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Gruman
Valery Bulygin
© Valery Bulygin, 2020
ISBN 978-5-0051-3038-9
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
CHAPTER 1
The morning was very good. There was no wind. There was no heat. Throwing once again the fishing rod Gruman looked at the clock. It is nine and only three fish. That is in three hours. What is missing from this fish? The weather is good. The worm is fat. I do not understand these anglers. Well, the summer. You can sit, think, and relax in nature. Listen to birds singing. What is the pleasure of winter fishing? It is cold, the wind is blowing, and you are going to catch a little fish in half a day. I wonder what the anglers who spend hours watching the calm float think about. At least I have a hobby. I write stories. In addition, the anglers probably think I am doing something stupid. Where’s the line that you are doing important things or not?
For example, I worked in the police investigation department for 20 years. I thought I was doing something important and necessary. Solving crimes, caught murderers, thieves, maniacs. So what? At the trial, they paid off or someone bought them. In addition, someone had a powerful «roof.» The court transfers the offender from the category of the accused to the category of victim. I see he is already out there a month later. Well, they can really give you a suspended sentence. Why did I climb under the bullets, risk my life? At first. I thought I was doing a very important job. I purge society of bad people.
With these thoughts, Gruman walked down the street to his house.
– Hi angler, how is the catch? – Wajda, a neighbor in the country, asked.
– That is rifle. I will give it to the cats, they will be happy. You know I am not an angler. Sometimes it is just fun to sit with a fishing rod.
– I have an unusual offer for you – Wajda said. I would like to discuss it. If you are not busy, come in and talk. Gruman took the fishing rods into the house and went to the neighbor, taking with him a jar of good coffee.
Wajda worked as a security chief for a major television company. He was a peculiar man. Well, yes, he is used to being bossy. Did not tolerate disobedience. All this affected his character. Therefore, Gruman, though he was his neighbor, did not make close contact. He was more comfortable communicating with another neighbor, former psychologist Remezov. He lives with his wife Clara and a year as a retired. Worked in a serious hospital, but now he just works part-time. From old memory, people refer to him privately. He was a calm, sociable man. Gruman often came to him, just to chat. We discussed my book, and Remezov gave advice as a psychologist.
– Why are you writing your stories? – Remezov once asked. You are not a writer, a former detective. Now detectives write such venerable writers.
– Well, you know- Gruman said. I am working as a private investigator right now. Writing stories helps me keep my tone.
Gruman and Wajda settled down in the alcove and slowly drank fragrant coffee.