A person who loves the rain - стр. 7
– No one, it’s been untouched for ages, – the secretary tried to defend herself, waving her hands and wiping tears from her face with the same hands.
– Lida! – the boss slammed his palm on the table.
– I’m telling you, – the secretary yelled in frustration – no one!
– You… sit down. Calm down. No one’s blaming you. Just think, who has access to it? – Alexey reassured her and sat her down next to him, nodding to the boss as if to say, "Enough, stop."
– Well, no one, I have access, our administration is small, and there’s no point in hiring extra staff. Plus, I manage everything myself… I don’t even know, – she explained.
– Lida… has anything suspicious happened? – Alexey asked.
– Nothing, I’m telling you, no… I can’t recall anything.
– You know, I can’t think of anyone – maybe the postman, the plumber, the district police officer, those people whose presence we always trust…
For some reason, she smiled and brightened up.
– Oh, you know, yes! Yes! You’re right, the plumber was there… we had some work going on…
The boss interrupted her and didn’t let her finish.
– The building is old, we’re replacing all the pipes with plastic ones, and… probably left it unattended.
– Maybe, but that’s all… the archive is always locked, and I have the key, – Lida said, looking from one to the other – and the plumber is a bit of a drunk.
– Lidochka, I’ll give you an order – bring Vladimir Vladimirovich and me a glass of cold water. It’s not even hot, but… we’re thirsty.
She left. While she was gone, Alexey asked,
– Who is this plumber?
– Well, maybe it wasn’t him. They’re just guys doing side jobs, acquaintances of an acquaintance.
– Give me the coordinates, – Alexei stepped closer to the person he was talking to.
– Ah… – the boss hesitated, – why did you send her for water? – he smiled as he asked.
– Gotta take care of the staff. Why did you make the woman nervous? – Alexei asked instructively. – She’ll walk around and calm down.
– You’re a psychologist… – the boss smiled again – here you go, – he pulled out a business card from the drawer and handed it to Alexei.
– Got it.
Lida entered, brought some cold water, he drank it and said goodbye.
– By the way, why are foreign cars so expensive? You guys are misusing the national projects… – Alexei asked, suddenly turning around – Just kidding!
– All the best, – the director said to him.
– All the best, – Alexei nodded.
Then he headed to meet the locals. The first house near the forest belonged to Old Man Trofim.
– Grandpa, are you going mushroom picking today? – his grandson sat at the table, looking at him.
– No, grandson, I picked a lot yesterday. We’ll make pies and fry some as well.
Grandpa Trofim stroked his grandson’s head, and the boy smiled. They were in complete harmony. The boy, 6 years old, was an obedient child, fair-haired and curious like all children. Over time, he started asking to spend summers with his grandpa instead of going to pioneer camps. Being with grandpa was great; he knew all kinds of stories, and they could go mushroom or berry picking, the nature here was beautiful, and there was fishing, too. They’d set up boat rides on the local river. It was a paradise. The grandson, Seryozha, got along with the neighboring kids, though not without fights, of course. But to him, as he called his grandpa, his “first friend” was still the most important. His son had moved to the city and invited him to come along, as the old house was becoming unfit. But after his wife passed, whom he had lived with for more than half a century, grandpa decided not to change anything.