A call to the cell phone caught me at breakfast, that is, about four o'clock in the afternoon. I have such a job, the schedule is not normalized, so I sleep when I succeed. I put down my cornflakes with milk, picked up the phone. Nikita called, but he does not call on trifles.

- At the device.

- Tyoma, I'm on the case.

- As always. Spit it out.

- There is work. From Dmitry Sergeyevich.

“So it's a serious matter.” What or who do we do?

- You see, the task is not quite normal.

- Usual and we do not happen.

- This have not happened before.

- Oh, okay, you need to crush your boobs as if you are not the first day! Speak as it is, do not walk around the bush, for us there are no impossible tasks.

- Do you remember Dmitry Sergeevich's nephew?

- Kirill something? Of course I remember, how can you forget this. What, this goldfinch has become a lot to take on, interferes with his uncle? There will be no problems with it. To teach him a punishment or to the archangels on a date to send?

“No, no, what are you saying, you can't touch him, he's the only and beloved nephew!”

It's a pity!

- Well, what's the matter then ?! Again, you Kissel plant!

- He has problems at school, with a history teacher. All teachers as teachers, intelligent, Pyaterochka draw a relative of such a respected person, they know that soon the USE and he still enroll in a prestigious university. And this rested forehead, they say, teaching honor does not allow her to put above two!

“Only we have the task of taming the obstinate teacher, right?”

- Exactly.

“I really thought that the task was extra-complicated, and here it was utter nonsense.” She doesn’t like him fives, he will put dozens after our visit!

- I think our guys attract no sense?

- Yes, there will be too many of us.

- There is another nuance.

- What else?

- Cyril wants to participate in the process.

“Does this sucker have a lump or something, a-ha-ha-ha!, Smoking at a historic?”

- No dick funny.

- The stump is clear, not funny. This ghoul can us all the work to fuck up. And what does he want to do, whoever is not enough for him?

- Yes, hell will understand them, these majors, with fat are furious! But you understand the desire of the client and all that ...

“Okay, not ssy, and not such problems were solved, but this one is completely trivial.” We'll come up with something.

- Yes, I do not ssu. Two days to prepare us enough?

- What is there to cook? In the evening we will discuss the plan, and tomorrow you can get down to business.

- Okay, then, till the evening.

- Until the evening, bye.

I'm dropping a call.

Yes, the youngster had already completely lost the bar, since he decided to involve people like Nikita and me into such trivial matters. Usually we are trusted to remove competitors from the road, too curious journalists, arrogant garbage. Even if it is just a serious conversation, it is with respectable people, and not with some teacher. We solve real problems, rather than digging in the sandbox. But nothing can be done, Dmitry Sergeyevich is one of the best customers. He pays well and does not tolerate objections.

In the evening I, Nikita and Kirill, over billiards and beer, discussed the upcoming operation. We decided not to pull the tires and turn everything tomorrow morning. Just Sunday, Galina Stepanovna has a day off. She lives, as Cyril assured, alone. Before lunch should be managed.

And so Nikita and I are sitting in the car, a block from Galina Stepanovna’s house, waiting for Kirill. Outside it is overcast, dirty snow on the roadside, puddles in thin crusts of ice, typical March weather.

- Well, where is this fool, already half an hour late! - I resent.

- Looks like his beha rides.

Indeed, the blue BMW M3 bursts into the parking lot, wagging and spraying dirty puddles and dramatically slows down next to us. Kiryusha, clearly drunk, is falling out from behind the wheel and, walking a little, staggering towards us. The floors of his expensive coat unbuttoned in the mud, the black hairs were disheveled, his face was a silly slobbering smile.

- Well, what, pagni, let's start! - wryly grinning, he tries to command us.

- We sort of agreed yesterday - to be cucumbers by morning.

- Come on, I just drank a shot of brandy, for courage.

Nikita and I scowl at each other and Nick is trying to calm the young man:

- Let you sit here, and we ourselves will do everything.

“Not a hega like that,” he said, “the contract was with me, and the contract is bigger than money!”

- Well, do you want us to take the video with her remorse? - understanding all the hopelessness of this proposal, I try to persuade him.

- What are you, pgoblem from Dmitriy Seggeevich want? Do not want you, we argues find, and pozgovogchivy!

Yeah, it smelled fried! I whisper to Nikita:

- Ok, and so we can handle.

“All right, let's go,” he agrees, “just bring yourself in order, Cyril.”

That offended pout and so plump lips:

- Yes, I am already in the routine, there is no place better.

- Then let's go, we act according to the plan.

We get out of the car, in the shower cursing this “burly freak”, we stretch police caps, fix the form, fasten our jackets and go to the house of our victim. Nikita and I are in front, Kirill is slightly behind. No, we are not policemen, but the form is real, as are the certificates, and a statement from the neighbors. Well, almost real, not distinguishable from real ones, you can’t laugh at it. Nikita has a real machine gun on his shoulder, AKSU-74, and I, as an officer, have a PM in a holster and a leather briefcase in hand. Well, the rest Cop pribludy like taninators and handcuffs, of course. Around the usual sleeping area with Khrushchev, mud, puddles, empty playgrounds, pigeons, stray dogs and gloomy passersby. We approach the desired entrance in a typical five-story building, scaring away some drunks in the gazebo, quickly retreating to the rusty garages at the sight of us. On the steel door code lock with clearly distinguished from the frequent use of buttons: 4-5-6. We go inside, go up to the second floor, call the right door. Kiruha waiting for the signal at the third. Silence. Call again. A female voice is heard:

- Run, run, now, get dressed only!

We are waiting for about a minute. The peephole gets darker, then lights up again. The same voice, but with a frightful note:

- Who's there?

- Police, district authorized senior lieutenant Kovalev. You received a statement of public disorder.

- Can not be!

- Maybe. Here is a statement from the neighbors, which says that you watch TV at night too loudly. Open, please, we will take an explanation from you and leave.

- And who is the second?

- Sergeant Patrol Nikitin.

The locks click, the door opens, but remains on the chain. A petite, rather young and pretty curly blonde with horn-rimmed glasses peeks into the slot:

- Show the paper.

I show her the “statement from neighbors” concocted last night, poking me with a “crust”. The cat meows behind the door, rubs against the fat legs of the hostess in slippers.

- I do not know such. This is from what apartment?

- Above, from the 38th, they recently entered.

- I kind of know them, they never had any complaints to me.

I depict the sadness and fatigue that has accumulated from the annoying residents of my site:

- Do not worry you so. You will write in the explanation that nothing was broken, there will not even be a fine. Do you think we want to do all this? We ourselves are not thrilled, but what to do: there is a statement, we must react. Delov something just for a couple of minutes, write what and how, and we leave to catch the real criminals.

- Well, if so, then I'll probably let you in. Just call the neighbors first from the top, find out what they think about this.

Before she could close the door, Nikita pushed her along with Galina inside with a powerful blow of the case. She flies into the wall opposite, the back of her head hurts, the glasses fly to the floor, the cat runs to the kitchen with a scream. Yeah, it wasn’t enough noise! I wriggle a limp woman's hands behind my back, fasten handcuffs, seal my mouth with tape and drag her into the room. I notice that Cyril is already there. All on the nerves, eyes are burning, hands are shaking ....