Игорь Патанин – Seven Elephants (страница 3)

"About what?"

"About another murder. One that wasn't solved twenty years ago."

Elena Andreevna went pale. "What murder are you talking about?"

Anna gathered the papers into the folder. "Dorokhov, take Elena Andreevna home. And make sure there's a patrol unit by her building. I'm going to the detention center."

At the doorway, she turned back: "And find me everything you can about Andrei Savelyev. Especially for the last two years."

The story was growing more complex. The web spun by Viktor turned out to be larger and more terrifying than they had suspected. And somewhere in this web, the third person from the photograph still lurked.

Chapter 5: Confession

The gray walls of the detention center felt oppressive. Anna sat in the interrogation room, staring at her own reflection in the one-way mirror. Over her years of service, she had encountered many criminals, but now she felt an inexplicable anxiety. Something about this case wasn't right, as if they were seeing only the tip of the iceberg.

The door clanged open. Two guards brought in Viktor Mikhailovich. In his gray prison uniform, he seemed smaller, paler, but his gaze remained the same—piercing, studying. He sat down across from her, carefully placing his hands on the table. The handcuffs clinked quietly.

"I've been waiting for you," his voice sounded calm, almost friendly. "I knew that sooner or later you'd find the connection. You've been to see Granin, haven't you? Seen his collection?"

Anna silently turned on the recorder. Viktor smiled—the same smile she had seen in old photographs.

"Do you know the mistake all investigators make? They look for motive. They try to understand 'why.' But sometimes there is no 'why.' Sometimes there's only 'what for.'"

"And what did you do it for?"

"Oh, are you talking about Katya? Or Sophia?" he leaned forward. "Or those whose bodies were never found? Like Masha Svetlova? Twenty years ago, three months before Katya Voronova. Mikhail Stepanovich didn't know about that case. It happened in another city."

Anna felt a chill run down her spine. Another victim. Another family not knowing the truth.

"Tell me about Masha."

"First about the elephants," Viktor leaned back in his chair. "You understand that it's about them, don't you? Not about the girls—about the elephants. Every collection must be completed. Every story must have an ending."

"Where is Sophia?"

"In a safe place. With a reliable person. You've seen his photograph—the third man in the picture. His name is Igor. Igor Vasilyev. Though now, he has a different surname. Just like me."

"Why are you telling us this?"

Viktor tilted his head, examining Anna like a curious exhibit. "Because the game is over. Because the seventh elephant has taken its place. And because you're too late anyway."

At that moment, Dorokhov practically burst into the room. "We found remains," he gasped. "In the forest, near the old chapel. A woman."

"Not a woman," Viktor gently corrected. "A girl. Masha Svetlova. I did promise to tell you about another murder."

Anna stood up abruptly. "Where is Sophia?"

"Well, that," Viktor smiled again, "depends on how quickly you solve the riddle. You know, each elephant has its own story. And each story has its own elephant. White ones for those who have found peace. Blue ones for those who are still waiting."

"Take him away," Anna ordered the guards. At the doorway, Viktor turned back: "Give my regards to Mikhail Stepanovich. Tell him his collection will soon be complete too."

When the door closed behind him, Anna turned to Dorokhov: "Check on Granin immediately. And find everything you can about Igor Vasilyev."

"Already done," Dorokhov handed her a folder. "Igor Vasilyev is now known as Igor Sokolov. He works as a teacher. At the very same school Sophia attended."

Anna felt the ground disappear from under her feet. All these months he had been nearby. Watching. Waiting.

"And another thing," added Dorokhov. "They found a collection of elephants in his office. Green ones. Seven of them."

Outside, the rain was starting again. Somewhere in the city, a physical education teacher named Igor Sokolov was completing his collection. And time was relentlessly slipping away, taking with it the hope of saving Sophia.

Viktor was right. Every story must have an ending. But what ending would this one have?

Chapter 6: The Green Elephant

The physical education office greeted Anna with stale air and the smell of dust. On Igor Sokolov's desk was perfect order: journals in a neat stack, a class schedule in a tidy frame, photographs of sporting events on the wall. And a shelf with elephants.

"Are these definitely the same ones?" Dorokhov carefully picked up one of the figurines.

"Yes," Anna checked against a photograph on her phone. "Imperial Porcelain Factory, the same series. Only green."

Seven elephants stood in a row, as if preparing for a parade. Impeccably clean, without a speck of dust. Behind them on the wall—certificates, letters of appreciation, photographs from competitions. The ordinary life of a school teacher.

"Have you found anything?" the school principal, Valentina Petrovna, appeared in the doorway. A small woman with a tired face and a keen gaze.

"How long has he been working here?" Anna continued examining the photographs.

"This is his third year. He came with excellent recommendations. The children adored him, especially the girls. He conducted additional self-defense classes…"

"For free?" Anna clarified.

"Yes, he said it was his calling—helping children feel safe."

Anna approached the cabinet and opened the door. Sports uniforms, whistles, a stopwatch. And a small notebook, lost among the papers.

"May I?" she showed the notebook to the principal. She nodded.

Anna put on gloves and opened the first page. Neat handwriting, dates, names. Training records? No. Something else.

"Sophia V. Favorite color—blue. Afraid of the dark. Always takes the same route. Loves mint ice cream."

Next page: "Katya V. Plays the piano. Pink unicorn backpack. Music school on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"Masha S. collects badges. Lives with grandmother. Dreams of becoming an artist."

"Dorokhov," Anna's voice faltered. "Check all these names. Every girl."

"Already on it," another officer appeared in the doorway. "In his computer—an entire database. Photographs, schedules, routes. He was tracking all of them."

"And nobody noticed?" Anna turned to the principal. "Nobody paid attention?"

"To what?" Valentina Petrovna threw up her hands in confusion. "That a teacher takes interest in his students' lives? That he helps them, supports them? We thought he was just… a good person."

Anna's phone rang. Granin.

"Come quickly," the old investigator's voice sounded hollow. "Someone's been in my apartment. The elephants… they're gone. All six."

Anna exchanged glances with Dorokhov. "I'm sending a team. Don't touch anything."

"Wait," the principal suddenly grabbed Anna's arm. "Yesterday… yesterday Igor brought a box of chocolates to the teachers' lounge. Said it was his birthday. And this morning he didn't come to work. For the first time in three years."

"Where does he live?"

"In the teachers' dormitory. But he's not there either. And his phone isn't answering."

"Anna Vitalyevna!" a young officer ran up to them. "Look what we found in his locker in the changing room."

He handed Anna a plastic bag. Inside were three red porcelain elephants—exactly like the green ones on the shelf.

"And that's not all," the officer placed a school register on the table. "Look at these markings."

Anna opened the register. Next to some names were colored dots: blue, green, red.

"Red dots—next to the names of three girls from Sophia's parallel class," explained the officer.

"Check on these girls. Immediately," Anna ordered, feeling everything inside her tighten with anxiety.

"Also, we found documents in his home," the officer continued. "In the name of… Igor Vasilyev."