Having sat down on a sofa, I groped some newspaper nearby. On a turn recent date, the latest issue is designated. I considered familiar photo below. I got a pendant from a pocket, and compared the photo of the girl to the photo in the newspaper. Similarity is amazing – same person. From below, under the photo small article, in the paragraph from ten offers. In it said that from suburban orphanage children run every week. The last run away Elizabeth Sokolova, whose photo is observed by all, the residents holding this newspaper in hand. One offer is devoted to information on the strengthened trial of police in this puzzle as losses of children from a shelter. The guess is considered that there was mentally unbalanced maniac kidnapper. It is supposed that it is a certain Sergey Yuryevich Sokolov who tried to steal repeatedly his daughter from orphanage. Witnesses of its intentions to entice Lisa from a playground assure that the type as obsessed, the psychopath looked.

I think, they should consider also fault of workers of a shelter. It is possible to allow that tutors of orphanage unworthy treated with orphans, and it is possible, resorted to violence. All got used to blame maniacs while in article it is told about escapes, but not about kidnappings. But it isn’t so important. In the photo I recognized the girl, and she is similar to the daughter of that as now it is known, Sergey Sokolov whom I finished off recently.

Hands fell, the newspaper fell to a floor, the eye was fixed forward, and thoughts somewhere in zero gravity. I want to find this girl. I don’t care if the police perhaps already looks for her, I will try to make it the first! Ask, why it to me?! After all in the world fully same to nobody necessary and it is possible to become interested in them. Unless the difference between children is great, all of them are equally small. But something pulls me to this child, pulls, as to the native.

What I will tell about the police, hardly they will begin to tire themselves with searches of the strangers not necessary for them children. Whether already it is really so important for them?! But they also don’t penetrate that it is about the child. Nobody knows what’s with the girl and where is she. This news has to be learned, but not pass by. No one will become interested, all are excited by the problems. Having considered the photo I understood whom killed. It appears my victim which now feeds small fishes and other inhabitants of a reservoir, called Sergey Sokolov.

Here I decided to start immediately clarification of details about life of my victim, after all it can bring me to Lisa. Ask, why to me it? I don’t know, but something in me speaks to do so. My idea is higher than all rules, but after it’s said that rules are exist in order to violate them. Isn’t it?! Especially I want to try very much to find the girl.

Having learned enough from this newspaper, I curtailed it, put aside, and thought. A minute later outside rustles and illegible speeches were heard. Right there the door opened. Christina entered and having noticed me told

– Hi brother.

– Hi, – tearing off my mind from gloomy thoughts, I answered. It didn’t interest me anymore where my sister was. The main thing is she returned live and healthy, and the rest is unimportant.

– Are you ok? – having noticed my severe thoughtful face, Christina took an interest.

– No, everything is all right. How was hunting? – thoughtlessly I asked, without having thought why.

– What? Which hunting?! What do you take me for? We aren’t able to afford to play about blood every day. You and know about it yourself. – With these words the sister passed and sat down on a chair.

– You are manumission, do what you want.

– I don’t deny, but I am not so mad, – Christina crossed the legs and crossed hands before a breast.

– Sorry, I didn’t want to call you by the spoiled bitch, – I monotonously and smoothly said. Words took off imperceptibly as if thoughts sounded aloud. I didn’t wish to tell it by no means. It turned out because the head was occupied by another, and conversation with Christina only distracted me.

– How you called me? – the sister was indignant. Her face changed, and on it there was a grimace of the offense mixed with some soft rage.

– I’m sorry, I didn’t want to offend you, – having regained consciousness and having left a trance, I justified.

– I didn’t expect such from you, – with these words Christina got up from a chair and went to the room.

– I didn’t want., – with expression I threw after the sister. It is sure, she heard, but it won’t change anything.

My words were of course not from pleasant, but for some reason I didn’t regret about them. Probably it is good that I told it. This is the result of that boiled for many years. All the time I dreamed to speak and it wasn’t represented a case. Constantly I was at the sister’s lead. Where she wouldn’t go, everywhere dragged me with herself. Parents sang under her pipe: if she wants that I was near her, mother and the father will force me to carry out desire of the younger little sister. But after all it is youngest for some two years, that damn two years. So was when we were part of human race. I remember, it was lived before that when it was possible appear in front of my friends without Christina, they were pinning me up: “Left the sister at home?” It angered.

I remained alone in the room on the first floor. Christina escaped to the room, offended. And I needed only to think, how to occupy “the majesty”. I remembered about a pendant with photos, and the hand itself stretched in a pocket. But I didn’t find it. Once again I searched the clothes, and it is again empty. What the hell?

I came off and rushed to a corridor on the second floor. I saw each centimeter of a floor, but also didn’t find anything. I entered the bedroom. I checked the straightened bed with the crumpled blanket, I investigated a floor, and even a table which, if I’m not mistaken, didn’t approach long ago. All search results was defeated.

Tousled, excited from loss of a pendent, I returned to a drawing room and landed on a former place where sat recently. Having clutched the head and having leaned on a back, I wondered in thoughts: Where it could get to? But my brain didn’t issue the answer. As if I was under alcoholic intoxication.

Having calmed down, at last, I paid attention to the clothes. In them I hunted. Ther were a black sweatshirt with a green t-shirt under it, dark blue jeans and black gym shoes with white laces. I looked of course as the street mugger, or still any street punks. I remembered that wiped blood with the hoody, and it is better to remove it. It is good that there is a water supply system and electricity, and the clothes can be washed easily in the washing machine. All other getup quite suited me: there was the same, except the hoody. I looked at a watch, they showed me exactly eight. Passed only two hours since I woke up. In the head right there the idea woke up. Without waiting a second, I began to embody it.

I went upward. I glanced in the cupboard. I need to replace the hoody. The solid leather windbreaker of black color caught sight (I absolutely forgot about it). I removed it from a hanger and threw through one shoulder. Having closed a cupboard I hurried having taken with myself sunglasses from a table down. Under way putting on a windbreaker with glasses, I left the house.

The car already waited for me at a porch. Or I didn’t tire out our Lexus in garage when arrived, or Christina took it. All the same, it’s convenient for me.

In ten minutes I drove up to bar where killed the other day as it is already known, Sergey Sokolov. This type had a little daughter. I don’t know the name of the girl, but I hope to find it out soon.

I parked the car at a roadside, near two high buildings. On the first floor of one of them the institution necessary to me just settles down.