Anna made a note in her notebook. Typical behavior for someone with a false identity.
"And then the elephants appeared," Elena Andreevna continued. "He noticed Sofi's collection and became so enthusiastic. He told her the legend about seven elephants bringing happiness. Sofi became excited about collecting all seven. And he… he encouraged it. Now I understand—it was part of his game."
"How did he interact with Sophia?"
"Perfectly. Too perfectly, you understand? He took interest in her studies, helped her with English. Once I found them talking about music—he was describing classical composers, and Sofi was listening, completely captivated. Back then, I thought: how fortunate that my daughter has such a wonderful stepfather…"
Elena Andreevna fell silent, clenching her fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
"When did the calls begin?"
"After I threw him out. At first, they were normal calls—he apologized, asked for forgiveness. Then he started calling at night. Silent calls. And then… then I found the first camera."
There was a knock at the door. A young officer handed Anna a folder.
"The forensic results."
Anna opened the folder, quickly scanning the lines. She froze.
"Elena Andreevna, have you ever heard the name Andrei Savelyev?"
"No, who is…"
"What about the surname Rogov? Did Viktor ever mention this name?"
"No, never. What's happening?"
Anna placed a photograph in front of her: three men standing in front of a gray Toyota Camry. In the center—a young Viktor Rogov.
"This picture is twenty years old. On the right is Andrei Savelyev. The same person whose car was used in Sophia's abduction."
"And the third man?" Elena Andreevna's voice trembled.
"We haven't identified the third one yet. But there's something else."
Rapid footsteps sounded in the corridor. Dorokhov burst into the room.
"Just got a call from the detention center. Viktor is demanding a lawyer. Says he's ready to testify."
"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.
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?"
