Аннотация: The horror of peat bogs. A detective story. Literary mystification.
The horror of peat bogs. A detective story. Literary mystification.
Colonel Nikitin sat at the table and had breakfast. I stood by the stove and was turning a cane in my hands, forgotten by our visitor yesterday, a good thick cane with a knob. On the cane was a silver ring about a millimeter wide. On the ring it was inscribed: "To Eugene Kanyrin, Ch. K. X. O., from his friends at the CH-K-L" and the date: "1884."
- "Well, Maxim Maximovich, what is your opinion about her?"
Nikitin sat with his back to me, and I thought that my manipulations remained invisible to him.
- 'How do you know what I'm doing? It's possible to think that you have eyes on the back of your head!"
- 'No! In front of me is a polished copper samovar,' - he answered. - 'No, in fact, Maxim Maksimovich, what can you say about the cane of our visitor? You and I missed his visit and do not know why he came. And since we are so unlucky, we will have to pay special attention to this random souvenir. Examine the stick and try to recreate the image of its owner with her help, and I will listen to you'.
- 'In my opinion,' - I began, trying as much as I could to follow my friend's method, - 'this Evgeny Kanyrin is a successful middle-aged physician, and also respected by all, as his friends give him such signs of attention.'
- 'Good!' - Nikitin said . - 'Excellent!'
- 'In addition, I am inclined to think that he is a village doctor, and therefore he has to make large distanses on foot'.
- 'And why?'
- 'Because his stick, in the past very not bad, is so downed that I cannot imagine it in the hands of a city doctor. The thick iron tip completely erased - apparently Evgeny Kanyrin traveled with her many miles'.
- 'A very sensible reasoning,' - Nikitin said.
- 'Again, the inscription: "From friends in CH-K-L." I believe that the letters "KL" mean a club, or rather a hunting club, to whose members he provided medical assistance. From them this small gift was presented him'.
- 'Maxim Maximovich, you have surpassed yourself!' - said Nikitin, leaning back in his chair and lighting a cigarette.
I was proud that I was able not only to master the method of Colonel Nikitin, but also to apply it in practice and earn the praise of my friend.
Nikitin took the stick from my hands and examined it with the naked eye for several minutes. Then, obviously interested in something, he put the cigarette aside, approached the window and again began to examine the stick, but through a magnifying glass.
- 'Still, a curious thing,' - he said, returning to his favorite place in the corner of the sofa. - 'Of course, there is some data here, they will serve as the basis for some conclusions.'
- 'Has anything slipped away from me?' - I asked. - 'I hope I haven't missed anything serious?'
- "Alas, my dear Maxim Maximovich, most of your conclusions are erroneous.
When I said that you serve as a good incentive for me, this, frankly, should be understood as follows: your mistakes sometimes help me get on the right track. But now you are not mistaken so much. This man, of course, does not practice in the city, and he has to do a great walks on foot."
- 'So I was right.'
- "In this respect, yes."
- 'But is that all?'
- "No, no, my dear Maxim Maximovich, not all, far from all. So, for example, I would say that a dangerous recidivist can most likely receive such a gift from some hospital, but not from a hunting club, and when the letters 'CH' are in front of the hospital, the name 'Chernskaya' suggests itself."
- 'It is possible that you are right.'
- "Everything leads to such an interpretation. And if we take my guess as a working hypothesis, then we will have additional data to recreate the identity of our unknown visitor."
- "Well. Suppose that the letters "CH-K-L" mean "Chernskaya hospital." What further conclusions can be drawn from here?"
- 'You are familiar with my method. Try to apply it.'
- "The conclusion is obvious: before leaving for the village, this person practiced in St. Petersburg."
- 'What if we will go a little further? Look at this from such an angle: why was he given a present? When did his friends consider it necessary to present him this stick? Obviously, at the time when Evgeny Kanyrin left the medical correctional institution, having decided to engage in private practice. They brought him a present, we know that. It is assumed that he replaced the administrative supervision in the medical correctional institution with rural practice. Will our conclusions be too bold if we say that the gift was made precisely in connection with his departure?'
- 'This is very likely.'
- 'If he worked there without being a full-time consultant, it means that he was a person who formally remained under observation after his release from the colony. And he left five years ago - see on the date on the stick. Thus, my dear Maxim Maksimovich, your respectable elderly family doctor has evaporated, and instead of him we have a very nice recidivist who received three convictions for robbery, assault, theft and hijacking, which violated the rules of administrative supervision, prone to get to know women by ads."
I burst out laughing, incredulously. Colonel Nikitin leaned back in the sofa and threw small, smoothly swirling rings of smoke into the ceiling.
- 'We will find some information about the age of this man and his career,' - I said.
I took a medical directory from my small bookshelf and found the name I needed. There were several Kanyrins there, but I immediately found our visitor ...:
- "Evgeny Kanyrin, since 1882 a member of the CWC. Latin America, Northern Territories. From 1882 to 1884 - curator of the Chernskaya hospital ..."
- 'Not a word about the hunting club, Maxim Maximovich,' - Nikitin said with a sly smile. - 'And here is Yevgeny Kanyrin himself! Do not leave, Maxim Maximovich, I ask you. You are colleagues with him, and your presence will help me ... Come in.'
- 'I have a passport in my pocket,' - said Yevgeny Kanyrin.
- 'I noticed this as soon as you walked in,' - Nikitin said.
- 'The passport is very ancient.'
- 'The beginning of the eighteenth century, if not a fake.'
- 'How do you know this, gracious sovereign?'
- 'Talking with me, you is showing me the edge of this passport two millimeters wide. The expert who is not able to set the date of the document with an accuracy of one or two decades - he is a bad specialist. Maybe you read my little work on this issue? I think, your passport of the 1730 year.'
- 'The exact date is the 1742 year.' - Evgeny Kanyrin took out a passport from the side pocket of his jacket.
Nikitin held out his hand, took his passport and opened it.
- 'Maxim Maksimovich, look at the spelling of the letter "d". This is one of those features that helped me set the date of the document.'
I looked over his shoulder at the pages of the passport. At the top of the page it was written: "peat bogs", and below were large, sweeping figures: "1742."
- 'But, as far as I understand, you came to consult me on a question more practical and closer to us in time.'
- 'Yes, it is vital! The issue does not tolerate delay, it has to be solved within 24 hours. The manuscript is quite short, and it has a direct bearing on the case. With your permission, I will read it to you.'
Leaning back in his chair, Nikitin closed his fingers. He closed his eyes showing a complete obedience to fate. Evgeny Kanyrin turned to the light and began to read to us the following curious tale of ancient times in a high, squeaky voice:
- "... So forget the terrible fruits of the past, but beware of sinning in the future, so that not to grant freedom to the dark passions that have caused so much evil to our entire family ...."
After reading this strange story, Eugene Kanyrin moved his glasses to his forehead and stared at Colonel Nikitin. Colonel Nikitin yawned and threw the cigarette butt into the stove.
- "So what?" - he said.
- "In your opinion, is it not interesting?"
- "Interesting for lovers of fairy tales.
You acquainted me with a case that is certainly not without some interest. And I am very grateful to you for this,' - Colonel Nikitin said. - "At one time I had to read about him in the newspapers ... introduce me to those facts that did not appear in a press." - He leaned back in his chair, closed his fingertips and took the form of a strict and impartial judge."
- 'I have never had to talk about this with anyone,' - began Yevgeny Kanyrin, clearly worried. - "I kept silent about many things during the investigation. Peat bogs are a rather deserted place, therefore more or less close neighbors try to meet each other more often. My friend brought very valuable scientific material from South Africa, and he and I spent many pleasant evenings discussing the comparative anatomy of the Bushmen and the Hottentots."
Nikitin leaned forward with his whole body, and dry, prickly sparks flashed in his eyes - a sure sign of awakened interest.
- "Ah, Eugene Kanyrin, Eugene Kanyrin! Why didn't you call, addressed me right away? What a sin on your conscience!"
- 'I could not turn to you, Mr. Nikitin: because then I would have to publicize all these facts, and I have already explained what kept me from such a step. In addition, in addition ...'
- 'Why are you hesitating?'
- "There is a certain area where the most penetrating and most experienced detective is powerless."
- 'Are you implying that we are dealing with supernatural power?'
- 'I don't say that.'
- "You do not 'say', but you 'think'? I advise you, gracious sovereign, to call a coachman and go to the station. Another question, Evgeny Kanyrin. You say the ghost was appearing in the swamps earlier?"
- "Yes."
- "Thank you. Good luck."
Nikitin sat down in his seat in the corner of the sofa and smiled by a calm, satisfied smile that always appeared on his face when he faced a worthy task.
- "And now, Maxim Maksimovich, you and I only have to organize the request by telegraph about the coachman number two thousand seven hundred and four, after which we will look into some picture gallery and spend the time left before breakfast there."
A rattling of a door bell announced that Nikitin's expectations even were exceeded, were surpassed. A tall man appeared at the door of the office - apparently a coachman.
- 'I was told in the office, that some people at this address asked about the number two thousand seven hundred and four ,' - he began. - "I for the seventh year I drive and never heard any complaints. Let me come in. Tell me what I 've done."
- 'You have done nothing wrong, my dear,' - Nikitin said. - 'On the contrary, I will pay you a half-imperial coin, just answer me directly to my question.'
- 'You don't know where you will find, where you will lose!' - the coachman grinned. - "My passenger told me that he was a detective, and ordered not to talk about it."
- 'Well, my dear, this is a serious matter. And if you begin to hide something from me, you may find yourself in a very unpleasant position. So he called himself a detective?"
- "Yes, sir."
- 'And when did he tell you about this?'
- "When he paid."
- 'And did he say anything else?'
- "He said his surname".
Nikitin cast a victorious look at me.
- "His surname? So what is his name?"
- 'His name is,' - the coachman said, - 'Colonel Nikitin.'
The driver's answer literally struck my friend. In my life I did not see such a stunned expression on his face. For two minutes he could not utter a word, then laughed out loudly.
- "Maxim Maximovich! Accurate hit! - he said. - A foil is in the hand of an adversary who is not inferior to me in speed or accuracy. This time he allowed me to do a circle around his finger. So his name is Colonel Nikitin, huh? Here is a cunning beast!"
...
Before us a steep hill rose up overgrown with heather, the first harbinger of the proximity of peat bogs.
The stroller climbed the hills, and in front of us were the vast expanses of peat bogs with dolmens from rock fragments and stone pillars that were visible on them in some places. The cold wind, that came from there, pierced us to the bones. This alone was enough to aggravate the dark that lurked in the bare desert, spreading before us, in a gusty wind and a darkening sky.
In front of us was a huge quagmire. After a coming to this quagmire, a person or an animal is enough to do the one careless step, and it's all over. Just yesterday I saw a young woman - trainee from the subway, who was wandering across it, and, of course, perished. Her head was visible over the bog for a long time. She kept craning her neck, trying to get out, but in the end the swamp sucked up the poor woman.
Look, the another unhappy young woman - trainee!
Something dark was rolling and tossing among the green sedges. Then a painfully elongated neck flashed over the thickets, and the swamps were resounded by a terrible scream. I felt a cold with horror, but my companion apparently had a more stronger nerves.
- "It's over!" - he said. - "Sucked up. The second in two days, only before my eyes. And how many have died! They often die. Yes, this quagmire is a terrible place."
A soft, drawn out and inexpressibly dreary low moan swept over the swamps. The air was filled with him, but where it came from was impossible to determine. Beginning with an dull murmur, this sound gradually turned into a dull roar and again fell into a melancholy, throbbing murmur.
- "A mysterious places are these swamps ..."
- 'A bog sometimes makes very strange sounds. Either this sludge settles, or the water rises to the surface, or something else, who knows?'
It was the end of November. On a rainy, foggy evening, Colonel Nikitin and I sat by the burning fireplace in an office on the Kronverkskaya street.
- "And now, my friend, we direct our thoughts to a more pleasant objects . A few weeks of such hard work give us the right to an evening of freedom. I have a box "Lady Macbeth of Mtsenskiy County". Have you heard Ruslanova? So, be kind to be ready within half an hour. We will stop at the Yar restaurant and will dine without haste there. "
[The author of the literary hoax thanks Arthur Conan Doyle for the detective story 'The Hound of the Baskervilles' (Translated by N. Volzhina) and Maxim Chertanov for the analysis of the novel 'The Hound of the Baskervilles' in the biographical book 'Conan Doyle'].
April 4, 2020 03:40
Translation from Russian into English: April 5, 2020 07:47.
Владимир Владимирович Залесский 'Ужас торфяных болот. Детективный рассказ. Литературная мистификация'.