How Petrovich was accused of murder

This “that very story” was told to us by our reader Evgeny Celenis. Eugene, thanks! We remind you: we are conducting the census of your marvelous stories. Incredible luck, htonic journey, life is more beautiful than inventions, funny cases, couries, a mess and amazing salvation, incidents and all the most unforgettable - we want to know all these stories. Write to us .

Petrovich was sleeping in a night train in a bloodied jacket. Of course, this species can be interpreted as you like, but reality, as usual, is sober and prosaic.

Petrovich is a family man of free views. He has a wife, three children and mistresses - sea waves. Passion and money that you can’t find on the shore are constantly pulling it further from home. Maybe for the better.

My father was cut off by a steel barrel to the phalanx of the index finger when he and Petrovich worked in the docks on the unloading of the vessel. Taking a cut piece in the other hand, dad and Petrovich went to the nearest hospital, where a subjective form was returned to a finger. The incident was exhausted without lyrical digressions, his father returned home, and for Petrovich the story was just beginning. The next day, he hurried into the port, forgetting about the blowing bloody divorce on his chest - like his wife, who did not wash his jacket.

In the city, no one paid much attention to the blood. There was such a time, and Petrovich himself could well have gone for a racketeer - strong and squat, with an impressive bristle and a lively disposition. Nobody noticed anything in the port - and this does not happen. "Maybe he fell into the hold, who knows." So Petrovich passed all day and, in principle, could continue. But it did not work out.

The train is lucky to the house of Petrovich. Exhausted by work and is not able to fight sleep, he completely forgets about the blood on the jacket. The spiritualistic sound of the wheels lulls. The night flies by. The bald trees that rush in the windows extinguish the blinding city. Railways with an X -ray glide over Petrovich's face and flow into neighboring benches. This is the end of the next working day, and usually nothing distracts Petrovich from "sleep before going to bed." But not this time.

Even the temple did not manage to freeze with a night cold, the windows were not yet covered with the hoar of the windows, the police hatched from the vestibule opposite, accompanied by an impressive crowd of passengers and confidently headed for Petrovich. First - a strong grip on the left shoulder. Petrovich grimaced and, without opening his eyes, tried to remove the claw. A moment later he was twisted and charged with murder.

At night, a fight and stabbing occurred in the train, apparently deliberate - a disassembly of local brothers, the usual business. Petrovich was put in a “loaf”, put on handcuffs and left “pickled”. The only thing he knows was the crime, and he is the main suspect. But no one comes to the cabinet for interrogations-a criminal-search life is in full swing behind the walls, and as if everyone had forgotten about Petrovich. Having earned a couple of gray hair in a languid expectation, Petrovich was convinced: he kills not hopelessness, but an unknown.

The father was called to a large house the next day. Dad testified that they were in the port, and at the time of the murder, Petrovich could not go in the train. Blood from the jacket was taken for analysis a few days later - fortunately, she did not coincide with the blood group of the murdered. The accusations are decayed, the escorts evaporated. Petrovich returned his favorite jacket and the next day he divorced his wife.