Ilya Yashin, an unregistered candidate for the Moscow City Duma, was arrested five times in a row in a month. The first time he was sent to a special detention center on July 29, and finally released on September 7. While under arrest, Yashin posted excerpts from conversations with police officers on Facebook. OVD-Info collected his stories.

August 18

An hour ago, they took me at the exit from the detention center, and now I was taken to the Troitsk police department. The duty officer meticulously draws up the detention before sending me to a cell for two days before the trial.

“So ... Shoelaces, phone, Troika card,” he lays out the contents of my pockets on the table. - Look like that's it?"

The convoy indicates the direction to the camera.

“Stop, stop,” the operative who was watching the process intervenes. - What about the belt? Forgot the belt.

And they really forgot. It’s bad without a belt, but there’s nothing to do: I obey. The attendant notices my displeasure.

“Those are the rules,” he grins. “Suddenly you want to hang yourself on the grate there.”

“That’s unlikely,” I annoy. "Don't wait."

At these words, the senior officer, who had come to control from Glaucus, started up. Big bald guy.

“Here you are wrong, Ilya Valeryevich,” he shook his head. We are not interested at all. Can you imagine how many papers we will have to write if something happens to you here?

“You are just like Putin,” I say. Do you remember how he proved his innocence in the murder of Politkovskaya? Like, dead she gave him more problems than alive.

The officer squared his shoulders proudly.

"Heard? He nodded to the attendant. “I’m like Putin!”

24 August

They escorted me to the Moscow City Court yesterday beautifully. Five policemen led by a major, handcuffed on both hands, and in a paddy wagon - a dog handler with a dog. Matyora such a shepherd dog with smart eyes.

Shaking on the way to the meeting.

"Why a dog? I ask. - Are we going to look for drugs? Or a weapon?

“No,” explains the dog handler. - It's a convoy dog. Trained to catch the fugitives.

I look at the senior officer with bewilderment. He seems to be embarrassed too.

“Well, what about me? - throws up his hands. “These bosses think you're prone to absconding and are demanding more measures. And now I would be better off sitting on the couch at home. ”

Here's what I want to say.

Dear police authorities! Are you completely out of your mind there? What else is an escape? Much honor to run from you.

And it's stuffy in the paddy wagon, by the way, and the dog is suffering. Stop bullying animals.

August 28

“Probably see you later,” the duty officer returns my personal belongings, glancing out the window. A paddy wagon is already waiting there, and several policemen are shifting from one foot to the other.

I'm going to the exit.

"Don't hurry," the head of the special detention center stands at the door.

We look at each other.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

“You are released at 14:20, right?” he clarifies. I nod.

The chief shows the clock: 14:18.

We wait.

***

Soldiers in black uniform of the 2nd Operational Regiment of the Ministry of Internal Affairs are on the threshold. The elder cheerfully reports that I was detained for calling for a rally, and for some reason he smiles all the time. I film his performance on video and publish it on social networks.

An hour later we are already at the police station, and the same fighter, in his own way, sits next to me on a chair.

“I read your Facebook,” he says. “Where did you put me?”

"And How? Liked?"

“What is there to like? I just smiled, and there is such a hi. And they really insult you."

I look at him with interest: it seems that the truth is going through.

"Got upset?" I ask.

“Damn, if you don’t smile, it’s bad, if you smile, it’s bad again,” the fighter complains. Have you seen American films? There, the policemen smile all the time, no one insults them. And I smiled, and away we go: smiling, animal ... ".

"Don't be sad, sergeant."

Charming captain Maria in the Tverskoye police department introduces me to the case file. I read the report: “The crowd shouted “Putin…!” and did not obey the police.

“What is this slogan? - I clarify. “Putin and the ellipsis.”

“Well, they seemed to be shouting that Putin is a thief. It’s just missed, ”Masha is embarrassed.

“So let’s finish it,” I take a pen.

Maria grabs the paper.

“You can’t, what are you!”

***

“Here you are itching, Ilya,” the operative shakes his head at the door of the bullpen, where I will spend the night.

"In terms of?"

“Well, I would have served in peace and walked already free.”

"Am I restless?"

“What, calmly? He wrote something about the elections, harnessed himself for some kind of communist, who had to be removed after that ... ”

Opens the cell door.

“You just seem to like to piss off the bosses,” the opera frowns.

To be honest, yes, I like it.

***

The cell is tiny: no windows, no bed. You feel like you are in a stone bag. But on the wall proudly flaunts the inscription "Ingush power!".

“Are you completely stupid?!” the duty officer yells outside the door. Someone answers him, confusing Russian and, it seems, Uzbek words.

“And I’m telling you again,” the officer freaks out. “Until you pay the fine, you will sit in a cage.”

“No money, commander…”

“Hold the phone. Call fellow countrymen. Shegelme-begelme, your mother.

***

Closer to the night in the next cell, they begin to knock on the door. They ask for food: “The second day they didn’t eat ...” The duty officer yells that this is not a restaurant, be patient.

After about 20 minutes, he comes to me and asks me to sign for the mattress. I ask about neighbors.

“Yes, there are three Kyrgyz sitting there, do not pay attention,” the policeman dismisses. “I gave them biscuits from dry land, they won’t die of hunger.”

I have three packages of food from supporters in my cell: much more than I can eat. I collect water, bread, cold cuts - please pass it on. The attendant reluctantly agrees.

“From the heart, brother! From the heart! shout the Kirghiz through the wall. After dinner, they begin to sing. The department's employees are initially angry and bang on the door to shut them up; but eventually reconciled.

The Kirghiz sing sincerely.

***

“But you still don’t remember me, do you?” Captain Masha smiled in the morning as she escorted me to court. She says that she made out me in 2010 after the opposition rally. She is also familiar with Navalny and Udaltsov.

“Since then, I have already given birth to two,” Masha says and strokes her stomach. I'm waiting for the third one.

Everywhere life.

4 September

Usually, a paddy wagon drove me to the appeal to the Moscow City Court. This is inconvenient: you have to sit on a wooden bench, and each bump responds with a blow to the back.

On Tuesday, they sent a car with a flashing light and a pair of intelligent escorts. Very polite guys.

“Ilya, there is still time before the trial,” one of them said. “Do you mind if we help out a colleague along the way?”

The colleague turned out to be an ensign whose car broke down. It was necessary to capture him at the car service and drop him off at the police department on the way to the meeting.

“Great, I’m Zhenya,” the ensign greeted me, settling in the front seat. I watched your videos on youtube.

"And what do you think?" - I'm interested.

"Positively! Zhenya approved. - I also do not approve of Sobyanin. We are with you ... how to say something? .. fellow soldiers!

“Maybe I’ll give you my bunk in the special detention center then, fellow soldier?”

Neighing. The lieutenant was sociable. Fifty years old, with a bulbous nose, wrinkles, and Ray-Ban sunglasses in an odd contrast to his police uniform.

“Well, now Putin will leave,” he went with trump cards. “And who then?”

We discussed Navalny. The ensign sympathizes with him, he watches the investigation. But he fears: what if this is the new Yeltsin? He, they say, was also a democrat at the beginning and rode the tram, and then "there is how everything turned out."

“I have everything you know, for whom? - speaks. For Grudin! But he disappeared somewhere after the elections…”

I briefly described to him exactly where all these candidates go after the elections, and said that what is more important is not who instead of Putin, but what.

“The main thing is control over the president and turnover,” I explain. - You put anyone in this place, even Grudinin, even you. Everyone without control will turn into Putin. Understand?"

Jenny scratched his chin thoughtfully. At that moment, the car abruptly changed lanes and, turning on the siren, rushed forward. The ensign's police cap flew off his head.

“Kostya, fuck it, let’s do it without the second space velocity,” he cursed at the driver. He snarled without malice: they got it with their policy.

“Well, how do you knock them off? Eugene turned to me again. - Well, Sechin is the same. There's some money there. So they will disperse and close you.

“You yourself are a cop,” I say. - So tell me, how much can you disperse? Well, ten thousand, right? Well, fifty? And if the people are finally finished baking and a million will come out, will it be possible to disperse them?

“A million is unlikely,” the ensign agreed. “But I hope to be retired by then.”

The car stopped near the police station.

“When you come to power, don’t forget about the police,” Zhenya said, pulling on his cap.

“Well, yes,” I answer. “The police know about us. So we won't forget."

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Especially about the operational regiment and the riot police.”

The ensign went out into the street and walked briskly in his ridiculous Ray-Ban glasses.

Soul uncle.