"Don't worry," he assured calmly. - I achieve my goals by any means.

Her gaze demanded more, and the attentive detective understood this.

“For example, I don’t waste time sending requests to various organizations to get information about a person.” A glance at her glass. “Thanks to my connections, I get it in a matter of minutes, which greatly speeds up the course of the investigation. This is what you need.

She smiled slightly and looked away from the man, who was back on the phone. I didn't know if such a specialist should act like this when discussing the details of an independent investigation. But apparently he had already discussed them with someone else. She only cared about the result.

The detective took a sip of coffee and looked at her carefully.

You decided to search among competitors and people with whom you did business?

Alice nodded in confusion, looking away at the list that lay on the table.

Well, I'll do my job, but...

The detective seemed to hesitate, and she gave him a questioning look.

What you said is another sip of coffee. - It is unlikely that these are people from the legal sphere of business.

"He knew the killer," she reminded her, lowering her voice.

Why would a person get rid of security cameras for a few days? And then return the same cameras.

Alice sighed heavily, looking at the detective expectantly.

And, as far as I know, the investigator who led this case ... - the detective stubbornly did not forget to take a new sip of coffee, - several groups feed him.

She opened her mouth, feverishly assessing what she heard.

Look, I can't refute your information, but Denis never worked for bandits. My husband did not associate with such people.

Do you approve?

His calm tone and slight smile seemed to dissuade me in every word. Tell him now, in the same tone that her hair is black, not red. And she would believe without hesitation.

“Go through the list,” she said, as if she was sending, but in this case not three letters, but to check each of the suspects.

"Don't worry," the detective repeated unwaveringly.

She almost clicked her tongue, but restrained herself. It would be impolite.

Well, the drill was sitting opposite. A stone would envy such calmness.

Prices for services vary. Depends on the method of obtaining data and their volume.

He raised his voice again, and Alice nodded almost imperceptibly. Money is not the problem. But, of course, she didn't say that.

The meeting lasted no more than thirty minutes. Feeling Alice would say that it took two hours. The detective's excessive calmness was exhausting, since she was the exact opposite type of personality. But most likely it was the topic of conversation.

The problem that forced the hiring of a detective. Information about the bandits plunged into a momentary stupor, followed by sincere indignation. He could not. There is no need to contact such people, because the company's income has been increasing every year.

The restaurant was an hour's walk from the house, but Alice chose to walk instead of taking a taxi. I did not come by car, because I was already drunk.

“Excellent,” she ironically threw into space, feeling cold drops on her face.

She looked up as the flow of water intensified, but did not accelerate. She was still walking slowly, looking at one point. The sound of passing cars drove me a little out of my sad thoughts. She paid attention to passers-by, distracted by the shades of their clothes and style.

She shivered, sniffed, and trudged on, hiding her hands in the pockets of her sodden coat. The wind ruffled the bare branches, periodically throwing shreds of water in Alice's face.

I loved the sound of small drops on the asphalt, but a strong wind made the walk as uncomfortable as possible. She frowned and quickened her pace.

She walked into the apartment and threw her bag on the floor. A heavy, water-soaked coat flew off there. She threw off her boots and other clothes. Left in her underwear, she wandered into the dressing room, squeezing water out of her curls as she went.

She quickly adjusted her make-up and lazily pulled on shorts and a black shirt. She walked into the living room, sadly realizing that she was alone in the apartment ...

The next steps were shrouded in mist. With sharp but sure movements, she set the easel in the center of the living room and set the yellowish canvas with a clatter. She scattered tubes of paint on the floor and dropped the palette.

Burning through the blank canvas with her gaze, she dipped the brush into the solvent, then nervously transferring it to the mixture of paints.

Randomly getting into the right shades, she drew straight lines that intertwined into a single silhouette.

She threw away her palette and brush and flicked on her lighter. Returned to work. Oil paints were soaked with cigarette smoke until a simple picture was born.

Silence is an artist's best friend. It turned out to be a fierce enemy of the one who lost the only loved one. The lead lump rose again in her throat, and Alice hurried to take a puff, speeding up the movements of her brush.

Her inspiration was woven from the rain that beat against the glass and the barely noticeable twilight of the room. Inspiration was reinforced by a fresh wound.

She painted only what was firmly planted in her thoughts. Sweepingly, boldly, freely, the brush glided across the canvas.

Alice believed that love lasts forever. She firmly believed that somewhere out there he loved her. And he won't be judged for what he did. After all, he himself did something bad, which led to death.

She put out her cigarette and took a few steps back.

She glanced at the portrait of an unknown, faceless man. A blue question mark was visible on his chest, and the main decoration was a massive black dot between his eyes.

*****

The investigation dragged on, as if an attentive detective read her thoughts and decided to serve the dish cold after all. At the same time, the last touch of her patience thinned out.

Every other day, Alice inquired about the progress of the investigation, hearing in response a line of names of people who could in no way be involved in the murder. Suspects were weeded out, and Alice increasingly recalled the detective's words about gangs.

I spent a lot of time in the office. Diligently studying the necessary information. By analyzing and memorizing, turning it into valuable knowledge. I accepted a difficult challenge for my creative mind. Calculations, figures and other policies of the enterprise were sometimes difficult, but even more often caused outright boredom.

Alice straightened her collar and tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat.

Sitting in the apartment became more and more unbearable, and she went for a walk. She wandered where her eyes looked. And his eyes looked towards a small park near the house.

She breathed in the smell of spring and walked along the path, approaching the site. The children's laughter became more audible. She glanced at the children who were playing, running around the swings, and shouting cheerfully to each other. It was a role she would never play. Unless you decide to adopt or adopt someone.

Long-term infertility treatment proved ineffective. Denis easily put up with his wife's diagnosis and tirelessly enveloped her with moral support.

Realizing that the chances are zero, she abandoned painting and plunged into depression. But the tragedy eventually turned into pleasure. Denis taught her to catch the buzz from the role that was drawn. The roles of a free, crazy artist who burned her life with a bright flame of cigarettes. He proved that two people are also a happy family.

She walked past the platform and sat down on a bench. I looked around. It would be nice to go back to the park with all the tools and draw a vivid landscape. Immerse yourself in the world of nature and the colors of spring.

Perhaps the only thing for which she was grateful to her mother. Too quick-tempered and nervous child, my mother decided to enroll in a painting circle.

Art therapy did not cope with the girl's nervous disposition, but clearly made it known about the talent, the development of which foreshadowed the replenishment of the ranks of professional artists. Graduating from school, Alice knew exactly what profession she would closely intertwine her life with.

“How I want to smoke,” she whispered irritably, twitching her leg.

She regretted a hundred times that she had left cigarettes on the bedside table in the hallway. She exhaled noisily and straightened her legs, rubbing her thighs with her palms. She looked hopelessly at the passers-by, sinking into a strange panic at the thought of returning to the apartment. But the park was stingy with visitors.

A girl passed by. She doesn't have any cigarettes. Two boys passed, chatting enthusiastically about the new music album. You could try, but they are unlikely to smoke at that age. Although… Alice took a breath. After a while, two women passed by. But they looked too well-groomed to poison themselves with nicotine.

Alice grimaced and twitched her legs nervously. I felt like a drug addict looking for someone to get a dose out of someone's pocket.

She raised her head and saw a man. A burly man walked towards her in a relaxed manner, talking to someone on the phone. The stubble gave the image brutality, slightly tousled dark hair, but most importantly, a cigarette was clamped in the lips.

The male.

She called, but he passed by.

The male!

Turned up the volume and the potential savior turned around.

Excuse me, do you have a cigarette? - smiled slightly. “But with fire,” she hastened to add.

Right now, wait, - he said to someone on the phone and put the phone in his pocket.

He unbuttoned his leather jacket in one motion and pulled out a blue-and-white tutu and a black lighter. Everything as ordered.

He held out the open pack, and Alice quickly pulled out a white cigarette. The stranger opened the lighter and gently brought the fire closer to her face, carefully covering it with his palm from a gust of wind.

Slightly leaned forward, making a barely noticeable puff. The sleeve of his jacket pulled back to reveal a massive gold watch on his arm. Alice pulled away.

“Thank you,” she said in relief and took a long-awaited puff.

“Yes, to your health,” a hoarse, sexy voice sounded in response.

The man leaned away, returning to the phone conversation.

Alice narrowed her eyes at him. This half a minute was enough to see everything. Low-set eyebrows - rationality, earthiness. Thin lips - prudence is not alien to him. I didn’t remember what they wrote about eye color in the book that Denis advised to read.

But for sensations, no scientific texts were required. If she had not suffered from a destructive desire to smoke, she would never have called out to the gangster face.

Otherwise, she would not have attracted the attention of this type.

His heavy energy, viciously wolf energy enveloped me immediately. As soon as he approached to give a cigarette. All this was slightly offset by a kind, harmless look. But looks are deceiving.

The desired cigarette quickly disappeared and Alice regretted not taking two. Or three cigarettes. True, I would have to look for fire again.

She finished her cigarette and threw the cigarette butt into the trash near the bench. Didn't like the cigarette. Too tart. She preferred others that were just as strong but with a semi-sweet undertone.

The sun circled faster and hurried to hide behind the red line. Alice got up and, hiding her hands in her pockets, went towards the house. She didn't want to go back, and she was torn between two ideas. Buy a new apartment and start from scratch. Not resetting the past, just from a blank canvas, not forgetting what was drawn on the previous ones. Or stay in this apartment and deal with the depressing memories. After all, every room remembered the presence of Denis.

The sound of footsteps made him turn around.

What are you stalking me for? Should I call the police?

Well, what do you say? - Vanya asked innocently, but with a challenge. - That the person was just walking in the park and walked past you?

I will say that a freak relative is stalking me and threatening me.

Threats? When?

When? – mockingly repeated, taking a step back. - Yes, I think in two minutes. You quickly lose your temper.

"Let's talk calmly," he tried to give his voice a polite tone. - In a family way, - he touched her shoulder, violating personal boundaries.

An expression of disgust flashed across his face. Alice squeezed his wrist hard and pulled the man's hand away. Backed away. The kite changed tactics. Probably following mommy's cunning advice.

But she did not want to play relatives. I always wondered how Denis turned out to be an adequate, non-greedy man, having such roots.

Tell your mom the advice didn't work. And that you will not receive any money or part of the business. How else can I tell you? Pronounce it in syllables? Will it come then?