feel smarter than the authors.
The people in the capital contend
that this improbable story
took place in Moscow.
Odessa residents insist that it was
their lovely city where it happened.
Leningrad and Rostov-on-the-Don disagree.
Seven cities contend over this,
just as seven cities call themselves
the birthplace of Homer.
To tell you the truth, it's unknown
where this story took place,
and whether it took place at all.
And so, as you've noticed,
it was a dark night.
The anonymous man tried
very hard to remain undetected,
and at this he succeeded.
It was so dark, quiet and deserted,
that one felt almost compelled
to commit a crime.
- Call Post number 2-06/B...
- Got it!
- Close down all the roads!
- Got it!
Immediately get me the photos
- ...of the treadmarks!
- Got it!
Tanya! You find out about the fingerprints!
So... This is the third car to be
stolen from the same area.
All are the handiwork of the same perpetrator.
Experienced and skillful.
Maxim Petrovich, this hand was working
clad in cotton gloves from factory no. 8.
Then it's not "Gold Tooth" Peter.
And what did we learn from analyzing
the oil which this criminal so enjoys
using on the garage hinges?
Turns out it's refined.
Did you notice that in that yard,
where this theft occured,
and nearby on the street,
many garage-less cars are left overnight?
I did.
And isn't it easier to steal a car
from the street than out of a garage?
That's a very accurate observation.
If one were to apply Stanislavsky's
teachings about the Ultimate Goal,
a curious thought arises:
the criminal is advancing by the
path of most resistance. And why?
Well, when we discover his ultimate goal,
we'll catch the criminal.
That's grand!
Comrade Investigator, I forgot
to inform you of one detail
- ...that might be helpful.
- I'm listening, Comrade Victim.
Above my back-left wheel there's
a swearword scratched with a nail...
Hold on...
Ok...
Which?
Hello, Luba.
I'm back.
Comrades! Please fill the vehicle quickly,
don't just stay near the tail.
Yuri Ivanovich, to get on the trolleybus
enter from the other side.
Here I go.
- Hello, Jacov Michaelovich!
- Oh, hello, Detochkin!
- Well, how's your uncle in Dushanbe?
- Uncle? Poorly.
And last time it was your
aunt from Moldova...
My first cousin.
- I thought you said...
- She passed away.
Yes... We're all mortal, Detochkin...
All but mortal.
But if people did not die,
we wouldn't be able
to sell life insurance, right?
You cannot deny, Detochkin, that
I give you special attention and care.
Each time your relatives
get sick or die,
I grant you unpaid leave.
You're an exceptionally
understanding manager.
That's true, Detochkin, but your
relatives are plentiful,
but I only have very few
staff units... Yes, yes.
You  see, your trips are
interfering with our plans.
I'll make up for it!
Really? Please understand,
Detochkin,
I can't put personal considerations
above public ones, I have no choice.
- I... I'll make up for it!
- Well, go make it up...
- A policeman told me yesterady that
the appointment letter isn't valid. - Why?
- Because you'll need to notarize it.
- Alright.
- Your signature, please.
- Dima, sign it.
To be honest, I don't even know
why I get insurance for my possessions.
What about fires?
It would be a shame if such possessions
were to burn down with no compensation.
Maybe we should insure
our car too?
Did you buy a car?
As you wish. Insurance for
personal cars covers death,
accidents involving collision
or acts of God.
- What about theft?
- Well, not theft.
Mr. Ivanovich, I'm not
yet rich enough
to pay for acts of God...
- And where do you keep it?
- Come here!
Beige... not a garish color.
Don't you have a garage?
Not at the moment.
I keep trying,
but it's not at all easy.
The space is still only a promise,
so no garage yet.
But I already got a lock...
It's Japanese. No one can fool it.
Yes, no doubt it's hard...