The Twelfth Department Read Online Free PDF

resident. I’ve one of my men compiling a list for you.”
    “Good work, Belinsky.” Korolev was beginning to cheer up—if all uniforms were as organized as this fellow they wouldn’t need a Criminal Investigation Division. “How about a murder weapon? He was shot, wasn’t he?”
    “Yes, Comrade Captain.” Belinsky struggled for a moment to hide a proud smile at Korolev’s compliment, before continuing, solemn once again. “We didn’t find anything, but we didn’t search thoroughly either—I wanted to make sure we didn’t mess it up for forensics.”
    “Good work again, Belinsky—let them poke around first. A murder investigation is like a good meal, it shouldn’t be rushed. Are they here?”
    “They arrived about ten minutes ago.”
    “Good,” Korolev said, “very good. What do you know about the body?”
    Belinsky appeared confused, looking between Slivka and Korolev for an explanation.
    “The dead man,” Slivka said patiently. “What do we know about him as a person?”
    “Ah, yes. Of course.” Belinsky flicked forward a couple of pages in his notebook. “Professor Azarov lived in the apartment with his wife, Irina Ivanovna Azarova, forty-seven—no children. And their maid, Galina Matkina—I don’t know her age, sorry, but she’s young enough—anyway, she was the one who discovered the corpse. She told me the professor got up early this morning and he left the house at about 7:30. She made him coffee before he left so she’s pretty sure of the timing.”
    “Go on.”
    Belinsky turned another page of his notebook.
    “He asked her for coffee when he came back at about nine—she doesn’t know where he went in the meantime but he seemed distracted. She last saw him alive at approximately 9:30 when she brought him more coffee at his request. Then she went out to shop, visiting the store on the building premises, entry to which is restricted to residents, and a nearby bakery. She returned just before eleven. She didn’t notice anything unusual on her return, but that might be because she went straight to the kitchen. It was only when she went to the deceased’s study to offer him another cup of coffee that she discovered the condition he unfortunately found himself in.”
    “Dead, you mean?”
    The sergeant nodded. “Definitely dead. Bullet-in-the-head dead.”
    “He really liked coffee,” Slivka said.
    Belinsky turned to look at her—his expression was difficult to read.
    “It would seem so.”
    “And the wife?” Korolev asked, giving Slivka a warning glance. She shrugged.
    “According to Matkina she was at an orphanage on Vitsin Street. She works there in the mornings. She returned at 11:48. I took note of the time, of course.”
    “Slivka—you’ll call this orphanage?”
    “Yes, Chief.”
    “Belinsky, you’ve met the wife and the maid—your impression?” Korolev asked, looking up at the gray building, wondering if it might be possible to tell, just from looking at it, behind which window a murder had been committed.
    “I don’t think the maid had anything to do with it. She’s a simple country girl, very young. Also she dropped a pot of coffee on the study floor when she found him. I don’t think she’s bright enough to have done it to cover something up.”
    “We’ll see. Have someone bring her up to the apartment—we’ll talk to her there. And the wife?”
    “We had to restrain her from entering the apartment and viewing the body—I felt it necessary in case she contaminated the crime scene. She’s with a neighbor at present, a doctor. He had to sedate her.”
    “Can she be questioned?”
    “You’d have to ask the doctor.”
    “Any corroboration of their movements?”
    “The doorkeeper’s name is Priudski—he’s verified that Madame Azarova left the building at 7:50 this morning. I was here when she came back, so we know when she returned for certain. Where she was in the meantime, we haven’t established as yet. Priudski confirms the maid left the