investigative team to the scene.
Lt.-Colonel Bratishko, Deputy Chief,
Babushkinsky Dept. of lnternal Affairs.
Who's going to do the operative work,
Moscow or Babushkinsky department?
We are.
Great. Go ahead.
Comrade Merkulov,
is it a murder or a suicide?
Murder.
A normal man can't squeeze his
head into such a small loop.
But if we suppose
he hanged himself,
this classical
position of the body,
with the feet
so far up from the ground...
l like everything
about this amazing woman.
Her stern look,
her flaxen hair.
Her way of explaining everything.
Even how she dresses.
Rita never speaks about her
husband, as if he didn't exist.
Yet everybody knows
that Major-General of the Soviet Army
Sergey lvanovich Schastlivy
is serving now in Afghanistan.
Well, Konstantin Dmitriyevich,
have you spotted a good mushroom,
or there're just toadstools?
Konstantin Dmitriyevich,
may l speak to you for a minute?
Take a look.
Oh, damn!
The boy and the girl saw
the victim with two other men.
A tall, athletically
built, dark-haired man
and a blond man of average
height in a checkered overcoat.
There's the testimony
of a lieutenant from the cordon.
He saw the victim trying
to come through to the exhibition.
He seemed nervous,
he had a briefcase in his hands.
Who do you think he is?
Who the hell knows? What's more
important, where's he got the currency?
What if he's some big shot from the
Ministry of Foreign Affairs or Trade?
Yes?
Of course l've informed the KGB,
Criminal and Vice Police.
They're foisting it on us.
l'm sure that within an hour
they'll know everything about him.
The sleep is over, guys.
We got a call, homicide..
Hotel ''Sovetskaya''.
Aleksandr Borisovich, let's
go over it once again from scratch.
A young, sportish-looking woman,
who was found dead,
wasn't a guest of the hotel.
That room was reserved in the name of
Viktor Nikolayevich Rakitin.
An interesting detail.
During the day, the guest of Room 31 1
left a note for this woman.
When a chambermaid
approached Room 31 1 ,
she heard voices coming from there:
a woman's rapid talk
seemingly making excuses,
and a man's insistent voice
asking about some duplicates.
The maid came back to her post
and read the note.
Lera, l'm off to meet Biggy.
Will wait in the room. Viktor.
At this point she heard
a pop-like sound,
as though a window was slammed shut.
Two men came out of the room.
One was a tall brunet, the other -
a blond in a checkered overcoat.
The maid entered the room
and saw the murdered woman.
The woman died of a gunshot
wound in the heart.
During the examination, an empty
cartridge was found,
and a notebook
with only one entry on the page
marked ''L'' - ''Lesya 15 rubles'',
and with initials on the first page,
apparently of the notebook's owner -
V.S. Kupriyanova.
l have a version.
Kupriyanova was killed by
her lover Rakitin's men.
Therefore, if we find
this character,
we'll automatically
solve the murder case.
No, we won't.
Lieutenant-Colonel Bratishko
just called from the exhibition.
The body has been identified.
The victim's name is Rakitin.
Viktor Nikolayevich Rakitin,
the guest staying in that room.
lt's absolutely clear,
comrade lawyers,
that both crimes
have something in common.
l suggest we unite
both cases into one
and pass it on to
the Babushkinsky Prosecution Office.
That's it, taps.
Today is Saturday, November 18.
We got a toilet clogged
in our apartment.
Shit is flowing all over.
A very electrified atmosphere.
- Well, what?
- A clog. You need a brigade.
l know it's a clog. Where're you
going? Who's going to fix it?
Don't look for a culprit. The shit is
going to flow down to the lower floor.
Watch your language!
And you call yourself a detective.
l just call things by their names.
lt's not shit, Sasha.
lt's fecal waters.
Excuse me, but your shit
is flooding our gas-range.
What do we have to do with it?
Speaking.
Hello, Konstantin