with a tired glance with a bit of irritation “You have to learn how to call things by their proper names, if you want to be my or whoever else`s assistant in future”
Gale humbly nodded. Donald Briggs finished his whiskey and loudly put the glass on the small table beside the armchair.
“I know, Jessica believed your practice with me will be the best practice for your future career in FBR” continued Donald “But if you don`t stop moaning, stutter and bumble, I will kick you out of here and you will sell burritos in the China-Town”
Gale had nothing to do but nodded.
Donald Briggs opened the diary. Lots of shabby yellowed pages were written up with black and blue inks. Some pages had strikethroughs and underlines, some numbers and sketches as if made to calm their owner down. They reminded Donald the sketches of his sister who had a psychosis. He looked at the last pages of the diary as Gale had asked.
“Thursday. God bless my soul. I am afraid no prays will help. I will have to burn this notebook later, no doubt. I should start a new life. However, I just have to get rid of the burden at the moment. Even if it isn`t any relief. I have no one else beside. And now I can understand why. I am a terrible person. Even if I had someone, whom could I tell? I am not that crazy to have a talk about this while drinking coffee in the morning. My body became the home for my sins. I can't wash off the blood from my hands; however it is a relief for me in a sense.
Friday. Yesterday I eventually fell asleep. My brain drew pictures of my shaking hands and heavy breath. I heard my steps as if from Michael's ears, and felt worrying as if my own death was coming up in those steps. Some strange feeling has settled down in my soul (if sure enough it is still with me) and is devouring me from inside. I suppose the feeling is something in the middle between fear and guilty. I have to testify in the police office tomorrow, as one of Michael's acquaintances. I don't want to, but if I tell the planned, everything will be fine.
Saturday. Today`s interrogation was successful, but I was barely on the edge. Suddenly there appeared a crack in me from nowhere. I can't accept any side. I am a murderer and a coward at the same time, and none of both at once. The police officer Vivien Fitz asked about the evening. I told about the party and crowd of people, including Nancy Fidget, Michael's sister, Drew Paddington, Pitter Mash and Pitter’s girlfriend Rosy. I told about Michael's huge debt for Pitter. Everyone at his work knew about their cold war, so everything looked naturally. Vivien Fitz didn`t believe me at once, but I told that Pitter drunk too much that evening and had a quarrel with Rosy. She went home on a taxi earlier and Pitter left at Michael`s house. I told I didn`t see it myself, of course, because I left right after Rosy, but I said that Rosy called me the next morning, she was all in tears, and she said Pitter hadn`t returned back home. Rosy really called me, so it wasn`t lying. I probably could have supposed Pitter`s madness at Michael because of the debt to become the reason for him to take the scissors. So I wasn't lying in a sense again. I don`t care if she believed me or not, but I was freed for now.
Sunday. Today was the call from the police department. They wanted me to come again. I forget to sign something, you see. I know it`s a trap. They have known everything and I will end up my days in the prison. I won`t come. I am such a coward. Michael was right calling me a chicken. I wasn`t able to pay him his stupid 500$. I have to left this town and maybe even country.”
The diary ended up with this. Donald looked at Gale.
“Who’s dairy is it? Who is the owner?” asked he, standing up.
“The concierge told us the apartment where we found the journal and the body belongs to Bill Clyde. And she also hasn`t seen him for already tree days. We suppose it is Bill Clyde who is dead in that apartment”
“You suppose?” Donald arched his eyebrows in amaze and irritation “Haven`t you checked?”
“I don`t know” moaning Gale “I think so”
“Gale! You are my biggest trouble!” Donald raised his voice and picked a phone to call.
“Yes, that`s me” he answered someone on the line “The body in the apartment. Have you found any documents? I want to be sure if it is Bill Clyde”
Donald was sliding with his glance along the whole living room silently, while waiting for the answer from the other line. His face became even more irritated, when the answer finally came. Donald rolled his eyes, said thanks and hung up.
“What?” asked Gale looking at Briggs. He felt he had screwed up.
“The dead body in the apartment is not Billy Clyde”
“But it has to be! The diary was on his desk!”
“Listen, it is not him, okay? The case is still on. And you are the worse assistant ever”

II Money by Ilariya 
- Mr Miller, you were working with the victim, right? What relationship was between you two.
- Yes, we were working together, but I was mostly teaching regular class students and he was working with Math class, sometimes I replaced him when he was abroad or was ill. That’s all.
- You said that you were home when in the time of the murder, you also told you don’t even know where the victim lived. But the cameras show that you were in the building when the victim was killed, care to explain that?
- Yes, I lied, but I can explain!! I didn’t kill him! I was blackmailed!!!
- By the victim? What did he blackmail you with?
- Ok. Listen, a few years ago everything was bad between me and my wife she started a divorce process and even hired a lawyer trying to get everything. I was fired. Everything was so bad that I started using... I was a drug addict. I am not proud of that, but I changed. I am sober for almost a year now. And I got this job in this school, with a great salary, and I am dating an amazing woman. And then I got a blackmail. It was said there, that I should pay 10 thousand, or my past will be exposed. You probably can guess in what state I was I would lose my job; I would never find a new one. It was a big sum for me, but I managed to gather it. I should have passed it in a park, left on the bench and walk away. But I hid nearby to look who will take money. It was Michael. Yes, It was dark already but I sure it was him! That’s why I came to his apartment that day. I wanted to talk. But I haven’t seen him that day. I was ringing the bell and even kicked a door but no one answered although I heard that someone walking inside. I didn’t want to leave, so I was sitting on the staircase almost an hour.
- Can you prove your story?
- Yes, I still got that email. It is still on my phone, look.
- But We haven’t found a bag or such a sum of many in cash in his apartment. Are you sure it was him?
- As I told you, It was dark, but I am pretty sure it was Michael.
- As we understood He was quite a wealthy guy, why would he blackmail you?
- I don’t know! But maybe…
- Do you have something to say?
- Listen, I don’t know for sure, it’s just rumour, but I heard someone was saying that his Rolex is fake, and he sold his car recently. He said he wanted to buy something new, but I don’t know… As I said it just rumours.
- Ok, Mr Miller, you are free now but don’t leave a city we might have more questions.

III A Price for the Treasures by Anna Koval
Antique shops are usually associated with dust and nerdy elderly owners, however, David ruined that stereotype. This charming 35-year-old man inherited his business from his grandparents, who raised him, after his parents died in a car accident, when he was six. At first it was rather loss-making, but just in two years he succeeded in turning it into a gold mine, owing to his attractiveness and an innate entrepreneurial streak. His frequent visitor was Michael, who lived on the corner of the street, where David`s antique shop was located. Michael was rather an admirer, than a customer, as he had his own private collection of antique things, which he bought for the exorbitant amount of money every time he was abroad. In two days before his death, he even invited David to his flat to show him a new pride of his collection – a 800-year-old fragment of mask, which belonged to the chief of Aztecs.  Than David was frustrated: masks are his weakness and he could not bear the thought that someone, but not he can possess such masterpiece. Anyway, David always liked his long intellectual conversations with Michael over a cup of coffee. First of all, because Michael was a real connoisseur, but not too snobbish, that is a rarity. And secondly, because David felt lonely after he moved into this city after death of his grandparents, and no posh parties, which he often visited, could not fulfil the emptiness in his heart. In fact, Michael was the only person who at least seemed to be his friend. However, in the last months David started to be jealous of Michael`s success. Due to the crisis, his income decreased drastically, he could not afford continuous travels in a search of new treasures for his collection no more.  For David his shop is more than just a business. His visitors are his friends, his assortment of goods is a point of his pride, his shop is his life. Only God knows what he is capable for to save his business and make it prosperous.


IV Suspect Profile by Vera Baklanova
Jenny woke up earlier today, despite the school being cancelled for the rest of the week. Some tragic death of a faculty member, oh well, a high school senior could hardly care. “Boo-hoo, someone’s dead. Aren’t we all dead inside anyway?” -- that was the only thing she had to say about that.
Jenny brushed her hair and watched her mouthwash vanish into the drain, staining the sink with a light shade of red. She couldn’t help but think about blood (“naturally, because of the colour!”) being washed away and the steam from the hot shower filling the room. She took a hard look at her reflection, overanalyzing each tiny imperfection, as any teenager would. Her undereye area wasn’t doing that great, and she had a couple pimples that had popped out because she forgot to take her makeup off before falling asleep in her clothes. Her nails could also use some clipping, they were overgrown to the point of dirt piling up under them.
Jenny reached for the bathroom cabinet for her manicure scissors, but then remembered she no longer had them. In fact, she never had any.
Jenny decided that the unscheduled autumn break was a sign. She had to do something different with her life. Organizing her wardrobe seemed like a great challenge for the first day of her new life. Getting rid of anything torn, ripped, stained was sure to cleanse her from the trials and errors of the past. But she wasn’t going to stop at that.
With all the tragedy at school, the stress it caused her, Jenny needed a reset button. A way to forget all about the teachers being murdered, the SAT’s and GPA’s, all kinds of stressful stuff. Jenny needed… a haircut.

V Mary-Ann by Valeria Yatskevich
Mary-Ann was sitting at the bench near the campus. It was break between lessons and she decided to go out from the building to breathe the fresh air. Her hands were closely put on her knees in purpose of stop trembling.
Janet creeped to the girl from her back and shouted loudly with a grimace: ‘I`ll kill you!’
‘Oh! How dare … You scared me!’ Mary-Ann cried out with the reproach. She tried to breathe deeply.
‘You are just little chicken. You became so pale as dead man’, Janet said with laughing. She sat down at the bench near the girl. She looked at Mary-Ann with screwing up her eyes and continued: ‘You so easily frighten now, but I`m sure that you aren`t scared of darkness, are you? Yesterday I phoned you late at night, but you didn`t answer. You were not at home, were you? I`m jealous of your freedom. You are luckily that your parents are abroad now ’.
‘You phoned me, really? I was tired and fell asleep early. I am sorry I didn`t answer’, the girl said quietly.
‘Stop joking. The love doesn`t need any excuses. Did you forget about our agreement? I`ve found the ancient coin you asked me about in my father`s collection. He allowed me to take it and do with it whatever I want. So take this, it`ll be a fantastic present for your secret love’, Janet said grinning from ear to ear and stretched out her hand with the little round box.
Firstly Mary-Ann  looked at it motionless. Then she took a deep breath and took the box, but her hands were trembling and she dropped it.
‘I hope, your hands are trembling from excitement. Your boyfriend should be delighted with it if he adores history as you said’, Janet said with raised eyebrows. She quickly took the box from the ground and put it into Mary-Ann`s hands.
‘Thank you. I think he will like it’, the girl said sadly. She bit her under lip.
‘Doubting? You`d better doubt about wearing this dress at the morning. Wearing long sleeves when the weather is so warm. You are criminal ’, Janet said shaking her head.
Marry-Ann  smiled and thought that she didn`t know how to hide her bruises in another way.
‘Thank you again, but I should go to the classroom. I don`t want to be late at the Maths lesson’, Mary-Ann said.
‘Don`t hurry up. I think the lesson won`t start at time. You are my best friend and I want to be the first who told you some interesting news ’, Janet said and crossed her arms. She said without smile: ‘I was passing by the director`s cabinet and incidentally  heard his conversation with the police officer. Okay, you look at me like the judge’, Janet said and shrugged her shoulders. ‘Not incidentally. I stopped  near the door and listened to their conversation. Our teacher of Maths, Mr. Michael, oh, I always forget his surname, but now it does not matter. He passed on not by his wish yesterday. If I heard right, he was killed by scissors’.
Mary-Ann lowered her head rubbing her eyes. She tried to keep calm and not to burst into tears. She wanted to scream, but she cleared her throat and said by trembling voice: ‘I had a lesson with him yesterday. I, I … ’ she cupped hands over her  mouth and finished the phrase in her mind: ‘… love him’.
‘Oh, darling, it should be hard for you’, Janet hugged the girl. She looked at her with worry.  ‘Maybe, you are the last who saw him alive. Except the murderer, of course. I think, the police officer will interrogate  you. But he can`t do this without those who are responsible for you, can he? But don`t become upset. It is not your guilt, my little friend-chicken. I know you`ll be thinking about his death all day, so maybe we go somewhere after school? Just to distract you from dark thoughts. Do you want to buy something?  ’
‘Well, I think, I need to be at home in a case that the police officer will come  to talk to me. But going somewhere is nice idea. Actually, I  can`t find my manicure set, I need to buy a new one. I`ll phone you if I have time’, Mary-Ann said quietly and breathe out loudly. ‘News are horribly interesting.  Let`s go to classrooms’.
‘Don`t worry. Everything will be alright’, Janet said and thought with sneers: ‘But not for Michael’.

VI The Pizza Deliverer by Anastasiia Demianchenko 
Why do so many people enjoy Hawaiian pizza as the most tasty dish in the whole world ? It is so funny to say but Dave was sick of dealing with it. No one could realize but this job is very exhausting. It makes him to get around of thousands new addresses for one long hopeless night. Green guys are persuaded that pizza deliverer is a shameful dirty occupation for a handsome 38-year-old male with a long-life history...
By the way this night a handsome 38–year-old man got a fatal order:
«Hello! «Happy Pizza House» welcomes you. May I take your order?», Dave said with forced smile and false enthusiasm.
«Hi! I need one Hawaiian pizza and a big bottle of fuzzy cola. My address is house 7, 115 Marbey Avenue. I will pay by card».
«Yes, one second, sir», Dave was barely keeping tears of happiness. The next minute he just couldn’t say nothing. It seemed that Dave had caught a lovely sounding voice of a person who turned upon his meager life.
«What’s a hell… Are you sleeping there ?», the note of irritation and confusion sounded briefly from interlocutor.
«Michael… Baby, is that you…?», pizza deliverer asked with all tenderness and love. But Michael didn't let finish  the sentence. Silenсe…
I just couldn’t believe… I heard the voice of my sweaty boyfriend. Why he did not recognize me…? I am still in love with tiny Mickey. The faintest memory is enough to give my hope. It is my great fortune. No time for tears, I must reveal our relationships.
Dave sat in the car and started the engine, turned on the transmission and drove forward. All the way to Marbey Avenue, he keeps thinking about love story that started many years ago. That time Michael was the teacher, and this young pizza man was a poor laboratory assistant in the North college. Michael and Dave were both keen on archaeology and fatal hobby connected two hearts. They were travelling around the world and spending all free days in crazy digging.
In one minute all bright memories occupied Dave’s mind. So he was talking to himself all way to Michael’s home.
Last illegal excavation brought me to the prison for a long 5 years. I made my sacrifice for my Mickey and only one thing reminded me about last blue passion is the little manicure scissors of Victorian’s time that was our first find.
Being in prison the first month my soul was too carefully protected from the terrible sordid truth. I remembered that my honey had promised to go away with me and got married after my release. Moreover, he guaranteed to build the house for us with a sweet garden. This hope warmed my heart and gave me the chance to turn over a new white leaf. Every evening I was dreaming about my prospective pedagogical career and renewed social status. But one day Fate’s slapped myself very hard. I found that two insolent prisoners were rooting round in my things. Craziness… But they attentively looked at my intimate photo with an animal noise. Big Bill and silly Roy exposed blue secret about my sexual orientation. The next night and the following years I was a victim of violent rapists that crippled my body and soul. This humiliating treatment was my past which I sacrificed to one man…. No tears any more…. Tonight Mickey had found me, and he is still waiting for my arrival.
The car slowly parked near the new built house with a marvellous garden and sign up there says Welcome to Michael place. The poor light in the window and Michael’s graceful posture makes the willing to kiss and hug Mickey immediately. It looked so sweet for Dave.
Hurry up…. Hurry up… Doorbell… Dave runs into house… Shock… A strange naked woman… A blood pool… Mickey….

VII He Reminds of my Son by Sofiia Merzlikina 
Jackson was sitting slightly smiling. He looked like a patient and discreet person, however, everyone in the division knew about his anxiety. Two weeks. One body. More than 10 interviews and no trails. There is kind of hope for this next suspect.
- "Next, please", - he sighed and took a deep breath. An old woman (73 years old ), suspect number 3. Place of origin - Ottava, widow. Relation to the victim - landlady. -"Ms. Willer, I would kindly ask you to start from the very beginning". The woman was crying and sweeping all the time, giving a hard breath after each of her sentences. -"I told you, I told you before... Such a nice guy, with nice habits, he always paid on time. And so much blood, can you imagine - we spent two days cleaning it. And how cruel it was, these scissors wouldn't let him die fast. He was lying on the floor and bleeding. Poor Michael..."
- When did you find the body? Please describe the details from the very
beginning. Did you notice anything suspicious around the house and inside it? - Well, I don't remember the exact time... I visited our "Club of the old and
strong" gatherings. Most of the people there are disabled or fall in amnesia, however, I am still sober, as you can see. Martha brought some cookies and it was quite a good meeting. - What about the house, Ms. Willer? - It was closed as usual. Michael was very accurate and had his own key. I
never visit that part of the house, but I needed to go to the cellar. So I found him in the hall on the way to it. - Can you recognize the object on the photo? - I doubt if I've ever seen these scissors. I'm very bad about operating with
small things and anything handmade. My eyesight is so poor, there is no any possibility to use such things. - What were your relationships with Michael? Did you notice any changes in
his behavior? - He seemed to be anxious for the last time. It's not surprising since he is a
teacher, sometimes he the girls from the school came for additional classes. He was really a good person, you can be sure. Michael reminds of my son,
Daniel. Daniel was killed in Iraque, he was an officer. A brave, young man who lived for his homeland. Now I am completely alone. - I'm really sorry to hear that, Ms. Willer. Can you describe the body when
you found it? - Describe the body? How do you dare to ask me to describe my son's body?
Whom you suspect? If you can't do your job, I'm leaving right now. - I'm asking you about Michael, mam. - Michael is dead, someone killed my poor son! It should be one of those
cunning girls who came to our house. He was going to move out and leave me, and he better did that. He would leave for another mission soon. - Ms. Willer, are you sure you aren't confu... - What? I told you all that I should. Go and find who killed my poor boy. - Thank you. Could I escort you to the taxi? - I don't need any help. As I told you, I am still sober. I am old, but I am still a
lady with dignity. - We will call you if we have any other questions or need more details. Jackson will not go home today to have a dinner. And maybe tomorrow will be the same. How difficult are these women with dignity? He definitely needs to talk with her one more time. But which questions without involving her bipolar?

VIII Detective Story by Evgeniy Stepanenko 
It was an ordinary Thursday morning when Michael found out, that his good friend Adam, who also was his colleague, was a winner of state award for best historical research, his price was 50 000$. This news made his morning and Michal expected to see Adam to congratulate him. He knew that his coworker didn’t have classes that day, so Michael was planning to give his friend a visit after work. Unexpectedly, that day in school felt longer usually, even though all in three classes his student had their final Math’s tests, so Michael walking across his students, watching them not to cheat.
Leaving school that day was incredibly refreshing as Michael knew he was going to meet his good friend and had a great time. Twenty minutes after he left his workplace Michael knocked Adam’s door. Adam didn’t expect to see his friend but invited him to enter the house for a cup of tea. Everything was fine until Michael started to ask questions about Adam’s nomination, it seemed anxious as he immediately stood up and started walking circles around a sofa. Adam tried to talk about something else but was unsuccessful in it, Michael had loved history since childhood, so he kept asking questions. Moreover, he askes his friend to let him read a text of award-winning research and despite at first rejecting this request, Michael got right before leaving his friend’s accommodation.
Two days later Michael came to Adam’s class. He was curious about some details of Adam’s research. Michael was sure that Adam’s script had some serious mistakes and thought they could correct to make work valid. Also, Adam assured his friend that everything was correct Michael was sure he was right and promised to prove it with historical documents. After his last lesson Michael went to research library to find the information he needed to confirm his thoughts.
When Michael came home, he started reading documents which he took at the library. As he was divorced, he leaved alone so nobody could distract him from that work. He spent a few hours at his desk and got really tired, so tired that he didn’t notice someone coming into his house. That person quietly came to the cupboard, took manicure scissors on it and stalked right behind Michael. In a second that person stabbed Michael in carotid. Last thing Michael heard was: “You won’t take my victory Michael!”. Two days later he was found dead in his house. Some teacher came to Michael to find out why he hadn’t came to work.

IX Michael by Ruslana Piroh
Michael was stabbed to death with a manicure scissors on his throat. It happened at night.
Morning sun was lighting the room which kind of looked like a mix of history museum and kid’s bedroom. The shelfs on the right wall were packed with fairy tail books, supposed to be colorful but covered in dust. On the left side of the room the picture was even stranger. The small child’s red boots, brand-new but old-fashioned, were standing next to some fake history artifacts from different periods having no connection between them. And having even less connection to the toys also covered in dust.
The young cute-looking girl walked to the room. She unbuttoned her light-pink jacket and walked right to the window. She opened it and lit a cigarrete. It seemed like she wasn’t interested in the room at all. Than the older man carefully walked in taking off medical gloves:
- If I wouldn’t know you well enough, I would take your license right now, detective Miranda.
Miranda didn’t react, she kept smoking her marlboro and watching the street chaos outside. The man took a look around and sat into the chair in front of the window.
- The body was found in the bathroom. It’s a small room, located right to your left when you enter the apartment. The door was closed. The body was in the bath tube. On the victim’s neck was a large stab wound. The death was immediate, around 1 am. The killing tools are scissors. No fingerprints beside his own. It wasn’t a school day, so no one was searching for him. He was found on New Year Eve by his colleague, Mrs Alison Crowbernhem. It was not a suicide. There was no trace of resistance. Nothing was stolen according to his neighbor, but you can’t trust this conclusion yet. He wasn’t close enough with anyone, rarely had any guests. He used to tutor at school after classes, but stopped a year ago. Scissors were found in water.
The woman was still looking busy with the view and didn’t look like a thankful listener. She slowly finished her cigarette, put a mentol gum in her mouth and finally turned to the man.
- He was murdered, agree. He was a good teacher, but always dreamt of being a historian. His family forced him to choose another profession. Never was close with his family to tell them what he really wanted and too scared to disappoint them by making bad decisions. The only passion he had was his daughter, Mary. She died at age 4, over 15 years ago. His wife divorced him before it was 40 days after Mary’s death. Got married the same year, raising twins now.
She stopped for a second and took a picture of the small girl wearing a rabbit costume from the wall. The man was trying to say something, but Miranda started talking again:
- Nice kid. Born with mongolism. He loved her more than anything ,- her face changed for a second, but then she put on  a straight mask again.
- How do you…?
- And there is someone who was close with him. Check his laptop and mailbox.
The man stood up quickly to grab the laptop laying on the bed but then freezed after hearing the whisper from his college:
- By the way, his daughter was murdered the same way.  Manicure scissors.
- I have no idea what is going on inside your head, but… ,- he walked to the window, pushed her to the windowcell and kissed her holding her cheeks.
- The murderer was never found.
- I have checked her records. It was suicide.
- Was it?
- You don’t think so. Why?
She looked at him and finally kissed him back. Slowly rushing his dark smooth hair with a few gray curls, too inappropriate for the man in his thirties.
- Do you have plans for tonight?
- I do.
- What about this weekend?
- Busy.
- Okay. I got it.
He took the pack of Marlboro from her pocket and lighted a cigarette.

X Murder by Vivsyk Roman
It happened twentieth november. About 19pm. The neighbor of Michael coming back from the job saw opened door to Michael flat. What surprised him powerfull. He knew Michael as shut man, who was talking only with student, because it was required by job. Divorce influenced on him strong(He has lreduced talking with people since divorcing). When Nick came in his flat to know what happened( because  Michael always shut his doors), he saw dead Michael on floor, draining by blood. From his throat sticked up  a manicure scissors. He was scared and at that time called to police. He was pillaged. On his left hand were traces of hand watch, there was everything turned upside down. As police says there were stolen 10 thousands$. There were three suspects. It was his neighbour Nick who was staying in falt of Michael and his student Ann who always came to take lessons at him.
Police made investigation. The asked all livers of the building, all workers and teachers of school, nobody could find any reason why, and for what could be killed Michael. He was known as calm, cultural, modest, hardworker man.
For first police examined his past wife, but they had nothing on her, she has lived  in other city since divorce. Paying np aatention divorce and forgotten love, she couldn’t find a place, she lost her head as she knew about death of Michael. Second was Nick, who called police, police had no proofs on him, he had no sens to kill Michael, because he has never been his friend. Nick was veyy observant, he saw that Michael always shut the doors. And The last suspect was Ann who didn’t answear on calling of police and wasn’t at home. Later she was seen at the other end of the city. When police got address of flat of her friend, Ann wasn’t there but there was her afraid friend(Kristina) who told everything what police asked and what didn’t ask. Ann was cought in airport, she tried to run, there was found that 8 thousand$, she had time to spend 2 thousand $ ,after searching her flat, police found that stolen hand watch, which left form of watch strap.
At the end of ends, after tribunal, Ann got 15 years leaving freedom in hight security prison.

XI Assistant by Ilariya
- Ok, Mr Williams, Let’s start. Tell us how you know the victim.
The man who was sitting in an investigation room was 25 years old, but he still looked and dressed as a teenager. The investigator couldn’t help notice how often a man was looking nervously on a double-sided glass. As if he was afraid of someone who could have stayed there.
- I’m his assistant … was … I was his assistant.
- What were your duties?
- I prepared documents, printed things, booked flights and hotel room for him, made coffee… That sort of stuff
- And was he a good boss?
- Yes sure. I liked working on him.
- We maintain another information. We were told that he was always shouting at you, never was satisfied with you, was throwing things.
- Yes … he was a little bit short tempered, but he wasn’t that bad, - assistant looked desperate. It seemed he was about to cry.
- We also find out that you had an unsuccessful suicide attempt which you commit because of him. What would you say now?
- It was horrible working with him, - the guy looked on his trembling hand, but seemed he didn’t see them. – I was consuming soothing pills few per time. After a suicide attempt, he didn’t change. He just gave me some more money and said that I should go see a psychiatrist and that he had no time for my Hysterics. But I couldn’t leave, I couldn’t find a job with so good salary.
An assistant looked on the investigator.
- He was a complete jerk with me, but I didn’t kill him. You should talk with his ex-wife. He always told that if he won’t kill her she will. They hated each other, especially closer to the divorce, and things don’t get any better after.