A lean man with a short haircut and a three-day stubble. In front of her stood one of the kites.

What do you need, Vanya? she asked, hiding her disgust.

How is that? He hid his hands in the pockets of his light jacket and stepped forward. “It's my brother's firm. After such a tragedy, someone has to pick up the business.

“I don’t remember that you were mentioned in the will,” she took a step forward. - And secondly, you do not even have the moral right to appear here. Go away!

Angrily looked into cunning eyes. His rough features were complemented by a smile that looked more like a grin.

"Come on," he stepped closer. - We're a family. It is customary to share with relatives.

Alice smiled broadly and raised her hand. Slowly and demonstratively, she jabbed the middle finger to the man, showing that the business was not subject to division.

There is a will, which clearly states that after the death of Denis, everything goes to me. Only me, - lowered her hand. You are legally powerless.

So, you will transfer part of the business to me.

You, bitch, didn't even show up for the funeral. You didn't care about your brother while he was poor. And now I remembered that I need to share, creature? She clenched the lapel of his jacket in her fist. “All a scumbag like you should get is a line of pretty punches.

“You won’t give up the business,” he squeezed her wrist painfully, “I’ll decorate you so that my mother won’t recognize her.”

Get away from here! With difficulty, she freed her hand from the grip. “And tell your retarded relatives you won’t get a damn thing!”

Vanya bared his teeth and withdrew his hand to strike at the moment when a gray Lexus drove into the parking lot.

Alice breathed a sigh of relief, watching Sergey quickly get out of the car and look intently at the kite. Vanya gave a frightened nod to the man and hurried away.

What was this freak doing here? – asked a friend, quickly approaching.

“He risked his health,” she straightened her red curls and smiled sweetly. “Let’s go cook up a list of suspects.” And explain the basics. Will be studying.

Serezha smiled weakly in response and, once again examining the territory, pointed to the revolving door…

The huge office was distinguished by home comfort. Plasma on the wall opposite the table. Wall shelves dotted with books, soft carpet and light curtains. The office seemed to have been specially arranged in such a way as to create the illusion that a person works at home, and not in the office. The lingering scent of wood added comfort.

Alice rested her palms on the massive oak table. With pity, she looked at the scattered documents and records. Her head was boiling from gigabytes of information, and this information was radically different from what she received at an art school and institute.

Tracking the relationship between profit and consumption of other resources. Production technology and features of the structure of the construction organization. The procedure for concluding contracts.

She clapped her hands on her forehead, exhaling noisily. Here it was worth working with the mind, and not with fantasy and brush movements. There was no place for creative flights, which were embodied in colorful lines. Only numbers, calculations, coefficients.

She slammed her hands on the table as the office door opened. Sergei walked past and sat down in an office easy chair.

“You can still add Danilov,” he said, giving her a glass of coffee.

Gray, we can not include in the list of everyone who you once did not like - with a roar she lowered a hot glass on the table. Did he have a good motive?

“He promoted a project to build houses on unstable ground,” the man explained. - When Denis found out about this, he kicked him out of the company in disgrace. Then there was another scandal. Well, he said that...

"Not likely," Alice interrupted confidently.

How do you know? It could be anyone at all.

“We need to look for high stakes,” she hit the papers with her palm. - Denis played big with someone. And screwed up.

The more names appeared on the list, the faster the determination to enter into a dangerous game faded away. A solid understanding came that these were serious uncles who were fighting for air and power. Animals, and Denis was one of them, but…

Alice flicked on her burgundy lighter and collapsed onto the leather sofa against the wall. She caught Sergei's annoyed look, but only smiled weakly, not even thinking about putting out her cigarette. He didn't like the bittersweet smell, and she simply adored the smoke of her cigarettes.

And the cameras? she asked hopefully. - Cameras in the office. If this happened near the office...

Two days before, Denis ordered to remove the cameras.

What kind of nonsense? Alice leaned forward.

Do not turn it off, but even remove it so that they are not there at all.

What for?

"He never reported, Alice," the man said wearily. - As he saw fit, he did so.

She nodded slowly and clamped her cigarette between her teeth. She gestured for coffee, then took a barely perceptible sip. The friend was telling the truth. These were the main features of Denis - to do it your own way, not to report to anyone, not to ask anyone.

“But the situation was the same in the warehouses,” Seryozha added. - They also ordered to remove all the cameras. And this happened from time to time. They'll bring it back, then they'll shoot it again.

In warehouses? Where are building materials stored?

Yes.

What the hell? – Frowning, she asked.

Sergei just shook his head helplessly.

It's generally interesting. Here ... as if on purpose, your mother! She sighed and walked towards the open window. So the cameras would capture the killer...

What's the point? – quietly asked friend. - Well, they would film it. Well, then these records would disappear.

You need a lead. Besides knowing the killer.“We need a weapon,” his friend snorted, taking a sip of his drink.

“There are enough weapons,” she let out smoke, catching the touch of the wind on her face. “Money,” she added explanatoryly.

Which you will lower for nothing.

"To search and revenge," she corrected. Don't be afraid, I won't touch your share. At one time, I made good money in the paintings. Plus, I had a rich husband.

The friend snorted skeptically and went back to paperwork.

Looking around the parking lot, where something happened that famously repainted her life, Alice realized that she had no support. But she didn't need it either. Visible physical help was required, not moral. Although someone's presence still dulled the bursts of pain.

Like any sane person, Sergey was afraid of such overtures, but she does not care. The new goal helped to cope with the new status.

“I heard that revenge is a cold dish,” the man suddenly spoke up.

"Not my case," came the firm reply. - As for me, this dish should be hot to the limit.

She tossed her cigarette butt into a glass of coffee, enjoying the soft hiss.

The next task was to find an unprincipled, not very law-abiding private detective. Independent searches dragged on, and Alice resorted to the help of an old friend who once did business with Denis. The business went bankrupt and the men each went their own way, but remained friends. He listened attentively and pointed to the right person.

At Alice's insistence, they met at a restaurant. In an informal setting, so that no one would guess about the plans. She felt more and more like she was being watched. The paranoia was over the top. It seemed that everyone knew what she planned to do and how she planned to get there.

The friendly and business conversations of the restaurant's patrons mingled with soft music from the built-in speakers. Alice looked around the interior. Wood, live fire and leather sofas contributed to the rough but comfortable atmosphere. Gray-brown shades formed the basis of the color palette.

She sipped her wine and looked at the detective, who was typing something on his phone, glancing at the provided list, as if he had begun work right at the table. Or stuffed his own value and importance.

A smiling man in a strict black suit, with a studying psychologist's gaze, nevertheless aroused confidence. He gave the impression of a reliable person.

She provided all the data that would help speed up the investigation, focusing on time. She confidently informed the brown-haired woman that she had little time and urgently needed a result.

How law-abiding are you? – neatly asked, stronger squeezing the glass with her fingers.