Read Dontsov's astral body of a bachelor in full. Daria Dontsova astral body of a bachelor

With a sweet paradise and in a hut! Nicoletta, mother of Ivan Podushkin, decided to check the truth of this proverb. She left her oligarch husband for a new acquaintance, Vanya, a famous fashion designer and host of the Crazy Fred rating TV show. Moreover, Nicoletta's son's apartment is quite suitable for a hut. True, all this happened later ... And at first, Ivan Podushkin took up the investigation of the mysterious death of Father Dionysius, the rector of the temple in the small town of Boysk ... A lot of strange things happened there thirty years ago, and no less tragic events happen today. How many secrets were discovered in a small town, as soon as Ivan Podushkin found in the things of the late father a photograph with a mysterious inscription: “Tom, Dwarf, Bom, Elephant and Horse. We will win!"

Read online The Astral Body of a Bachelor

On our favorite site you can read books for free or download them in the most common formats: fb2, rtf, epub. If you have an electronic reader, this is the best way for you to read books without registration.

excerpt

“If you come on a first date with a brick in your hand, then the girl will immediately understand: this guy has serious intentions - and she will marry you ...”

Usually when I'm in the car, I listen classical music, but now, turning on the radio, he obviously pressed his finger in the wrong place, got on some other wave, heard this strange phrase uttered by a hoarse female voice and was amazed. My rich imagination immediately unfolded the following picture: I’m not Ivan Pavlovich Podushkin at all, but some fragile lady who saw a man with a heavy brick approaching her, dressed to the nines ... What would I do in this case in place of that beauty? The answer is unequivocal: I would immediately take off my high-heeled shoes and give a tear barefoot. The idea of ​​getting married would never have crossed my mind. But I have been convinced more than once that the representative of the stronger sex is not given to understand the train of thought of the beautiful half of humanity.

- What's with the brick? came a deep bass from the radio.

I wonder what the host will say?

“Oh, those men…” the mezzo-soprano chirped. Do you remember the proverb? What should a real macho do?

“I don’t know,” her interlocutor admitted.

“Build a house, plant a tree, give birth to a son,” the balabolka listed. - Therefore, if you show up to a date with a brick, any woman will immediately realize that you are ready to build a mansion. So, boys, keep this in mind if you want to get the hand of your beloved. I assure you, take a stone with you - and none of us will stand.

Demyanka, who was lying next to him in the passenger seat, whimpered softly. I looked at the dog, shook my head and could not resist commenting to my four-legged companion:

- Wow ... The presenter, perhaps, should have said: “Take a brick in one hand, a sapling in the other, and hang a sign around your neck:“ I bought diapers. I am also embarrassed by the words that a man should "give birth to a son." In my amateurish opinion, the use of the verb "give birth" in this context is incorrect. Even with a great desire, neither I nor any other man will be able to give birth to a child. "Raising a son" - that's possible. And if we talk about stones in relation to the situation, then the ladies would like a diamond the size of a brick more. I hope I don't seem like a bore to you?

Demyanka, of course, did not answer my question, but suddenly jumped up, put her front paws on the "torpedo" and howled. I, who had turned away from the windshield during my speech, looked ahead again and quickly pressed the brake pedal. The car stopped abruptly, I was thrown forward, the dog fell off the seat. I straightened up and took a breath. It’s good that my foreign car has an emergency braking function, thanks to it I managed not to run into a motorcycle that was lying right in the middle of the road. I wonder where its owner is?

I got out and shouted:

- Young man! Mister Biker! Are you okay?

“No,” came the sound from the roadside ditch.

I got nervous, followed the sound, and saw a figure in a hazmat suit of a motorcyclist in a ravine… bright pink.

- Girl, are you sick? I got scared.

The kneeling man turned around. He had a thick black beard and mustache, I gasped.

“Look like that,” the man said.

- Sorry what? I didn't understand.

- Shuka! Shvolosh! the biker yelled. - Shelush!

I frantically searched my pockets for my cell phone. Everything is clear: the poor fellow had a stroke while driving, the unfortunate man fell off his motorcycle, rolled into a ravine, his speech was impaired.

Darya Dontsova

Astral body of a bachelor

© Dontsova D. A., 2017

© Design. LLC "Publishing House" E ", 2017

“If you come on a first date with a brick in your hand, then the girl will immediately understand: this guy has serious intentions - and she will marry you ...”

Usually, while in the car, I listen to classical music, but now, turning on the radio, I clearly pressed my finger in the wrong place, got on some other wave, heard this strange phrase uttered by a hoarse female voice, and was amazed. My rich imagination immediately unfolded the following picture: I’m not Ivan Pavlovich Podushkin at all, but some fragile lady who saw a man with a heavy brick approaching her, dressed to the nines ... What would I do in this case in the place of that beauties? The answer is unequivocal: I would immediately take off my high-heeled shoes and give a tear barefoot. The idea of ​​getting married would never have crossed my mind. But I have been convinced more than once that the representative of the stronger sex is not given to understand the train of thought of the beautiful half of humanity.

- What's with the brick? came a deep bass from the radio.

I wonder what the host will say?

“Oh, those men…” the mezzo-soprano chirped. Do you remember the proverb? What should a real macho do?

“I don’t know,” her interlocutor admitted.

“Build a house, plant a tree, give birth to a son,” the balabolka listed. - Therefore, if you show up to a date with a brick, any woman will immediately realize that you are ready to build a mansion. So, boys, keep this in mind if you want to get the hand of your beloved. I assure you, take a stone with you - and none of us will stand.

Demyanka, who was lying next to him in the passenger seat, whimpered softly. I looked at the dog, shook my head and could not resist commenting to my four-legged companion:

- Wow ... The presenter, perhaps, should have said: “Take a brick in one hand, a sapling in the other, and hang a sign around your neck:“ I bought diapers. I am also embarrassed by the words that a man should "give birth to a son." In my amateurish opinion, the use of the verb "give birth" in this context is incorrect. Even with a great desire, neither I nor any other man will be able to give birth to a child. "Raising a son" - that's possible. And if we talk about stones in relation to the situation, then the ladies would like a diamond the size of a brick more. I hope I don't seem like a bore to you?

Demyanka, of course, did not answer my question, but suddenly jumped up, put her front paws on the "torpedo" and howled. I, who had turned away from the windshield during my speech, looked ahead again and quickly pressed the brake pedal. The car stopped abruptly, I was thrown forward, the dog fell off the seat. I straightened up and took a breath. It’s good that my foreign car has an emergency braking function, thanks to it I managed not to run into a motorcycle that was lying right in the middle of the road. I wonder where its owner is?

I got out and shouted:

- Young man! Mister Biker! Are you okay?

“No,” came the sound from the roadside ditch.

I got nervous, followed the sound and saw in the ravine a figure in a protective suit of a motorcyclist… bright pink.

- Girl, are you sick? I got scared.

The kneeling man turned around. He had a thick black beard and mustache, I gasped.

“Look like that,” the man said.

- Sorry what? I didn't understand.

- Shuka! Shvolosh! the biker yelled. - Shelush!

I frantically searched my pockets for my cell phone. Everything is clear: the poor fellow had a stroke while driving, the unfortunate man fell off his motorcycle, rolled into a ravine, his speech was impaired.

- Hey, where are you calling? – unexpectedly quite distinctly said the victim.

“The ambulance,” I explained. Don't worry, they will help you.

- I'm zhodorov! the biker snapped. - I just lost the shelyusht and I'm looking for it. Do a favor, help! The lenses fell out too, I don’t see a damn thing.

– What have you lost? I didn't realize. And heard in response:

- Linzhy and peeling. Exclusive.

I hid my cell phone. So... The guy isn't sick, he just talks weird. Lost lenses and something else. Says - shelyusht! What it is?

“I saw that the shuda had flown away,” the stranger mumbled. - Shert! Chert! Its do what yo! Shashi is not. No Shashi! They don't make him run.

And then Demyanka ran up to the ravine with a loud bark.

- Oh, shobaka! the biker exclaimed.

"She doesn't bite," I warned. – Demyanka is a kind dog, she just loves to bark.

“Sham is like that, I like to yell,” the biker laughed.

I saw his open mouth and realized:

- Jaw! You have lost false teeth!

“Shushed,” the motorcyclist continued to have fun.

- Did you sneeze? I clarified.

“Yeah,” the biker nodded. - From the lice soul sighed, and the lings flew off into the ravine like a husk. I can't find.

I began to stir up the fallen leaves with my hands. By the way, I’ll explain: it’s January outside, but the snow hasn’t fallen yet, the weather is more like November.

“Shut up,” the biker said, rummaging through the dry leaves.

How long we tried to find false teeth, I can’t say, it seemed to me like an eternity. I ended up chilling to the bone. A person who rides in a car does not wear warm boots with thick soles and a sheepskin coat, so I was wearing a thin leather jacket and suede shoes, it is not surprising that my toes turned into popsicles.

- Oh, you shukin shyn! the biker howled suddenly. - Well done Stervets! Give me a fucking shobaku!

I turned around and saw Demyanka - she was frantically waving her tail, holding a denture in her mouth.

- Hooray! yelled the biker, snatching the dog's teeth and quickly stuffing them into his mouth.

- The prosthesis is dirty! - I could not stand it. - He needs to be washed!

- Where do you see the crane here? laughed the motorcyclist.

“I have a bottle of water in my car,” I said.

"It's getting late," the man replied. - Dirt kills microbes. You have a superdog, rescued me. Estimate, I have such a jaw structure that making a prosthesis is a terrible hemorrhoid. And I need a diamond one.

- Diamond? I asked in surprise.

The biker grinned. I saw that two of his fangs were adorned with sparkling stones, and I coughed.

“The most fashionable feature of the season,” the biker whinnied. - I made it a brand name, I tried for Ninka's clinic. And she is a bitch. She received free advertising from me, and even a basket of ideas, so what? Drove to Stepan. I'm shocked! Do you have a business card? Come here.

I handed the stranger a card, he said:

- Well, I went! - stuffed it into his pocket.

Before I could say a word, the biker saddled up his jalopy, hoisted a pink helmet adorned with black feathers on his head, started the engine, and disappeared around the bend.

Demyanka burst into barking.

“I agree with you,” I nodded, “he forgot to say thank you to us.” Okay, let's drive home, I hope no more accidents happen.

Astral body of a bachelor

Gentleman detective Ivan Podushkin - 22

Chapter 1

“If you come on a first date with a brick in your hand, then the girl will immediately understand: this guy has serious intentions - and she will marry you ...”

Usually, while in the car, I listen to classical music, but now, turning on the radio, I clearly pressed my finger in the wrong place, got on some other wave, heard this strange phrase uttered by a hoarse female voice, and was amazed. My rich imagination immediately unfolded the following picture: I’m not Ivan Pavlovich Podushkin at all, but some fragile lady who saw a man with a heavy brick approaching her, dressed to the nines ... What would I do in this case in the place of that beauties? The answer is unequivocal: I would immediately take off my high-heeled shoes and give a tear barefoot. The idea of ​​getting married would never have crossed my mind. But I have been convinced more than once that the representative of the stronger sex is not given to understand the train of thought of the beautiful half of humanity.

- What's with the brick? came a deep bass from the radio.

I wonder what the host will say?

“Oh, those men…” the mezzo-soprano chirped. Do you remember the proverb? What should a real macho do?

“I don’t know,” her interlocutor admitted.

“Build a house, plant a tree, give birth to a son,” the balabolka listed. - Therefore, if you show up to a date with a brick, any woman will immediately realize that you are ready to build a mansion. So, boys, keep this in mind if you want to get the hand of your beloved. I assure you, take a stone with you - and none of us will stand.

Demyanka, who was lying next to him in the passenger seat, whimpered softly. I looked at the dog, shook my head and could not resist commenting to my four-legged companion:

- Wow ... The presenter, perhaps, should have said: “Take a brick in one hand, a sapling in the other, and hang a sign around your neck:“ I bought diapers. I am also embarrassed by the words that a man should "give birth to a son." In my amateurish opinion, the use of the verb "give birth" in this context is incorrect. Even with a great desire, neither I nor any other man will be able to give birth to a child. "Raising a son" - that's possible. And if we talk about stones in relation to the situation, then the ladies would like a diamond the size of a brick more. I hope I don't seem like a bore to you...

Demyanka, of course, did not answer my question, but suddenly jumped up, put her front paws on the "torpedo" and howled. I, who had turned away from the windshield during my speech, looked ahead again and quickly pressed the brake pedal. The car stopped abruptly, I was thrown forward, the dog fell off the seat. I straightened up and took a breath. It’s good that my foreign car has an emergency braking function, thanks to it I managed not to run into a motorcycle that was lying right in the middle of the road. I wonder where its owner is?

I got out and shouted:

- Young man! Mister Biker! Are you okay?

“No,” came the sound from the roadside ditch.

I got nervous, followed the sound, and saw a figure in a hazmat suit of a motorcyclist in a ravine… bright pink.

- Girl, are you sick? I got scared.

The kneeling man turned around. He had a thick black beard and mustache, I gasped.

“Look like that,” the man said.

- Sorry what? I didn't understand.

With a sweet paradise and in a hut! Nicoletta, mother of Ivan Podushkin, decided to check the truth of this proverb. She left her oligarch husband for a new acquaintance, Vanya, a famous fashion designer and host of the Crazy Fred rating TV show. Moreover, Nicoletta's son's apartment is quite suitable for a hut. True, all this happened later ... And at first, Ivan Podushkin took up the investigation of the mysterious death of Father Dionysius, the rector of the temple in the small town of Boysk ... A lot of strange things happened there thirty years ago, and no less tragic events happen today. How many secrets were discovered in a small town, as soon as Ivan Podushkin found in the things of the late father a photograph with a mysterious inscription: “Tom, Dwarf, Bom, Elephant and Horse. We will win!"

The work was published in 2017 by the Eksmo publishing house. The book is part of the Gentleman Investigation Ivan Podushkin series. On our website you can download the book "The Astral Body of a Bachelor" in fb2, rtf, epub, pdf, txt format or read online. The rating of the book is 3.2 out of 5. Here, before reading, you can also refer to the reviews of readers who are already familiar with the book and find out their opinion. In the online store of our partner you can buy and read the book in paper form.

Darya Dontsova

Astral body of a bachelor

“If you come on a first date with a brick in your hand, then the girl will immediately understand: this guy has serious intentions - and she will marry you ...”

Usually, while in the car, I listen to classical music, but now, turning on the radio, I clearly pressed my finger in the wrong place, got on some other wave, heard this strange phrase uttered by a hoarse female voice, and was amazed. My rich imagination immediately unfolded the following picture: I’m not Ivan Pavlovich Podushkin at all, but some fragile lady who saw a man with a heavy brick approaching her, dressed to the nines ... What would I do in this case in the place of that beauties? The answer is unequivocal: I would immediately take off my high-heeled shoes and give a tear barefoot. The idea of ​​getting married would never have crossed my mind. But I have been convinced more than once that the representative of the stronger sex is not given to understand the train of thought of the beautiful half of humanity.

- What's with the brick? came a deep bass from the radio.

I wonder what the host will say?

“Oh, those men…” the mezzo-soprano chirped. Do you remember the proverb? What should a real macho do?

“I don’t know,” her interlocutor admitted.

“Build a house, plant a tree, give birth to a son,” the balabolka listed. - Therefore, if you show up to a date with a brick, any woman will immediately realize that you are ready to build a mansion. So, boys, keep this in mind if you want to get the hand of your beloved. I assure you, take a stone with you - and none of us will stand.

Demyanka, who was lying next to him in the passenger seat, whimpered softly. I looked at the dog, shook my head and could not resist commenting to my four-legged companion:

- Wow ... The presenter, perhaps, should have said: “Take a brick in one hand, a sapling in the other, and hang a sign around your neck:“ I bought diapers. I am also embarrassed by the words that a man should "give birth to a son." In my amateurish opinion, the use of the verb "give birth" in this context is incorrect. Even with a great desire, neither I nor any other man will be able to give birth to a child. "Raising a son" - that's possible. And if we talk about stones in relation to the situation, then the ladies would like a diamond the size of a brick more. I hope I don't seem like a bore to you?

Demyanka, of course, did not answer my question, but suddenly jumped up, put her front paws on the "torpedo" and howled. I, who had turned away from the windshield during my speech, looked ahead again and quickly pressed the brake pedal. The car stopped abruptly, I was thrown forward, the dog fell off the seat. I straightened up and took a breath. It’s good that my foreign car has an emergency braking function, thanks to it I managed not to run into a motorcycle that was lying right in the middle of the road. I wonder where its owner is?

I got out and shouted:

- Young man! Mister Biker! Are you okay?

“No,” came the sound from the roadside ditch.

I got nervous, followed the sound and saw in the ravine a figure in a protective suit of a motorcyclist… bright pink.

- Girl, are you sick? I got scared.

The kneeling man turned around. He had a thick black beard and mustache, I gasped.

“Look like that,” the man said.

- Sorry what? I didn't understand.

- Shuka! Shvolosh! the biker yelled. - Shelush!

I frantically searched my pockets for my cell phone. Everything is clear: the poor fellow had a stroke while driving, the unfortunate man fell off his motorcycle, rolled into a ravine, his speech was impaired.

- Hey, where are you calling? – unexpectedly quite distinctly said the victim.

“The ambulance,” I explained. Don't worry, they will help you.

- I'm zhodorov! the biker snapped. - I just lost the shelyusht and I'm looking for it. Do a favor, help! The lenses fell out too, I don’t see a damn thing.

– What have you lost? I didn't realize. And heard in response:

- Linzhy and peeling. Exclusive.

I hid my cell phone. So... The guy isn't sick, he just talks weird. Lost lenses and something else. Says - shelyusht! What it is?

“I saw that the shuda had flown away,” the stranger mumbled. - Shert! Chert! Its do what yo! Shashi is not. No Shashi! They don't make him run.

And then Demyanka ran up to the ravine with a loud bark.

- Oh, shobaka! the biker exclaimed.

"She doesn't bite," I warned. – Demyanka is a kind dog, she just loves to bark.

“Sham is like that, I like to yell,” the biker laughed.

I saw his open mouth and realized:

- Jaw! You have lost false teeth!

“Shushed,” the motorcyclist continued to have fun.

- Did you sneeze? I clarified.

“Yeah,” the biker nodded. - From the lice soul sighed, and the lings flew off into the ravine like a husk. I can't find.

I began to stir up the fallen leaves with my hands. By the way, I’ll explain: it’s January outside, but the snow hasn’t fallen yet, the weather is more like November.

“Shut up,” the biker said, rummaging through the dry leaves.

How long we tried to find false teeth, I can’t say, it seemed to me like an eternity. I ended up chilling to the bone. A person who rides in a car does not wear warm boots with thick soles and a sheepskin coat, so I was wearing a thin leather jacket and suede shoes, it is not surprising that my toes turned into popsicles.

- Oh, you shukin shyn! the biker howled suddenly. - Well done Stervets! Give me a fucking shobaku!

I turned around and saw Demyanka - she was frantically waving her tail, holding a denture in her mouth.

- Hooray! yelled the biker, snatching the dog's teeth and quickly stuffing them into his mouth.

- The prosthesis is dirty! - I could not stand it. - He needs to be washed!

- Where do you see the crane here? laughed the motorcyclist.

“I have a bottle of water in my car,” I said.

"It's getting late," the man replied. - Dirt kills microbes. You have a superdog, rescued me. Estimate, I have such a jaw structure that making a prosthesis is a terrible hemorrhoid. And I need a diamond one.

- Diamond? I asked in surprise.

The biker grinned. I saw that two of his fangs were adorned with sparkling stones, and I coughed.

I handed the stranger a card, he said:

- Well, I went! - stuffed it into his pocket.

Before I could say a word, the biker saddled up his jalopy, hoisted a pink helmet adorned with black feathers on his head, started the engine, and disappeared around the bend.

Demyanka burst into barking.

“I agree with you,” I nodded, “he forgot to say thank you to us.” Okay, let's drive home, I hope no more accidents happen.

My cell phone rang in my pocket, I took out the receiver and heard a pleasant soprano voice.

- Good afternoon. Kindly call Ivan Pavlovich to the telephone.

“I hear you,” I replied.

- Are you Mr. Podushkin? Owner of a private detective agency? – said the lady.

“That's right,” I confirmed.

“Your phone was given to me by one person,” the woman continued, “he said that you would help. I have a problem, but I don't want to discuss it over the phone. Do you, Ivan Pavlovich, free time?

At this stage, I had no clients, but I did not admit it, I answered:

- There is a window today. Will fourteen o'clock suit you?

- Wonderful! - the lady was delighted. And she explained the reason for her joy: - I can go home today.

- You are not a Muscovite? I got worried. – Sorry, I don’t travel to other cities. Excuse me, what's your name?

- Oh, I forgot to introduce myself ... - the interlocutor was embarrassed. – My name is Ekaterina Sidorova. I live in the region, it is fifty-five kilometers from the capital. City of Boysk. Have you heard of this?

“I didn’t,” I admitted as I pulled onto the freeway.

“No wonder,” Ekaterina sighed, “we don’t have any special sights, just an ordinary settlement. Is it too far for you?

“No,” I replied.

"So you're willing to help me?" The woman rejoiced again.

"Let's meet first and you tell me what happened," I prudently asked. - Come at two o'clock.

As soon as I entered the apartment, Boris appeared in the hall and anxiously asked:

What about our girl?

“The great veterinarian we went to found nothing,” I said.

Demyanka sat up, but immediately squealed and jumped up on her paws.

But she can't sit! Boris exclaimed. Did the doctor not notice?

- I drew the attention of the Aesculapius to this fact, - I sighed.

- And what is he? Boris asked.

I took off my shoes and put on warm slippers.

- We did an ultrasound, passed all the tests and ...

- AND? Boris repeated.

I threw up my hands.

- Nothing. Demianka's body works like a real Swiss watch and the dog is in perfect condition from head to toe.

"Dogs don't have heels," my secretary remarked.

“Demyanka is healthy from nose to tail,” I corrected myself with a chuckle. Then he picked up the ball lying at the hanger and threw it into the corridor.

Demyanka rushed with all her paws for the toy, and I looked at Boris and spread my arms:

“A sick animal won’t run like that.

"Yes," agreed the assistant. - The dog cannot sit, it is uncomfortable.

“The doctor suggested that Demyanka had stress after giving birth,” I explained. - The veterinarian gave the phone number of a specialist who copes with similar problems, here is his business card.

“I’ll call you right now,” Boris began to fuss. And then the doorbell rang.

I looked at the intercom screen, saw a very old lady in a dark dress with countless pearls and was surprised. Who is it? Why is there no outerwear on a stranger? It's cold outside.

- Who do you want? Boris asked.

“You,” answered a voice slightly distorted by the intercom.

The secretary opened the door.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” the old woman nodded majestically as she floated into the hall, “I am Emma Emilyevna Rosalius.

“Very nice,” Boris and I said in unison.

“I live in the apartment below you,” the lady continued.

- Yes? my assistant was surprised. - It seems that the apartments belong to Nikolai Sergeevich Onufin, and he constantly lives abroad ...

“This is my son,” Emma Emilyevna interrupted him. “Since yesterday, I have been your neighbor and I earnestly ask you not to make noise. I am a professor, I work at home, I write a monograph.

“Ivan Pavlovich doesn’t like mess either,” Boris put in his remark.

- Put socks on the child! demanded Emma Emilyevna.

- For which child? I didn't realize.

“On yours,” snapped the learned lady.

“Ivan Pavlovich is a bachelor,” explained my secretary, “he has no children.

“The absence of a wife does not mean the absence of children,” the guest remarked reasonably.

Suddenly, a roar, a ringing, a clatter were heard from the corridor. A disheveled Demyanka flew into the hall, dragging a toy in her teeth.

- Rat! squealed the grandmother. O great gods of Olympus!

“She's plush,” I explained, and tried to take the toy mouse away from the dog.

Demyanka deftly dodged and ran away.

“There are no children in the apartment,” Boris repeated.

- On whom? Boris was taken aback.

“On your dog,” the neighbor clarified.

“We have a girl,” I corrected.

“The gender of the source of the noise does not interest me,” the lady chuckled, “just remove the hindrance to my creativity.”

“I doubt that slippers are made for dogs,” drawled Boris.

“There is a Quiet House store,” the elderly lady said, “you can get what you need there. I don't want to hear the clatter! I'm working! You have two hours. If after this time the discomfort that bothers me does not disappear, I will call Grigory Alekseevich.

Having spoken, Emma Emilyevna turned around and left, forgetting to say goodbye.

“I have no idea,” the secretary shrugged.

“Hmm, it turns out there is some great and terrible Grigory Alekseevich in the world ...” I laughed.

“Some people get weird with age,” my assistant sighed. - Well, how can Demyanka's running around annoy her? The house has excellent soundproofing. And now it's five to one, that is, a clear day, and not late evening or night. I guess we don't have to take orders from the old lady. Why go to the Tihiy Dom store? At this time, we have every right to even work as a puncher.

- It is five minutes to one? I came to my senses. - I have to go, a client will appear soon.

- Go, Ivan Pavlovich, and I will remove the fragments of the vase, which, it seems, Demyanka ate, - Boris mourned.

Why do you think the dog broke something? I was surprised.

“Before she burst into the hall, there was a roar and ringing from the corridor,” reminded Boris. “I believe it was the floor vase that was at the entrance to your office that died.

I rejoiced:

- A gray-blue pot-bellied tub, on which you can’t understand who with triangular heads are depicted?

Boris went into the corridor and said from there, slightly raising his voice:

- Alas, yes.

- Excellent! I shouted. – This item was purchased by Nicoletta at a charity reception that her sworn friend Koka was hosting to save the Australian zebras.

Boris returned to the hall and asked in surprise:

Do zebras live in Australia?

“No, of course not,” I laughed. But that didn't bother Coca. She rented a restaurant, called journalists, various celebrities, as well as artists and sculptors. Few well-known artists donated their works, celebrities bought them, donated money to the Australian Zebra Rescue Fund, newspapers and magazines wrote about the event. The stars came to the party to be featured in the press, the painters-sculptors pursued the same goal, Koka longed for the fame of a philanthropist, it is now fashionable. All the guests were satisfied, and no one knows what the zebras feel. Nicoletta acquired an extremely ugly vase. Mom didn’t want to put it in her mansion, but she didn’t raise her hand to throw away the “beauty”. And what did she do?

“I gave it to my son,” Boris chuckled.

- Exactly! I nodded. - Unfortunately, my birthday fell on the day after the event, and my kind mother solemnly handed me a vase with the words: “Vanya! This is unique, the work of the great Rodin, I ordered him especially for you.

Did the Frenchman sculpt vases? Boris was surprised. “I have always considered him a sculptor. And François Auguste Rodin died at the beginning of the twentieth century.

“You are right about everything,” I said. - But to explain such subtleties, like anything else, Nicoletta is not worth it. Naturally, I had to take a present and express gratitude. I placed the vase right in the hallway in the hope that it would soon break.

“I noticed a long time ago: the more terrible the thing, the longer it serves the owner,” Boris chuckled. - But in the end, the "beauty" completed her earthly journey.

“I am extremely glad of this circumstance,” I smiled, removing my jacket from the hanger. - All right, I have to go to the office.

“My father, Igor Semenovich Sidorov, was killed,” the potential client spoke up, sitting down in an armchair, “and the local detectives do not admit this. At first they even hinted that suicide had occurred. And this is categorically impossible, suicide is excluded. I have no complaints against the Chief of Police Boyska, he good man... Oh, I forgot to say: my dad was the rector of the local church, his middle name is Father Dionysius. So suicide is out of the question. And I don't believe in accidental death. But you see, the chief police officer of our district has a higher leadership, and here it is trying with all its might to present the death of the priest as an accident. Why? They don't want noise. Sorry, I'm probably confused. I'm very nervous...

I listened attentively to the visitor, whose age was difficult to determine. Sidorova's face was without wrinkles, but the clothes did not suit the young woman in any way - Ekaterina was wearing a long, almost to the toe, dark gray dress that looked like a hoodie, buttoned at the throat with buttons. Her hair is styled in a hairstyle that ballerinas and circus performers love, that is, gathered in a tight bun at the back of her head. No jewelry, no makeup. And the jacket she took off in the hallway is the simplest. And boots with flat thick soles.

“Suicide is out of the question,” repeated the client.

Why did the police think it was suicide? I asked.

“Now I’ll explain in detail,” Ekaterina promised.

“All attention,” I nodded and began to listen to her leisurely story.

... Thirty years ago, the town of Boysk near Moscow was a village in which several old women lived. They existed thanks to the church working in the village - one stood by the candle box, the other served as a cleaner, the third was spinning in the refectory. The grannies had pennies, but they fed at the temple and were content with their fate. Five kilometers from Boysk, there was another church where a very young priest served, so there were more parishioners there. AT Soviet times attending divine services was not welcome, but local believers did not care about the indignation of the communists, they constantly went to the service of a young priest in the village of Markovo. And the temple in Boysk was visited by a few. There, the old father Vladimir served as rector, for whom it was high time to retire. Father Vladimir lived in poverty, had no children. His wife, mother Irina, a wonderful housewife, got up at four in the morning and herself managed the cow, goat, chickens, garden and greenhouse.

Nobody knew why the church in Boisk, where fifteen people at most gathered for liturgy on Sunday, was not closed. But the temple worked. Father Vladimir's vestments were pretty worn out, out of economy, the priest did not light the electricity, he served by candlelight, of which there were few. In winter, it was cold in the church - the boiler house worked on coal, and it was expensive, so there was practically no heating. But thanks to mother Irina, the priest did not go hungry. Local old women and beggars could dine in the refectory, where there was always hot soup and bread.

One rainy autumn morning, the mother asked her husband to go to the temple in rubber boots. But Father Vladimir refused, said that it was impossible to conduct the service in an indecent manner, and, as always, put on his only black shoes with thin soles. A huge puddle formed in the church courtyard, the priest got his feet wet and stood for two hours on the stone floor in wet shoes in a barely heated room. Father Vladimir was then seventy years old, apparently, his body was weakened. The next day he came down with pneumonia, and a week later he died. A young priest from a church in the village of Markovo, where most of the local parishioners used to go, came to bury him. After the funeral, he told Matushka Irina that the authorities were trying their best to close the temple in Boisk and most likely they would succeed.

The next day, mother Irina unexpectedly left for Moscow, which immensely surprised her fellow villagers - in their memory she did not ride further than the village of Markovo. The widow was absent for a week, and when she returned, she delighted everyone with the news: a new priest was about to arrive in Boisk, a very young, recent graduate of the seminary. And soon Father Dionysius actually appeared. He arrived not alone, but with a baby girl Katya, a few months old. Local old women began to whisper. Where is the child's mother? Why did the father come only with his daughter? Why didn’t he immediately begin to serve, but sits in a hut? Why didn't Mother Irina vacate the parish house for a new rector?

Ten days later, the oldest resident of Boysk, Matryona Filippovna Reutova, knocked on the door to mother Irina's house and asked without much ceremony:

- Do not make noise! the widow spoke sternly. And she explained: - Father Dionysius fell ill, fell down with a temperature. And his daughter got sick. The flu is severe.

- Where did his wife go? - Matryona could not cope with her curiosity.

“She died in childbirth,” Mother Irina answered sadly, “Father Dionysius was left alone with the baby in his arms. He will recover and begin to serve. And I will help him with Katyusha.

Father Dionysius really stood up and set to work. Mother Irina began to take care of the successor of father Vladimir and the girl.

In the spring, during the service, drunk guys with machine guns burst into the church in Markov and shot the parishioners, killed the priest. As they left, they threw grenades at the altar. The dilapidated building of the church fell apart from the explosions. The criminals were quickly identified, the surviving parishioners unanimously spoke to the investigator:

- These are the brothers of Mitka Kosoy. He wanted to get married, but the priest refused him, explained: “Lent is coming, we have to wait.” The bandit got angry, yelled: “Go mumble what you need, otherwise it will be worse, I don’t give a damn about your post.” The abbot again about the fact that he cannot perform the ceremony. Oblique got furious and arranged something.

The church in Markov was not restored, and people began to go to Boysk. Father Dionysius turned out to be very enterprising; he had rich businessmen in Moscow who generously donated money to the temple. Then, not far from the village, a large foreign company built a factory for the production of chocolates.

Ten years later, the once wretched village became unrecognizable, Boysk turned into a pretty town. The church was repaired, the domes shone with new gilding, and there were many parishioners. Matushka Irina, as before, kept housekeeping for Father Dionysius, raised Katya and taught at Sunday school. And the father, in the world Igor Semenovich Sidorov, founded Cultural Center. Now it is visited by many children and adults, various circles work for them: singing, dancing, cooking. The priest helped children from dysfunctional families, during the holidays he always opened something like a camp for them. There was a help room at the temple, where a psychologist sat, with whom both parishioners and non-believers could discuss various problems. Thanks to Father Dionysius, the church became very popular, it was a place where people went in sorrow and joy. Unfortunately, mother Irina passed away, but she saw the flowering of Boysk and said to her pupil shortly before her death:

- I will see in the Kingdom God's father Vladimir and tell him whom the Lord sent to strengthen our temple, take care of your father.

Katenka is married to a parish warden and has three children. But the young woman was not just a housewife, she helped her father, was in charge of the Sunday school, and led circles.

And all went well until the day Father Dionysius was found dead at the foot of the bell tower. The expert without thinking twice announced: this is suicide. But none of the parishioners believed his words. A deeply religious priest could not commit suicide! The outraged people, who did not agree with the hasty conclusion of the forensic scientist, went to the police in a crowd and demanded an additional investigation. The pathologist was ordered to examine the body again, and he delivered a verdict: Father Dionysius had a stroke. At the moment of a brain stroke, the priest, who was on the bell tower, staggered and fell down. There was no suicide, there was an accident, the priest can be buried.

The people calmed down, wept at the funeral. But in Katya's soul, anxiety grew, and questions swarmed in her head. Why did dad climb the bell tower, and even late in the evening? What was he doing there? Is this connected with the arrival of a man who visited the priest shortly before his death?..

– Were you surprised that someone looked at Father Dionysius? Did he not like guests? I asked, interrupting the narrator.

“Guests…” Ekaterina drawled. The door to our house did not close. In those years when there was no mobile connection, resorted to, if it was required to call. For example, someone got sick and you need to call an ambulance. Batiushka had a telephone, and they gave it to Father Vladimir. And in general, if something was needed, people turned to Father Dionysius. They went to him for consolation, advice, support, blessing. In short, the path to the father's house did not overgrow, he did not refuse anyone. While mother Irina lived, she regulated the flow of the afflicted. The father was perspicacious, and if he advised someone, it was better to listen to him. Those who acted contrary, then bitterly repented. Dad knew the past, saw the future.

“He had psychic powers,” I said.

Catherine was baptized.

- Not! God forbid you consider Father Dionysius a sorcerer, a witcher. He simply looked at a person, and his whole life opened up before him. Once a parishioner approached him and asked him to marry her. Dad asked who the girl chose as her life partner, turned gloomy and advised her: "Wait a couple of years." - "Why?" she wondered. “Just wait,” my father repeated. - You explained to me that you met your betrothed on the Internet. You should not run down the aisle without knowing the man properly. Where are you in a hurry? Marriage is a responsible step. Chat with the groom longer. And do not arrange the marriage in the registry office yet, do not live with him before the wedding together. You don't have my blessing." And the girl really wanted to get married, and she, not listening to the priest, went to apply. But it was not possible to carry out the plan - on the way to the registry office, the bride fell, broke both legs, and ended up in the hospital.

“It happens,” I nodded. - Some people have a well-developed premonition, your daddy felt ...

“You didn’t listen to the end,” the client stopped me. - The groom heard from the doctor that the bride would have to be treated for a long time, she would probably remain lame, and he left her. A couple of years later, the girl married a doctor who treated her, and soon found out the shocking news: the former groom signed with another, and six months after the wedding he killed his wife in a fit of jealousy, the guy turned out to be mentally ill. It turns out that my father saved his parishioner from a great disaster. So, in fact, about the guests in the house of the pope. Mother Irina tried to hold back the flow of visitors, but she did not succeed well. After her death, I began to play the role of Cerberus. First of all, I hung a notice on the door: “Father Dionysius receives the suffering on Tuesday and Thursday, from one in the afternoon until five in the evening. We kindly ask you to sign up in advance and do not disturb the priest at other times. At first the people grumbled, people got used to pulling the priest at any moment. But then everyone calmed down, they began to come by appointment. My hut is opposite my father's. On the tenth of November, I left my father at nine in the evening, asking him to lock the door for me. She went back to her room and started washing the dishes. We have a window in the kitchen, I wiped the plates and no, no, yes, I looked out into the street. And there, right next to the gate, a large lantern was burning, I could clearly see my father's yard and the entrance to his house. And at some point I noticed that a young man had risen to the porch, his father let him in. I got angry, wanted to go and kick out the uninvited guest. I also thought, I remember that some people are extremely selfish and unceremonious, so he needs it, and that's it ... But I cried younger son- fell, broke his nose, and I rushed to the child. And when I looked out the window again, I saw that my father and that guy were already walking down the street towards the temple. I saw their backs. Father in his old coat and skullcap. And then the thought came to my mind: this is probably Pasha Vetrov running to dad. His father became very ill, he caught the flu, and, apparently, Philip Petrovich became very ill, so the son hurried to the priest. Oh, I was so ashamed that I got angry! So I went to read the Three Canons. And in the morning they found dad at the bell tower.