Eye aversion. Eye contact: how to learn to look people in the eye. General discussion of the main conditions of the eye and its inflammation Anatomy of the eye

How to take a thunderstorm away from home In your homes and gardens, it can be scary in a strong thunderstorm. To prevent lightning from striking your home, throw a piece of black bread out the window and say: Holy, Holy, Holy, pour springs on the face of the earth. Living Lord, eternal God, execute the devil, not us. Always

People often tend to do strange things. But everyone has their own hobby, everyone wants to learn something. There are also people who are very concerned about the question of how to open their eyes. If you think about it, in order to have such an ability, you need to be at least “cross-eyed”. But there is another answer to the question of how to learn to look in different directions with each eye.

There are special exercises for "divorcing" the eyes. For example, "Training for the eyes". There is even such a section in yoga (yoga for the eyes). Often, many do not understand that this is by no means entertainment for laughter. This is a serious and necessary gymnastics to strengthen the eye muscles. This technique came from India and has now captured everyone who practices yoga.

Eye dilution exercises

The first thing to do is to strengthen and train the muscles of the eyes. To do this, you need to sit straight. Open the manhole as wide and as large as possible, they need, one might say, “bulge”. So sit for one minute. Then you need to turn your eyes to the left side, but only the eyes, the head should be motionless. Now also turn your eyes to the right side. In this case, the eyes should be as open as possible. So look around a few times.

You also need to look up and then down. Top right corner and top left corner. Then on the forehead, at one central point. And the same for the nose. Now you need to "run" your eyes randomly. Move your eyes clockwise, and then - against.

Such exercises need to be done for several weeks. Having trained the muscles, you can spread your eyes in different directions. Look ahead. Now try to make a circular motion with your eyes, but not inward, but outward. Look straight ahead, strain your eyes. Then lift them up to your forehead. And then gently try to rotate them, describing a circle (outward), and return your gaze to its original position. You should not be zealous. It may not work the first time, but often you should not make such attempts. Otherwise, without preparation, problems may arise.

Now you can easily spread your eyes in different directions.

Usually our eyes “follow” our thoughts, and sometimes, just looking into our eyes, other people can understand what we are thinking about. Surely you will agree that reading the thoughts of another person in his eyes is a very useful skill? Thanks to this, everyone will be able to understand whether they are being deceived or determine whether your interlocutor is interested in what you are telling him about. This useful skill is perfect for poker players.

Eyes to eyes

Such contact with the interlocutor indicates that he is very interested in talking with you. Prolonged eye contact may indicate that the person is scared and/or doesn't trust you. Brief eye contact - the person is worried and/or not interested in talking to you. And the complete lack of eye contact indicates the complete indifference of your interlocutor to your conversation.

man looking up

Raised eyes are a sign of contempt, sarcasm or irritation directed at you. In most cases, such a "gesture" means a manifestation of condescension.

If a person looks in the upper right corner

He visually imagines the picture stored in memory. Ask someone to describe the appearance of a person, and your interlocutor will certainly raise his eyes up and look to the right.

If a person averts his eyes to the upper left corner

This indicates that he is clearly trying to imagine something. When we try to use our fantasy to visually “draw” some kind of picture, we raise our eyes up and look to the left.

If your interlocutor is looking to the right

This means that he is trying to remember something. Try to ask someone to remember the melody of the song, and the person will definitely glance to the right.

Looking to the left, people make sounds

When a person imagines a sound or composes a new melody, he looks to the left. Ask someone to imagine the sound of a car horn underwater and they will invariably look to the left.

If your interlocutor lowers his eyes and looks to the right

This person conducts the so-called "internal" dialogue with himself. Your interlocutor may be pondering something you said, or may be contemplating what to say next.

If a person lowers his eyes down and looks to the left

He thinks about his impression of something. Ask the interlocutor how he feels on his birthday, and before answering you, the person lowers his eyes and looks to the left.

Lowering your eyes

We show that we do not feel very comfortable or even embarrassed. Often, if a person is shy or does not want to talk, he lowers his eyes. In Asian culture, not looking a person in the eye, looking down when talking to an interlocutor is the norm.

These "rules" are usually followed by all of us. But the left-hander does the opposite: the right-hander looks to the right, the left-hander looks to the left, and vice versa.

How to determine that you are lying?

There is no absolutely correct algorithm by which you can determine whether your interlocutor is lying or not. The best option is to ask an elementary question, for example, “what color is your car?”. If a person raises his eyes and looks to the right (or to the left if he is left-handed), then he can be trusted. Thus, in the future you can understand whether they are deceiving you or not.

For example, when telling you about what happened in class, your friend looks to the right; talking about his holidays, he constantly raises his eyes up and glances to the right. Most likely, everything he said is true. But when he shares his impressions with you about a beautiful girl he met the other day, and his eyes are fixed on the upper left corner, you can conclude that he is clearly “embellishing”.

Current page: 4 (total book has 23 pages) [accessible reading excerpt: 16 pages]

Lady Berg wanted to pass for a secular lady, a true princess. Who cares that behind closed doors she is an experienced alcoholic? The main thing is that her evenings are an example of good manners.

The relatives of August held the image of a respectable person as an ideal. They didn't try to understand August, they found fault with his behavior. I don't give a damn that they are dry and soulless people, dull as rain in December. But they know how to behave. But Augustus, a renegade and scoundrel, does not want to. If he doesn't respect elders, then he doesn't love them. A good boy should obey his father. True, I didn’t see my dad, but my grandfather was enough for me. Grandfather from the robot differed only in origin.

Perhaps I only knew two aristocrats who did not pretend to be anyone. Max and August. Max lived so greedily, as if it were his last minute. He did not look back either at the opinion of society or at his reputation. However, perhaps I am mistaken in thinking that he was not pretending? Maybe this is also a mask - a kind of enfan-terrible, but in fact he is a quiet person, prone to armchair studies?

But August wasn't exactly pretending. And he doesn't have to, he's a genius.

– Max? Amber asked as I said the whole tirade out loud. “No, I think he is. He is cramped and bored, so he prescribes a pretzel. He rarely enjoys himself and life. He told me that he was happy a few years ago, but not for long.

"I hope it's not related to me?"

Amber smiled slightly sadly.

“He never talked about you. Nothing. All I know is the words of his sister, who does not like me. They even gave me a different name.

I sighed.

“Della is a half-abbreviation, half-pseudonym. Dad shouldn't have drunk that last glass when he was choosing a name for his daughter. Because what kind of Ophelia am I?!

“A very pretty name,” protested Amber. “And the real Ophelia was not at all what Shakespeare portrayed her. This is not my topic, but I read one study that proves ... She was killed because she was smarter, more charismatic and independent than her father and brother. She refused to submit to the usurper and could even inspire a conspiracy. Therefore, she was killed. Perhaps drowned. Because she knew a lot, and it was impossible to allow Hamlet and Ophelia to join forces.

- And you? Are you pretending to be someone?

- Oh no. I'm very drunk, I'm dizzy, but the conversation is so interesting. She distracts me from my intoxication. I should probably leave before I fall off my chair, that would be very unpleasant. The fact that the fall is indecent, I can still accept, but it would give you unnecessary trouble, and I do not want the meeting to end in irritation.

“I can put you to sleep in the guest room. It's better than calling a taxi, what if you fall asleep in the car?

- Thank you, but I won’t sleep, I’m so unwell that I’ll try not to sleep. There is no need for a taxi, I called my mother's driver, he arrived an hour ago and is waiting by the garden terrace. Mom can’t think of a trip without comfort. She did not want to let me go alone to the conference, she flew with me, and, of course, she took a car and a driver with her. Many people think that this is effeminacy and spoiledness, but I believe that there is nothing wrong with that. After all, with her habits, mother gives money to so many poor people!

God, I thought, where did you come from? You can literally find merit in everything.

With a wrong hand, I found a blister of anti-alcohol and a jar of detox in the medicine cabinet. It's a pity I didn't think to take them with me yesterday, then I wouldn't have bothered with a Taggie cocktail or a Sonya port. Amber became interested, I explained: the first pills should be taken to remove intoxication, and the second - poisoning.

– Oh, I didn’t even hear that such drugs exist!

Naturally, I have not heard, these are special equipment, they will not be sold in a pharmacy. We ourselves do not buy them so much as "get them", despite the federal license. They are produced in strictly limited quantities, and if suddenly, for example, the special intelligence residency on dissident planets all go on a drinking binge for the good of the state, the rest simply do not have enough.

Amber looked at the pills doubtfully.

Here it is, a real aristocratic upbringing. Everything should be traditional. If you drink, then please go through the whole cycle - the first euphoria, drunken hysteria, heavy sleep, so similar to loss of consciousness, and morning torture - with a headache, nausea, pangs of conscience for yesterday and a concession to yourself in the form of a glass of vodka.

Luckily, Amber lived up to my expectations and tried the pills. Five minutes later I realized that she really was very drunk - because under the influence of drugs her eyes cleared up, and her gestures acquired completeness and accuracy.

I walked her to the car and then went to August. The chief was dissatisfied, and even his usual equanimity evaporated somewhere.

“Della, getting drunk at this time of day is indecent.

- You, as it turned out, have known Max for God knows how many years?

August stuttered, not expecting a turn in the subject.

- Didn't they tell you?

- The main thing is that you imagine what he is. Well, do you still have doubts about my manners?

Max is very well brought up.

- He - yes. And when he wants, he can show off with high-society gestures. The trouble is that he likes bad girls who will climb trees with him and play war games. Therefore, he did not educate me, but on the contrary, he strongly approved of boyish antics. And he especially liked it when I violated decorum.

All men like girls like that. Or almost everyone.

- You are looking for tender young ladies, touch it - it will wither!

“And our mothers like those, who themselves were once bad girls. Therefore, if it is more important for a man to please his mother than himself, he pretends that he likes gentle ladies.

Why did you fight with Max?

“Della, in my circle men don’t fight. They meet for a duel, strictly limited by the rules.

- Fine. Why did you have a duel with Max?

August thought:

- I do not remember. He called, so I could miss the deaf ears, which was the reason. What's the difference, the right word. The challenge is up - you have to accept it. Max is a very strong opponent, technical, fast. It was an interesting fight.

“You must have won.

- Yes, the seconds thought it was me. Max insisted on a rematch. Here I refused. Like I have nothing better to do! And so it flew from my grandfather because I broke his award sword.

- Oh, you are still on swords. So romantic.

- I prefer gentleman's boxing, but there were doubts that Max could do it. I asked him what he thought about swords. He agreed. He had his own, and I secretly took it from my great-uncle. We were both wearing small chest armor covering only the heart, liver and stomach. Max left a scar on my left arm, and I hit him under the right collarbone, literally half an inch above the edge of the armor, into the shoulder strap. The blade pierced the belt, passed between the ribs, rested against the shoulder blade and broke. I did not expect, the sword looked just like a real one.

- Wonderful. August, you are truly a genius. To kill a man ten years older than you, who, moreover, was almost born with a sword - you have to be able to do it!

He shrugged.

- Della, I also grew up in a family where boys are taught from childhood all sorts of unnecessary things that only clutter up the brain. I rarely use these skills because I don't see any practical use in them. But I know and remember all this. Now go to sleep, you're drunk.

“I'll be fine in half an hour. I have some ideas.

“Go to bed,” he repeated, and left the office.

I sighed heavily. And went to sleep, and what to do something.

* * *

As subsequent events showed, sleeping in was by no means a stupid idea. Although I cannot rule out that Augustus calculated the situation with his brilliant brains and chose the optimal sequence of our actions.

Because in the evening Maximilian van den Berg came to us in person, and in a capacity in which I could not even imagine him: as a client. So my day off is over.

“I want you to investigate the murder of Mr. John Smith, an elf,” he said, sitting imposingly in the client chair, crossing his legs and wrapping his knee in clasped fingers.

“As far as I remember, Prince, John Smith was not your servant or the child of your servants. You hadn't even heard of him before his death.

When talking to customers, August always said "you", even if he knew them damn well. He would have turned to "you" and to his own mother, if she were in this office on business.

“I’ll explain,” Max agreed. - My distant relative is a high rank in the transport ministry. He was extremely disturbed by this murder, since John Smith was a federal employee. My relative fears that this murder is not without reason. He wants to know exactly why he was killed. Whether because the elf ended up in a position that is prestigious in the eyes of some people, or because he participated in any fraud, or he was killed because he tried to prevent such fraud. This is not the first murder of a federal employee by the same gang, or by the same maniac. Since another victim was related to transportation, there are different ... thoughts. My relative thinks that the police will take the easy way out to close the issue. Anything can be behind these murders, from the theft of public funds to an attempted coup. There is no need to argue, such cases are known, when a seemingly nonsense incident ...

“Yes, the Vanilla robbery,” Augustus agreed. - Although the coup d'état in relation to that case is still too loudly said. Regardless of the ambitions of the leader of the gang, the limit of its capabilities is to terrorize a small city. And that is not for long.

“It doesn’t matter to me at all,” Max retorted. - As you yourself understand, my relative could not contact you personally - due to his official position and the obligations associated with it. So he asked me for a favor.

- I hope you realize that I am obliged to show the contract with your signature to the police?

- It's okay, - Max waved it off, - I'm not negotiating with you about buying a batch of slaves. Like any citizen, I have the legal right to worry when a crime is committed.

“Definitely,” August confirmed.

For the next fifteen minutes they heatedly discussed the details of the treaty. Fifteen minutes later they shook hands. I took out the forms of contracts, filled them out and submitted them for signature - first to August, then to Max. Max stared at the documents with bulging eyes.

- Are you using paper?

“Don't worry,” Augustus replied, “this isn't cellulose paper. Plastic. But very good workmanship. I respect the requirements of ecology with reverence.

Max just blinked.

- I am not talking about that.

- Oh, sorry. - August did not move his ear. “I have a full federal license. A number of documents are required to be signed on paper.

“I thought that now only land deeds and wills are written on paper,” Max chuckled and reached for the stylus.

Yes, I understand him. She herself was shocked when she agreed to become not only an operative, but also August's secretary, and he listed my new duties. How so, the documentation - and on paper?! It's a matter of license. Augustus had the right to conduct an investigation throughout the territory of the State of Earth. The territories are divided into states, and in each state the federal legal "skeleton" is overgrown with its own "meat". On the Earth itself and in most states of the first or second radius, a digital signature is equated to a handwritten one. Others require a handwritten signature. And somewhere, literally all documents are certified by it, somewhere - only notarial and banking ones. In the tenth state, even though it is in the first radius, six years ago they banned the digital signature on property documents. There was an unpleasant incident: the patriarch, who had fallen into childhood, bequeathed all his property to the nurse, died a few days later, the nurse suddenly became a rich lady, and the old man's family ended up on the street. This is because it is possible to digitally sign even if you are incapacitated: it does not require coordinated motor skills and even relative clarity of mind. Fortunately for the affected family, they managed to prove the fraud there, and justice prevailed. But in order to prevent such misunderstandings, wills, deeds and bills of sale now required a handwritten signature.

By the way, on Earth, many notaries and attorneys also began to insure themselves by duplicating important documents “on paper”. God saves man, who save himself. And all holders of full federal licenses - including Augustus - were literally charged with keeping paper records. Not entirely, of course, - only contracts and client orders. And thanks for that; if we were forced to keep a log of events on paper, I probably would rebel.

“Della,” August called, “you will go to Kruger. Now. Figure out how to lure him out of the house.

- Yes, boss. I got up to go to my room.

- Great. Max leaned back in his chair. - We'll take a walk in the garden.

I suspected a trick. But I was in the service and had no right to question August or to tease Max. So I went to get dressed.

The meeting was planned, albeit on a day off, but official and difficult. First, Krueger will swear and grab his head, then whine about how tired McKinby and I are of him, then bargain over every little thing. Without thinking twice, I put on my favorite trouser deuce. So that Krueger doesn't think that I've become smart, become a good girl, or, worse, I'm trying to impress him.

Half an hour later I returned to the office. Max was just about to leave.

Both were a little… disheveled. Max's face was also hardened with rage. Before I had time to open my mouth, August politely opened the door for the guest:

- All the best, prince.

“Yeah,” Max said, and departed as decisively as if he was about to enter the parking lot through the wall.

I followed him with my eyes, waited until it was quiet, and looked inquiringly at August. Augustus combed his hair, putting his hair back into a sleek helmet. I kept silent. A person likes to disfigure himself - let him.

Life turned out so that August and I actually had two acquaintances. We first met when we studied at neighboring universities. I caught the very period when August walked in jeans, wore a tangled mane and was called Sandy. Then one bastard tried to poison him, Sandy thundered into intensive care. After spending several days unconscious, he awoke to find his hair matted into felt. I asked the nurse to shave them. After the treatment, he changed a lot, he didn’t see me at point-blank range, and I didn’t try to get into his eyes. I just heard that he no longer let his hair go, he liked to sparkle with his bare skull. In Greater York, I saw an absolutely, universally indifferent to everything man without age with thin, straight hair, and a color unfavorable for such a structure - wheaten. They are either painted black, or cut in some other way, it’s not a sin to shave off at all. And he was smooth, so that they fit tightly around his head, combed them back. As he left, Augustus turned his back, and I was convinced that the hair only seemed thin - the ponytail in which he put it was thick.

And then they tried to drown us both in the sewers on Lucton. Yes, yes, the very bathing in the collector. Bathing with shackled hands and with a rail on the legs. The scoundrels did not take into account that I was a regular intelligence officer, even if in the past - but in the recent past - and August ... Well, to be honest, he surprised me then too. Very much. Of course, I understood that he had a good breath - with such a chest and excellent health it would be strange to have bad lungs - but not a Jedi!

After that forced bath in icy sewage, we warmed up and washed ourselves at the local police station. There was no hair gel in the police department, so I had the pleasure of seeing my boss as he is, as they say. I frankly admired the rich, curly mane, which shimmered with all the shades of a ripe grain field. It was even better than Sandy's.

What a pity that August turned out to be more stubborn than a ram and let all the persuasion to change his hairstyle go past his ears ...

- What is it this time?

August raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Max asked if I really said that you look better without a dress than in it. I answered - yes, there was something similar, but what, he considers this statement false? He suggested that I had little reason for such conclusions, I objected that it was just him - he saw you in a dress for the first time in his life, he had nothing to compare with. After which we found out which of us has the right to make such conclusions, and he went home. I hope he understands everything and will no longer insist on a rematch.

- And what this time? ..

- Boxing. Only hands, only to the body.

I shook my head. Boys.

“Keep in mind: he doesn't have any relatives in the transport department.

- Thank you. I know. He needed an excuse for frequent meetings with you, so he came up with it.

“And why did you agree, if you understood?”

“First, I need an excuse to do this business. And secondly, I did not find a single reasoned reason for refusal.

– And what do you think about it?

“I hate it when people try to make a romantic adventure out of work. By the way, Della: I do not limit your personal life, but be kind enough to spend the night at home.

I blinked in surprise.

- You're jealous, right?

“No,” Augustus said sharply. - I don’t like that you walk until the morning, and then drink in the morning.

"You're jealous," I said affirmatively. – You are afraid that your favorite red car will be stolen from you. It was Brenda Taggie who told me a new anecdote - about the fact that you perceive me as a particularly rare instance of a red car. And you will lay down with bones, but you will not allow me to pass into the hands of another “collector”.

"Don't be silly," was all August muttered. But by the way he looked away, I realized: hit the mark.

“Then give me instructions.

I have never received such instructions.

– Can you? August noticed that he had stunned me.

“Boss, I’m a scout, everything will be… all right.” But maybe I chose the wrong outfit.

“Yes, we need to be stricter,” Augustus nodded. - More impressive. You look too frivolous in trousers.

I wanted to hit him.

“You don’t know about women’s clothes!”

“I know Kruger,” he said.

- A business suit with a skirt? ..

- No. The skirt is the standard attire for the office. No one notices a woman in a skirt and jacket. As no one thinks what is hidden under the clothes of a woman in a police uniform.

Well, now, I thought. Are you going to tell me, a retired cop?

“Ideally,” August said, “Krueger should have a slight culture shock when you show up.

“What happiness,” I said. “Then you won’t ask me to come to him drunk, naked, and with a bloody kitchen knife in my hand.

August thought, and I hurried to leave.

* * *

I didn't have to persuade Kruger to meet at the cafe. He was called to work. On the way to the office, I checked the news. Sixth body. Orc, nineteen years old, which corresponds to about thirty years in a human. No details. Okay, now we'll find out on the spot.

Reporters were already hanging out in front of the entrance, looking rather miserable - amateurs, small fry. Using a few simple eye averting techniques, I slipped unnoticed almost to the door. However, at the last moment I relaxed, attracted attention, they recognized me and called out:

“Miss van den Berg, has your boss joined the investigation yet?”

I turned around and gave the reporter an icy look.

“I'm carrying cheesecakes for Senior Expert Krueger.

An amateur journalist is very easy to confuse: more than anything else, he is afraid of seeming ridiculous, getting into a stupid position, breccia stupidity. The professional won't get distracted figuring out exactly how I'm trying to fool him and make him look like an idiot. He will ask himself the main question: why am I doing this? And he certainly is not afraid to sit in a puddle. Any professional whose job is to extract information and analyze it regularly gets into a puddle. Take Kruger, for example. Or me. It's not us, it's a property of information. There is always too little of it.

For an experienced journalist, what cheesecakes, what a machine gun, everything is equally uninteresting, his object is me. I didn’t have a machine gun, but on the crook of my elbow I carefully carried a package with the logo of an expensive bakery. Reporters, as if on cue, stared at him. Half a second of confusion allowed him to slip into the glass whirlpool of doors and emerge already in the hall. The attendant bared his teeth.

“Good joke,” he nodded, “must be adopted.

- The joke is a lie, but there is a hint in it. I really need a Kruger. I remembered something important about the previous corpse. I've found this poor elf.

- Maybe Johansson will suit you? He's doing business. And Kruger is busy now.

- Johansson? – I was surprised. He got promoted, didn't he?

- Yes, yesterday. - The duty officer was distracted by the outer camera. "Excuse me, one minute...

“Of course,” I said.

And calmly headed for the elevators. The attendant only sighed sadly behind my back, but did not run after me. He also understood that I asked questions for the sake of formality - more precisely, to find out if Kruger was in the department, otherwise he suddenly left for the morgue or somewhere else.

Krueger was really busy. And he is busy in the company of the same Ian Johansson. Therefore, after looking through the glass that separated the senior expert's office from the common room, I entered without knocking.

I said Monday! Kruger snapped.

He looked bad. Of course. I silently walked over to the table, sat down on the first chair that came up and crossed my legs.

Krueger glanced sideways at me and grimaced. I was wearing a strict black dress, and over it a jacket with sleeves up to the elbows. Hair styled not in a working way, but as a secular reception. Maybe I didn’t achieve a culture shock, but there was a certain shift in the head of the senior expert. At the very least, he decided that I had come to torment him, not to beg. And now I hoped at least to transfer the torment to tomorrow.

“Look, Della…” he started threateningly.

“I’ll wait until you calm down and remember that there is a lady here,” I answered arrogantly.

- I remember, yes. There is something else I can remember...

- That's wonderful. Those details of my official biography that you are hinting at will now come in handy - fewer unnecessary questions.

“Listen, Della, I'm busy. Kruger wasn't about to give up so quickly.

Do you want me to wait for you outside? In a crowd of weird kids who think they know how to make news?

Krueger groaned.

- Okay, post what you need. Yen, then. She won’t leave anyway, it’s easier to figure it out right away ... Tell Kossa there, let him bring coffee. Two.

Ian walked away, allowing himself one polite smile directed at me.

- And who is he now? I asked as the door closed behind Ian.

- Who should be from the very beginning. Investigator.

- Oh, how. And why did you work as a junior criminalist?

Krueger gritted his teeth.

"Della, why are you here?!"

I placed copies of the investigation agreement and August's license on Krueger's desk.

- Again!!!

Only this was not enough for Kruger to be completely happy - for a first-class inquisitor to get into the case, from which his hair was already standing on end.

“Kruger,” I leaned forward, “let’s not be so pathetic, huh? No time. You won't solve this case without us.

- Why is this even more ... joy ?!

- With such that the average man in the street cannot afford an elf servant.

– Just a working version!

- Listen, that's enough. There was an elf. To keep an elf in the house, I'm already silent - to raise him, this is the privilege of the nobility. So, you will have to deal with the tribal aristocracy. And you yourself know that the last baron is shabby - a very uncomfortable person when you need to talk to him. In the best case, his lawyer will contact you. Yes, you are obliged to tell everything that can shed light on the crime. But how can you prove that you are disturbing this or that sovereign lord for a legitimate and weighty reason? Real aristocrats are busy gentlemen, they have a lot of trouble in their mouths, and labor laws do not protect them from overwork. They rule the planets. They just missed you!

“Yeah, do you hope…

I don't have to prove anything to anyone. Already because I was married to one of them and work for another.

I tapped the contract with my fingernail. Krueger read the first lines, his eyes widened, he stared at me:

- Didn't understand. You asked him, didn't you?

- Well, here's more. Maximillian van den Bergh, just so you know, doesn't get along with Augustus-Alexander Paul Nicholas-and-twelve-names McKinby. And of his own free will, he will not turn to him for anything.

"Then what made him?"

- And you think. What made him, what made me, what made August, who repays Max in kind...

Kruger considered. His secretary served coffee. Krueger opened the safe with a blank expression, took out a box of chocolates and placed in front of me:

- Eat yourself. I keep forgetting to ask: what did you finish? You don't have a police academy.

– Military University, department of tactical intelligence.

He raised his eyebrows at first, then let out an astonished exclamation. I hit him in the heart.

“Two years in combat service, then the police, Greater York. August led a complex investigation and was looking for an operative to help him. Colleagues decided to play a joke and offered him my candidacy - the whole department hated me.

- And you got along.

“It's not that hard, if you want to.

- Hm. Sorry for the faux pas, but you served in the army ...

“Unfortunately, this is classified information. Not at headquarters, if that's what you mean. Therefore, I can not even name the place of service.

– Yes, yes, I understand. Della... what is the best way to address you now? And the title?

– In public – Ophelia van den Berg. I don't have a title, I'm divorced. Alone - I beg you, do not!

“And you, I understand, want something unusual.

– Full interaction.

- So you will not only take, but also give? Share your content?

“Yes, of course,” I lied without batting an eyelid.

Well, how she lied ... We, of course, will throw something in.

- And first of all you are interested in federal employees. People.

- You're wrong. It's easier with them. In addition to you, insurers, tax officials and the feds are investigating their deaths. I think literally everything will be dug up. I'm interested in materials related to John Smith because of the contract to investigate his death. The rest, of course, too, but in an introductory manner. And first of all - aliens and non-citizens.

Krueger frowned.

“Looks like, for once, your boss and I think the same way. Still, a conspiracy of foreigners, huh? Clean-looking respectable servants, such all-right guys beyond suspicion, put together a gang ...

- My boss still does not think in any way, he has no food for his brilliant brains. Now, if I bring it to him in a beak, he will think so be it.

“However, he has already expressed the version that the elf was an accidental victim. Although I would consider the latter to be accidental.

- Orkushka. She resisted.

“I would take a look at the body, would you mind?”

I was almost sick of the sweet politeness of this conversation, but Krueger liked the game. I wondered what the commissar for six murders in a row would say to him, if Kruger made contact so quickly. He also has territorial instincts - like a large predator. Give him free rein, he would eat all the competitors on his land.

- Yes, later, out, I will give you Ian as an escort ...

- I'm flattered. Whole investigator?

Krueger laughed tightly.

– Expert, so what kind of metamorphosis happened to him?

Kruger sighed heavily.

- He's a romantic. Damn romantic. He is not looking for easy ways, he does not want a quiet life. That's the whole metamorphosis for you. He has an investigator's diploma. When it arrived, I couldn't take it. Well, no room. True, he said - come on in a year, Kush will retire with us, there will be a place. In the meantime, over there, on Everest, I know for sure that a specialist is needed. He went there and came back two weeks later. There, he says, the melancholy is mortal and there is nothing to learn, I tried all this as a student. I would like to work for you. Well, it’s clear: there are few people on Everest and things are stereotyped, everyday. A young guy, greedy for interesting work, is bored there ... Well, I blurted out - there is a place for a junior criminologist. Will you go? With your degree? He said I'll go. At the same time, I will master the specifics, I will fit into the team, and in a year, if we work together, you will transfer me to a free position as an investigator. And, Della, after all, no arrogance, he worked as he should! And here with these murders ... In short, we persuaded Kush to leave ahead of schedule. He didn't really mind, to be honest. After all, he led this business, well, he felt, it seems, that he could not cope. Yen took his place. And, accordingly, he inherited our gang.

“The Commissar found out what you were hiding?” That you have a good young specialist, but you do not use it?

- Well, yes. It's Ian's first job, he's worried, you already...

“I understand.” I smiled. - I will not press with charisma.

- And do not swear. He is well prepared, but there is little practice, and you are a lady ... In general, humanly - yes, I don’t just give him to accompany you ...

“Guardian,” I nodded. - Do not worry. I haven't spoiled anyone yet.

For some reason, Kruger turned purple and quickly changed the subject:

- Della, why did you leave the army? It's more interesting there. We're locked up within the state, and the military has a scope that spans the entire galaxy.

- Who told you that I left the army?

I smiled as dazzlingly as I could.

Krueger was killed outright.

"But you don't have to believe me at all," I added flippantly. - You did not receive any orders from your leadership on my account, and you were not even hinted at. And I didn't tell you either. Not those stakes in the game.

This is the first time I've seen Krueger really not know what to say.

When Ian Johansson arrived, an idyllic picture opened up to him: Kruger and I, completely stunned, studied the dossier of the victims with two heads.

“A new form of cooperation,” Krueger said without expression. - It is not prohibited by law. Everything except those documents that Mrs. van den Berg is not allowed to see. But we must show them to Mr McKinby.

In parting, I finished off Kruger. I unwrapped the bag and placed a colorful box with two freshly baked cheesecakes in front of it. Krueger was so taken aback that he tried. He liked this.

To the car, Ian and I had to wade through a noticeably grown crowd of reporters. Two patrolmen cleared the way, and we got out almost intact.

“I wonder what will be on the news feeds in a couple of minutes,” Ian said.

“I don't think they think we're going to the morgue. It's so boring.

“Yes,” he agreed. - Do you really serve in intelligence?

I kept silent.

“Don't worry, this is an operational machine, it looks around, but not inside. There is no wiretapping in the cabin.