A person who loves the rain - стр. 6

– "Vladimir Vladimirovich is currently busy," reported the secretary, a woman in her fifties. Everything about the place screamed "village administration," from the open window to the wildflowers in a vase on the windowsill and the very modest decor of the room.

– "Following a trend or just a namesake?" he asked, seeing that the secretary was flustered.

He continued, – "Just kidding. I'm from the prosecutor's office. Let him know I'm here."

Alexei had often noticed that the word "prosecutor" had a certain magic to it. Important meetings would end abruptly, encounters with prostitutes at the workplace would be cut short, and all sorts of shady dealings would come to a halt. Soon, a young woman emerged from the office, and Alexei stepped inside.

He was greeted by a man in his fifties, of medium height, full-figured, dressed in a white shirt and tie. He extended his hand and smiled, flashing teeth as white as those in a toothpaste commercial. Though no longer young, Alexei quickly understood the recent departure of the young woman—the man was still attractive, with graying hair that only added to his charm. His firm handshake suggested he kept up with some form of exercise, and although he had a slight belly, it was clear that he remained appealing to women.

Alexei shook his hand, and the man gestured for him to sit down.

– "So, what can I do for… our prosecutor’s office?"

– My name is Alexey Sergeyevich Martynov, about those swamps of yours…

– Ah… – the man didn’t let him finish. – Oh, sorry, – he quickly corrected himself.

– No worries, go on, – Alexey nodded to him in agreement.

– I am Vladimir Vladimirovich, head of the local administration… There was an unpleasant story there… But you'd better talk to the locals. I only know bits and pieces from rumors.

– What was the forestry business about? – Alexey asked with interest.

– There was something like that, the Moscow region was expanding, and back then there was more forest here. There were foresters, they guarded the area. When capitalism kicked in and construction began, that position was gradually eliminated.

– Who worked there? I’d like to take a look at the records.

– Just a moment, – Vladimir Vladimirovich pressed a few buttons and mumbled an order to fetch the documents from the archive. While waiting for the secretary, they exchanged a few polite sentences on unrelated topics, had another cup of coffee, and then there was a knock on the door.

– Yes… Lidochka, come in.

The secretary entered and handed over the documents. Vladimir Vladimirovich took the heavy folder and flipped through a few pages. The secretary left.

– Aha, – he said, – here’s 1981, – he turned a few more pages, his expression becoming more serious, and he pressed the buttons again and shouted,

– Lida! Come in, quickly!

The secretary appeared again.

– What is this?!

She hurried over, looking at the folder in surprise.

– I don’t know… I – she began gesticulating nervously – Vladimir Vladimirovich… you know I… – she was getting more and more upset.

– What’s going on? Tell me, – said Alexey, standing up. The folder was handed to him. Everything indicated that the forester's photograph and his personal details had been removed.

– Who was the last person to access the archive? – Alexey asked.