“So, you can imagine, I was sitting in the laboratory one day,” Hilobok rambled on, “and Valentin Vasilyevich came to see me — without his lab coat, I might add! That is unacceptable. There is a specific rule promulgated about this at the institute, a rule stating that all engineering and scientific workers must wear white coats and the technicians and lab assistants gray or blue ones. After all, we are often visited by foreign delegations. It can't be otherwise. But he always disregarded convention, and he asked me in a really nasty tone: 'When are you going to fill my order for the new system? Well, I tried to explain everything calmly to him. 'It's like this and that, Valentin Vasilyevich. We will when we can. It's not so easy to do everything you drew up for us. The circuitry becomes very complicated, and we have to reject too many transistors. In a word, I gave him a good explanation, so that the man would not have any misunderstandings. But he just went on harping: 'If you can't do it on schedule, you shouldn't have agreed to do it! I tried to explain about the difficulties once more, and that we had orders backed up at the lab, but Krivoshein interrupted me: 'If the order is not completed in two weeks, I will file a complaint about you and turn over the work to the science club in a grammar school! And they'll do it faster than you, and it will be a lot cheaper, too! That was a dig at me, that last part. He had always made cracks, but I was used to it. And then he slammed the door, and stalked out.”
The investigator nodded rhythmically and clenched his jaw to hide the yawns. Hilobok buzzed on:
“And five minutes later — note that no more than five minutes had passed; I hadn't even had time to talk to the workshop by phone — Valentin Vasilyevich burst in again wearing a coat this time (he had managed to dig up a gray one somewhere), and said: 'Harry Haritonovich, when will that order for the sensor system be ready? 'Please, I said, 'take pity on me, Valentin Vasilyevich. I explained it to you! And I went into my explanation again. He interrupted like last time: 'If you can't do it, don't try. and then went on about the complaint, the schoolboys, and expenses.” Hilobok brought his face closer to the investigator. “In other words, he repeated exactly what he had said five minutes ago, in the same exact wording! Can you imagine?”
“That's curious,” the investigator nodded.
“And that wasn't the only time he got confused like that. Once he forgot to turn off the water for the night, and the whole floor under the laboratory was flooded. Once — the janitor complained to me — he started a huge bonfire of perforated tape on the lawn. The professor meaningfully pursed his fat red lips, funereally outlined with a black mustache, “and so anything might have happened. And why? Because he wanted to get ahead and he was constantly overworking himself.
No matter what time you left the institute the lights in his lodge were always blazing. Many of us at the institute joked about it. Maybe Krivoshein wasn't aiming for his doctorate but for a break — through right off the bat…. He discovered enough, now go try to figure it all out.”
“I see,” the investigator said and looked down at the sheet of paper once more. “You mentioned that Krivoshein had a woman who was close to him. Do you know her?”
“Elena Ivanovna Kolomiets? Of course! There aren't many women like her in our town — very attractive, elegant, sweet, in a word, you know — “Harry Haritonovich described Elena Ivanovna's inexpressible beauty with a zigzagging motion of the hands. His brown eyes glistened. “I could never figure out, nor could others, what she saw in him. After all, Krivoshein — I know, de mortius aut bene nut nihil, but why hide it? — you saw for yourself, he was no looker. She would come to see him. Our houses are next door in Academic Town, so I saw it. And he never knew how to dress well either. But I haven't seen her around lately. I guess they broke up, like ships in the night, heh — heh! Do you think she had anything to do with this?”
“I don't think anyone has as yet, Harry Haritonovich. I'm only trying to clear things up.” Onisimov got up with relief. “Well, thank you. I hope that I don't need to warn you about gossiping, because — “
“It doesn't need to be mentioned! And don't thank me, I was only doing my duty. I'm always ready….”
After he left, Matvei Apollonovich put his head directly under the fan and sat for a few minutes without moving or thinking. Hilobok's voice rang in his head like a fly buzzing on a windowpane.
“Wait!” The detective shook his head to clear it. “We wasted a whole hour, and he didn't clear up a thing. And all the time it seemed 'as though we were on the topic, but it was all nothing. Scientific secretary, assistant professor, sciences candidate — could he have been trying to throw me off? Something's wrong here.”
The phone rang. “Onisimov here.”
There was only panting on the phone for a few seconds. It was obvious the speaker couldn't get his breath.
“Comrade.. captain.. this is Gayevoy.. reporting. The… suspect… escaped!”
“Escaped? What do you mean escaped? Give me a full report!”
“Well, we were in the GAZ. Timofeyev was driving and I was next to that….” The policeman was muttering into the phone. “That's the way we transport all detained suspects. After all, comrade captain, you hadn't warned us about strict observation, and I couldn't imagine where he could go since you have all his papers. Well, we were driving past the city park and he jumped out when we were going at full speed. Over the fence, and he was gone! Well, Timofeyev and I went after him. Boy, is he good at clambering over uneven ground! Well, I didn't want to open fire since I didn't have any instructions about it from you. So… that's it.”
“I see. Go to the department and write out a report for the captain on duty. You don't do your job very well, Gayevoy!”
“Well, is there anything you'd like me to do, comrade captain?” His voice was glum.
“We'll manage without you. Hurry back here; you'll be part of the search party. That's all.” Onisimov hung up.
“Well, well, the man's an artist, a real artist! And I had doubted him! Of course, it's him. It had to be! So. He had no identification papers. Nor any money. And almost no clothes, just the shirt and trousers he had on. He won't get far. Unless he has confederates… then it'll be harder.”
Ten minutes later Gayevoy, even more bent over by his guilt, appeared. Onisimov organized a search party, distributing photos, and a description with identifying marks. The operatives went into town.
Then Matvei Apollonovich called the fingerprint expert. He told him that some of the prints he collected in the lab matched those of the lab assistant; others belonged to another man. Neither set matched up with any known criminal.
“The other man is naturally the victim, of course…. Ho, ho, this is becoming serious business. It doesn't look anything like a regular crime. It doesn't look like anything with that damn melted skeleton! What can I do about that?”
Onisimov stared gloomily out the window. The shadows of the trees on the sidewalks were lengthening, but it hadn't gotten any cooler. Young women in print shifts and sunglasses crowded near the bus stop. “Going to the beach….”
The worst part was that Onisimov still didn't have a working version of the incident.
At the end of the day, when Matvei Apollonovich was writing out a list for the morning, the commander of the department came in to see him. “Here it comes,” Matvei Apollonovich thought.
“Sit down.” The colonel lowered himself into the chair. “You seem to be having complications in this case: no body, suspect escaped. Hm? Tell me about it.” Onisimov told him.
“Hm….” The commander's heavy eyebrows met. “Well, we'll catch that fellow; there's no question about that. Do you have the airport, railroad, and bus stations under surveillance?
“Of course, Aleksei Ignatievich, I sent out the order immediately.”
“That means he'll never get out of the city. But as for the corpse… that's really something very curious. Damn it all! Maybe they switched things on you at the scene?” He looked up at the investigator with his small, wise eyes. “Maybe… remember Gorky's story Klim Samgin where a character says, 'Maybe there was no boy? “
“But… the doctor in the ambulance certified the death, Aleksei Ignatievich.”
“Doctors can make mistakes, too. Besides, the doctor was not an expert, and she didn't list a cause of death. And there's no body. And our Zubato is having problems with the skeleton…. Of course, it's up to you. I'm not insisting, but if you can't explain how the corpse turned into a skeleton in fifteen minutes, and whose skeleton it is, and what caused the death — no jury is going to pay any attention to the evidence. Even clear — cut cases are being sent back by the courts for lack of evidence, or dismissed completely. Of course, it's good that the law is strict and careful, but…” he sighed noisily, “a… a difficult case, no? Do you have an official version yet?” “I have a draft,” Onisimov explained shyly, “but I don't know how you're going to take it, Aleksei Ignatievich. I don't think this is a criminal case. According to the institute's scientific secretary, the United States is very interested in the case that Krivoshein was studying in his lab. That's point one. Lab assistant Kravets, by his demeanor and cultural level, I
