Is the wedding ring a symbol of a loved one or an adornment unnecessary after the wedding? Two days before the concert, I met with the Patriarch.

Hello everyone. With you again, Alexey Colonel, Happy new Tuesday to you. "Radio Chanson in Nizhny Novgorod" v recent times presents surprise after surprise. Although Alexander Novikov did not appear in our city for the first time, he found it difficult to remember the date of his previous arrival. And I have never personally communicated with Alexander before. It is very difficult to imagine that this person will turn 50 in October! But the very first thought that came to mind when meeting with Novikov: "Well, the shaft!" (V good sense this word.)

Alexander, what is your height in centimeters?

A. N: One hundred ninety six.

After seeing you on TV a couple of times, I expected a maximum of 180.

A.N .: Another confirmation that television is big deception... On TV, Decl looks much taller than me.

Were you attracted to basketball in your youth?

A. N: Yes, at an amateur level at school and at the institute. But I don't really like basketball. Much more, for many years I have been playing football and also boxing. Later in my life it came in very handy: kick and punch.

According to some reports, in 1984 you suddenly retired from your studies in rock music and recorded the album "Cabby", considering rock and roll at that time "toothless". This is true?

A.N .: No. I never said that. In 1984, the rock movement in Sverdlovsk (now Yekaterinburg) was just emerging. The Sverdlovsk rock club was formed with such groups as "Urfin Jus" and "Nastya". I also participated in several groups. And he wrote songs for a long time. One day keyboardist Alexei Khomenko came to the studio, listened and said: "Let's record it." And they wrote down: first "I came from the Jewish quarter", and then "Cabby". And so everyone liked who listened to what they said to me: "Come on." I finished writing the material for the album in a month, and in another month we recorded it in the studio. At the same time, I was engaged in equipment: I had a lot of it, and for concerts I gave it to our Sverdlovsk rock groups. No one else had anything. I remember I came to Butusov with Umetsky at the Architectural Institute, and they played on such junk ... Well, I bought Umetsky a bass guitar, and the drummer - Zeme - drums. He just played what the hell ...

That is, how did you buy it? Bought it in a store and donated it?

A. N: Well, yes. And then, when they put me in prison, those guys who recorded "Cabby" with me united with Butusov, Umetsky and Zema, and the group "Nautilus Pompilius" was formed.

About the equipment. What are you, such an outstanding "homemade"?

A. N: I could do it and did it myself, and then, when the business acquired a serious scale, I already began to manage several areas of production. I can say with confidence that at that time I was the largest hardware manufacturer in the country.

This became official reason criminal case?

A. N: Songs became the reason for the criminal case. It consists of 17 volumes, each volume consists of 400 pages. And the first page of the first volume is entitled: "Expertise on the songs of Alexander Novikov". Further, a review of each of the eighteen songs of the album in the spirit of the newspapers of the 37th year. There I am accused of promoting violence, drunkenness, prostitution and, in general, of all sins. And as a summary, the following phrase: "The author of the above needs, if not psychiatric, then prison isolation for sure!"

And what about the official verdict?

A. N: It was actually canceled seven years ago. But it sounded like this: "For the manufacture and sale of electronic music equipment, theft of public and state funds on an especially large scale by means of fraud." That is, they fabricated the case in this way: allegedly, I passed off this equipment as imported, thereby committing fraud and stealing money from citizens on an especially large scale (the scale of sales was really large). But my equipment could be mistaken for imported equipment only either by a down-and-out idiot, or by an expert of this very investigative group.

Alexander, some call you almost the creator of the Russian chanson. How do you yourself feel about this?

A. N: I have one story about this. Last year I performed in Krasnoyarsk and along the way got on a television talk show. There is a presenter, calls to the studio and about sixty people in the studio itself. Everything goes on as usual, and suddenly in the middle of the hall such a gray, fine-looking, neat old woman stands up, she looks like she is ninety years old, and says: "Sasha, I love your songs so much, when I was young, I listened to them so much! .."

But I also heard such information that our former Prime Minister Yevgeny Primakov is one of your friends. Is it so?

A. N: In general, yes.

How did it happen, if not a secret? He is in Soviet times was a major figure.

A. N: First of all, I want to say that individuals of such a scale, such a mindset and such an amazing depth of soul will be in demand under any system. Primakov - noblest man and a great specialist. I am ready to say this always and everywhere, because I know. And we met on the plane. When the Kursk sank, Putin gathered all academics and politicians in Sochi for a brainstorming session. They were already on their way back to Moscow, and I got on the same plane. Primakov's assistant came up to me at his request for an autograph with a piece of paper. I say: "Well, I'll give Yevgeny Maksimovich a CD." Signed the disc. A couple of minutes later Primakov himself steps out into the aisle and calls out: "Sasha! May I call you that? We invite you to our place." I walk up, and there Rem Petrov is the vice-president of the Academy of Sciences, yes, in fact, all the others are also academicians, grandfathers are so intelligent. It was very nice to talk to. Primakov said that he also writes poetry, books and wants to present a return gift. I invited him to a concert, left my phone number. What struck me was that a week later, on the appointed day, exactly at the appointed time, Evgeny Maksimovich called and said that he would be at the concert. Well-known politicians and people in high positions are often at my concerts. They behave differently. Some are having fun, some are talking on a cell phone, some are asleep drunk. The public does not always react to them. And then, when I announced that Primakov was in the hall, there was just a standing ovation. It is immediately evident that the people love him. During the break he came to me, we each have a little cognac. Says: "I was planning to leave the second department. But I will stay, I like it." Since then we have been communicating, sometimes on business.

You know, recently our guest, in the city, was Alexander Alexandrovich Dolsky. And in the conversation, he said that you passed off your first songs for him. What is this story?

A. N: Indeed, it was so. I told him about it myself. As a boy, at the age of 15 - 16, I went to his concerts. And he himself was already composing something, but he was embarrassed to pass it off as his own. In this regard, he was very timid. In all other respects impudent, combative, even impudent, but as for the songs, timid. It seemed to me that I would say that mine would be called nonsense - and that's it, a disaster, I won't write anything else. And so he passed it off as Dolsky, then as Vertinsky and watched the reaction - whether it would work or not. Since they are silent, they do not say: "What kind of rubbish did Dolsky write!" - means normal. There was such a sin. But in general, Dolsky had a serious influence on me. I really wanted to learn how to play the guitar like him.

Happened?

AN: The way he did it, it still didn't work out. Dolsky plays, of course, much better. But now this task is no longer necessary to accompany my songs.

Alexander Novikov told me many interesting things in a conversation. For example, he named the names of now very famous cultural figures and the media who once lived in Sverdlovsk, who wrote denunciations of the rebellious author-performer. After his release, he kept these denunciations in own hands and read with my own eyes.

Alexander, in the early eighties you were in close contact and helped the Sverdlovsk rock musicians, and in the nineties you suddenly took up the producer of the pop singer Natalia Shturm. How did this happen and where did she suddenly disappear to?

A. N: Accidentally came across her. I went to the pop theater one evening, there was a concert there. A girl is standing in the corridor, combing her hair in front of the mirror. I ask jokingly: "Girl, are you singing or dancing?" Apparently, she was offended: "What are you doing !? I am a singer - Natalya Shturm. And who are you?" - "I am Alexander Novikov". She paused, looked me up and down: "I thought you were a little bald Jew and live in America." (Let me remind you that A. Novikov's height is 196 cm. - Auth.). We started talking. She: "Maybe you will listen to me?" - "I'll listen." He stood in the wings. She sang three songs. I told her: "The sooner you throw this material into the trash, the sooner you will become famous." - "I would throw it away, but where else can I get something?" - "Well, once I gave a hint, then I'll write." And I wrote.

And how did the whole story end?

A. N: I haven't seen her for five years, I can't say anything. But in life it happens that star fever falls on a person before glory comes to him. And this is one of those sad cases. We parted with her on her phrase: "If not for your stupid songs, I would have become a star a long time ago. "I just replied:" If you want to be a star - be her ... "

Do you know that Alexander Rosenbaum is suing a certain "karaoke" company in connection with the use of his songs? But your songs are also present there.

A. N: We are now following the process (not only me, there are many of us). If Aleksandr Yakovlevich wins, creates a precedent, we will "tear them apart" there.

You are an Ovation Prize laureate somewhere in the mid-nineties. (It was not possible to clarify, since Alexander himself does not really remember. - Author). How did you, a person far from "official", react to this award?

A. N: To be honest, I found out about it fifteen days after the assignment. Was on tour in Ufa, a friend called. And at the official ceremony for television, I was generally given an Antonov diploma - they are all the same there - but they forgot to write it in my name. They said: "Then we'll write it out."

Have you written it out?

A. N: Yes. As for the attitude, well, of course, it was nice. And so ... I do not suffer from a passion for all pennants and certificates of honor.

And you do not have the title of "honored" or "national" for an hour?

A. N: What are you !? There is nothing more shameful for a poet than to have some kind of title. The poet is the highest of all titles.

I heard that you spoke very impartially about such a figure as Igor Krutoy?

A. N: Yes. And now I can repeat it. Today, power in show business has been usurped by several villains, one of whom is Igor Krutoy, who rob artists by collecting bribes. That's millions of dollars a month. All broadcasts, all awards of the year - they are paid. And thanks to him and others like him, we have such a decadent, caricatured, shameful show business. On the TV are the same faces, which right there, on the TV, before our very eyes, have already grown old and become a parody of ourselves. It's a shame to watch this, and a shame for the state.

Can you name anyone else along with Igor Krutoy?

A. N: What is the name there, who runs the "Full House"? I call them all "laughters". Half of them are simply pathetic. In my opinion, they sincerely hate Russia and scoff at it. To a normal person it's not funny, it's all below the belt. All this is extremely plebeian in nature.

I'm not the first to ask you the question: what is the way out of this situation? Do you personally see it from your bell tower?

A. N: The state needs to invest money in education, in spiritual values. People who listen to Rostropovich from childhood and go to Tretyakov gallery, and not at the concerts of Decl and Shura, will grow up spiritually rich and beautiful. And all this husk will die off naturally. Literate, spiritually rich people will not watch these vomit TV shows and low-error films, which I consider to be a shameful phenomenon in our culture. You will remember the masterpieces of our cinema. What brilliant actors we lived with at the same time! And what a wretched gray mass we are seeing now. And how can a teacher who receives a penny raise a child? If our president went not to the concerts of "Lyube" and Baskov, but to The Bolshoi Theatre... And his servants from the Kremlin would have walked with him ... Maybe in a few years we would have seen some kind of gap. The art of the plebs should not be decisive. High art must be present in the country.

And you yourself to " Russian show business"don't you?

A. N: I consider myself to be insulting and humiliating. I do not participate in the general pack, and therefore I can say what I think and behave the way I want. I will tell everyone without false modesty that if today my concert is shown in its entirety on television, then a lot will change in this show business. I have a pretty high bar. And my concert is different from what is shown now, like the Eiffel Tower from the outhouse.

So it turns out that there are absolutely no worthy artists on our stage?

A. N: Why? There are a lot of worthy ones. Nikolay Noskov is an amazing musician. Alexander Malinin - he sings at a concert like on a record, never out of tune. We have a lot of musicians who really know how to sing and play. Russia, like no other country, is rich in talents, but today it is very difficult for them to break through. Mediocrities are easier to tame and then cut, so they pass. The same "factory of stars" is another profanation. Will real stars allow themselves to be brought down into the herd? And it is impossible to "give birth" to talent through cultivation. A star is a phenomenon. And today this group of persons performing on stage a complex of orthopedic exercises and making sounds, proudly called singing, is already traveling around the country on tour. They have not done anything in life yet, they stood on the stage where it was ordered, and when it was ordered, they opened their mouths. And further. Today our stage has lost the most important thing - it has lost its gender identity. Who is at the top of the charts? Lesbians and homosexuals. And when they suddenly call me a "star", I am distressed, because today this concept has devalued, has lost its former value and meaning.

At the end of the official part of the conversation, I could not help but show curiosity and asked Alexander about his legendary ring with either an emerald or blue topaz (rumor attributes the stone to enormous dimensions). Alexander explained that in fact there is not one ring (more precisely, one with just blue topaz and several with emeralds - this is his stone), and willingly showed the one that was with him at the moment - with an emerald. Indeed, the pebble is impressive. At the same time, Alexander Vasilyevich took out and put on a "presentation" watch "Roger Dubuis", casually comparing its cost with the six hundredth "Mercedes". (There are only 28 of them in the world, with Novikov's number 12.) It's nice that in our country, a singer-songwriter (not everyone, of course) can sometimes afford a little luxury.

The same "factory of stars" is another profanation. Will real stars allow themselves to be brought down into the herd?

That's all for today. Trust me. sometimes not a clock adorns a person, but a person clocks (even "Roger Dubuis"). And on this I say goodbye to you for a while. See you in the next "toast" and on the frequency of "Russian Radio" in Nizhny "102, 9 FM. Your friend Alexey Colonel will remain forever. Bye!

On the stage academic theater them. Gorky, Alexander Novikov appeared to enthusiastic applause from the audience. With a slight shade of sadness in his voice, he informed the assembled admirers that he had recently turned fifty. It is in his beloved Vladivostok that the tour of the country ends, dedicated to the anniversary which lasted several months. And, although in his heart he feels thirty, there is a reason to sum up some results.

“Thousands of times I was called a criminal bard in the press, although I was in charge of politics,” said Alexander Novikov. “But when I released an album called“ Notes of a Criminal Bard, ”a scandal began. I am convinced that I have every right to give this name to my album. I have suffered this right on the bunk. None of my albums contain songs that would propagandize crime, lawlessness. I sing the lyrics. It is cleaner than many "masterpieces" of pop, which are played on ORT. I wrote about this in an open letter to President Putin. "

And although the worm of doubt - isn't it PR - a message on the eve of the anniversary tour? - gnawed at the soul of the correspondent, the first question asked to the singer and composer was completely neutral.

Alexander Vasilyevich, giving an open letter to the president for publication, what kind of resonance did you expect?

Well, at least someone should loudly declare that television and the stage are drowning, excuse me, in the slops of vulgarity. I was supported by many respected, popular actors: Oleg Yankovsky called one of the first, Stas Sadalsky expressed his annoyance that this idea did not occur to him, although he also spits, looking at the TV screen. Anastasia Vertinskaya and Lydia Fedoseeva-Shukshina also supported me. There are mountains of letters in the editorial office. Everyone is annoyed, jarred. It's just that no one believes that this insane flow can be stopped or something can be changed for the better.

It's already gone - the Ministry of Culture was liquidated, Shvydkoy was removed!

So you put your hand into it ?!

It pleases me to think so. Counter question: do you disagree with something in my protest?

I do not consider myself a fan of our stage, and your indignation is really righteous. But in this "freak show" there are also talented performers. Really nobody arouses your sympathy?

After all, I evaluate such people not only from the vocal point of view. It is important for me that they managed to remain human, surviving in this system. Leva Leshchenko, Kolka Rastorguev, Shevchuk, Kobzon, well, five more. And that's all ...

Can you call your work alternative?

I work in a different genre, although I perform on the stage. Therefore, I do not pretend to participate in "Song of the Year", purchased ratings and other nonsense. I have my own listener. On this tour, which lasts almost three months with short breaks, there is not a single half-empty hall, there is a full house everywhere. (There was not enough room for everyone in the Gorky Theater, there were even side chairs. - Author's note.)

But it is difficult for an artist to be independent, feeding exclusively on creativity. Is your only livelihood source of income?

I have to do business, although I hate it fiercely. But, unfortunately, the time is so ...

And what kind of business is this?

Believe me, nothing interesting, however, and nothing criminal ...

My labor activity Alexander Novikov started in 1970 in Sverdlovsk as an auto mechanic, restoring cars damaged in accidents. Having mastered playing the guitar on his own, he got a job as a musician and singer in a restaurant. Having saved up a decent amount, he opened his own studio-workshop, where he not only recorded songs in the style of rock, but also made sound equipment for state Palaces of Culture and cinemas. At one time he was successfully engaged in production activities. The singer Natalya Shturm promoted by him (by the way, a student opera studio famous tenor Zurab Sotkilava!) was a very successful pop singer for some period. Today Alexander Novikov has lost interest in producing. Has its own concert studio. He writes new albums, tours the country, sometimes abroad. In Yekaterinburg, he has several companies related to the transportation of goods, a plant for the production of defibrer stones (grinding wood into powder, from which paper is then made), a chain of stores.

Living in the capital and doing business in the Urals - how do you manage to do everything?

I live in Yekaterinburg, but I just visit Moscow.

Is it anxious to leave your business unattended?

Believe me, I have a well-oiled relationship with the “sources of anxiety”. I have extensive experience in communicating with these people. The prison past is not in vain.

Alexander Novikov was arrested in the summer of 1984 right on the street - he was pushed into a car and taken to the local police department. The reason was the extraordinary popularity of the album of his “thieves” songs: “Bring me, cabman”, “I came from the Jewish quarter”, “Do you remember, girl?” ... Alexander was accused of humiliating national minorities, promoting immoralism, violence, prostitution, alcoholism and drug addiction. For a year he was in prison under investigation. But since it was inconvenient for the authorities to judge the person for the songs, he was accused of fraud and embezzlement on an especially large scale and was “soldered” for 10 years. Fearing the popularity of Novikov, he was constantly transferred from one prison to another. It was forbidden to move around the zone towards the club. They were deprived of visits from their relatives. They provoked fights with thugs. Then - an isolation ward as a punishment. He didn't adapt, he learned to survive.

Alexander Vasilyevich, have you ever been offended that your peers, singing your songs around the fire, discussing your bitter prison fate, did not unite and did not come out in their time in defense of your rights?

By the way, I owe my release to the students of the Ural Polytechnic Institute. At a meeting with Boris Yeltsin, a native of Sverdlovsk, then already the president of Russia, they asked him a question: why has our fellow countryman the singer Novikov been sitting for six years now? Yeltsin promised them to figure it out. Three months later I was released.

At a concert in Vladivostok, the hall was full of young people, married couples with children, quite presentable audience. The singer was given flowers, packages with gifts, and passed on notes. Tall, elegant, in a white suit, gleaming with a heavy ring, he was irresistible. On closer inspection, it really turned out that the piece of jewelry is studded with a large diamond and emeralds. Next to the thumb of the right hand is a small tattoo, the letter "M".

Erasing the past is not a trick. You still can't erase it from your soul, - commented on the questioning look of the correspondent Alexander Novikov.

REFERENCE "B"

Alexander Vasilievich Novikov was born in 1953 on the Kuril Islands in the family of a military pilot. He lived with his parents on Sakhalin, in the Baltics, Kyrgyzstan, then in Yekaterinburg (Sverdlovsk). Three times he entered to study at various universities, and was expelled from everywhere for his “obstinate disposition”. In 1975 he married fellow student Masha. Still in the same marriage. Has a son Igor, twenty-nine years old, a daughter Natasha, twenty-two years old.

From an open letter to the President of Russia

…Dear Vladimir Vladimirovich! If you haven't seen New Year show- lost a lot. And if they saw, they must have understood a lot. Personally, I realized the following. What a happiness I have had not to participate in this group bastardization of the great works "The Marriage of Figaro" and "Chasing Two Hares"! Do not jump in this TV-box, proudly called "Blue Light", in a herd of mummers, who do their best to portray joy on their faces and celebration in the studio.

... Today our country needs heroes more than ever. But in order for them to grow out of boys, the prototypes of these future heroes should already be on screens, in films, in books and in popular rumors today. Goat-bearded gurus, comb-headed bunnies, brothel-type prima donnas, Russophobic laughter, militant homosexuals and others like them who have no sex at all are not important role models. I deliberately did not indicate a single surname here, except for my own and yours. Why? Because they may not understand about you and me. And about them it is clear even without specifying those. And also forgive me my liberty to link two surnames - yours and mine. But I have at least two reasons for doing this: you, like me, did not participate in this show. And I, just like you, love Russia.

Sincerely - Alexander Novikov.

September

From any other festive event, a wedding, first of all, is distinguished by many traditions. Some of them have long been forgotten, others are remembered to this day. One of the main wedding rituals, which everyone probably knows about, is exchange of wedding rings.

This truly kind and light tradition originated many centuries ago, when the rings weaved from reed and presented to each other as a sign of loyalty. But that was not the main thing. After all, the ring has always been something more than just an item of material value. People believed in his special aura, considered him a symbol of a loved one and even considered as a talisman... So, a newborn child was bathed in water with a silver ring to ward off diseases. V Spain to this day, ailments are treated with water, where a wedding ring was previously held. In those distant times, representatives of different peoples viewed it with some degree of symbolism.
For Christians, it was an attribute of eternity and infinity. The Egyptians still call it a symbol of preserving love for life. The ancient Greeks believed that a finger on which a wedding ring was worn for a long time possesses healing properties ... By the way, the custom of putting this jewelry on the ring finger takes its history from the times ancient Romans who believed that inside him there is a so-called "vein of love" leading straight to the heart. Today, people no longer give them of particular importance what are they talking about a large number of divorces, and jewelers often meet young people who don't really need a wedding ring. They choose reliable and durable titanium for the sake of economy. This happens due to a lack of consciousness, because sometimes they create a family simply because they did this before them, while not investing much meaning in the promises they give each other. Meanwhile, the wedding ring is considered direct evidence that they are truly honest and real. Of course, there are those who sincerely believe in feelings and promises, dreaming to create with their chosen one happy family... Therefore, they are very responsible in choosing their most important joint decoration. If you are such a couple, jewelers advice will not be superfluous for you.
How to choose the right wedding ring, and what is most important, not to be mistaken?
To begin with, a young couple should decide what material their ring will be made of. It can be either gold or platinum.

Gold ring Platinum ring
Today, according to the master jeweler Alexandra Bezpalyuk, is very popular among customers gold 585 with different shades- pink, red, lemon, white. The latter, by the way, is the leader in sales.

Wedding ring in 14 kt white gold with diamond cut

But, Alexander Novikov, a person who in the post-Soviet space created the first collection of wedding rings, thinks differently. He thinks that White gold, which is fashionable today, is completely inappropriate in this adornment. Since such a metal does not exist in nature, it is just more cheap imitation platinum.
White gold was introduced by Italians in 1998 year. This metal is quite fragile, which is why it is not suitable for making such jewelry. Earrings, pendants, brooches made of this material are worn perfectly, since they do not carry a large technical load, but the wedding ring, which is a thing of everyday use, is constantly in contact with various subjects: keys, pens, cell phone, thanks to which the galvanized coating is quickly erased.
About platinum the jeweler responds very well, calling her the queen of metal.
Alexander assures that there is no alternative to it, since it is the most wear-resistant material. “Platinum wedding rings,” says the jeweler, “is the best that can be,” because if gold ring consists of half copper, then platinum, almost entirely of precious metals... In addition, her specific gravity much more gold, and given that platinum material is undervalued today, a good engagement ring can be purchase for 15-20 thousand rubles.
A special role in the wedding ring, in terms of quality, trial is playing the higher it is, the greater the specific gravity and the lower the likelihood of allergic reactions.
The specific gravity can be felt taking the ring in the palm of your hand... As you know, this product is weighty. A lightweight made of foil should be discarded, since it is short-lived. For example, a chain made of so-called "blown" gold will last a maximum of 3 years. The advantage of the ring in all respects is considered platinum 950

Platinum 950
Having dealt with the material from which your wedding ring will be made, you should pay attention on its shape, which is also important.
First of all, you need to remember that a ring is an everyday thing, so it should be not only elegant, but also as comfortable as possible. For this it is worth considering the size of the fingers. If they are wide, a ring with the edges rounded inward is perfect for you. To the owner thin fingers it is worth paying attention to the flat ring.
About the models of wedding rings, with an emphasis on originality, he said a few words and Alexander Bezpalyuk. He is sure that people in the choice of wedding jewelry strive for something newer, because they have long become boring with the usual shape of rings, and the human essence wants something more elegant that you will not find on the shelves and certainly will not see on someone else's. then on the finger. Therefore, they begin to search, fantasize, select the most exclusive options.
V last years often order more original rings of their kind, for example with soldered "puzzles"... So, in the summer, one of the couples in love opted for two wide smooth rings with a soldered bolt for the groom and a nut for the bride. Another jeweler told about this - Nelly Yankova.
Even wedding rings are ordered from jewelers. in the form of a film strip with frames. However, according to Alexander Novikov, this is not a manifestation of individuality, because normal people understand that there is nothing better than a classic ring, but exclusivity can be fully ensured engraving work which is very popular now. The engraving makes the piece personal, and the lettering can be very diverse, from memorable dates and the names of the spouses before catch phrases, wise thoughts... In addition, on it you can write a family motto or wishes... In fact, any worthy saying will only be a decoration of the ring.

Many brides are partial to diamonds, however Alexander strongly recommends don't use them in a wedding ring, primarily because it is a ceremonial weekend, evening stones, which, for example, the English queen will not allow herself to wear after 5 pm. They are welcome in engagement rings, differing from wedding bands in greater sophistication and elegance. As a rule, several stones can be present in them, it is better if it is a diamond and amethyst. However, their number depends on how highly a man values ​​his chosen one.

Wedding ring engagement ring
By the way, amethis t is a stone that has the magical property of protecting the donor from wrong thoughts on the part of the gifted, both in love affairs and in commercial matters. The ring with this stone gave more Jesus to the Virgin Mary... Today, it is kept in one of the Italian churches. Amethyst is called a widow's stone. Its name is not accidental, because it appeared back in the days Patriotic War 1812, when many women lost their husbands as widows. So, by decorating with this stone, the young lady, coming out into the world, made it clear to society that she was not flirting, but is faithful your lost soul mate. Alexander Novikov told the story of the stone.
Young wives also shared their advice on the choice of wedding rings.
So, Julia Maisel approached this issue with a great deal of responsibility, because the girl was a pianist in the past, so it was difficult to pick up something on her long and thin fingers.
At first, the young people looked through many catalogs, and then decided to visit several exhibitions. They liked the stand of the Family Jewels store, where they were quick to turn. They chose a very original model of wedding rings, consisting of three types of gold - white, yellow and red, symbolizing the eternity of love. The engraving was not done, despite the fact that it came as a gift from the store. After all, according to the girl, “it is impossible to express in one phrase, even in Latin, the boundlessness of our love, and engraving the date is somehow stupid - we will not forget it anyway”.

Olga Ustyuzhanina I also chose my ring for a long time. She and her husband toured a bunch of shops, looked through many catalogs. Young people wanted to buy rings that were unusual, but the same, so that it was immediately clear who they were to each other. As a result, we opted for rings and from white gold without stones. This is how they look:

Lina Rakhlina I chose a white gold wedding ring with five small diamonds, because she is not indifferent to these stones, and also considers them a symbol of the purity of relationships. Lina's husband opted for a ring without stones, because he believes that they are only for girls. The young couple did not have time to do the engraving, but in the near future they want to sign the rings with their own names.
Wedding ring Svetlana Livitskaya almost completely corresponds to the recommendations of Alexander Novikov, it is simple and smooth, made of gold. The girl turned her attention to him two years ago, when her friend, who was studying, jewelry business, made a ring for his friend. After a while, Svetlana also had a similar ring.

Katarina Luzhaeva from Moscow got into a very unpleasant situation. The girl bought a white gold wedding ring with a diamond, which turned out to be worn. According to the girl, this was determined by a very famous jeweler.
By the way, not only customers but also jewelers find themselves in various incidental situations. First story from Alexander Bezpalyuk.
The jewelry workshop where he works is located in Zhitomir, and since the bulk of orders come from Kiev, the jeweler is forced to make frequent business trips. Once, a specialist had a chance to communicate with customers who did not really understand what they wanted. First, they discussed this or that model, placed an order, and then returned the master halfway with a request to consider a completely different one. So happened about 5 times. When the rings, which the doubting couple liked, were finally made, they were in honeymoon trip, managed to lose one of them. Naturally, the procedure for making rings was repeated once again.
Alexander talks about amazing people who come to a jewelry salon, find out the price, ask why it is so cheap, while making big round eyes, then go to the store and, overpaying at least three times, buy themselves rings. They argue that we have suspiciously cheap gold, not realizing that the price of rent, the seller's salary, and the salary of the department owner are included in the stores.
Have Alexandra Novikova there are also several amazing stories in store, although they are filled with less positive. Once, he was making an engagement ring for one of the brides. After a while from it through the fault of the girl dropped a diamond. Naturally, she turned to the jewelry workshop with a complaint, but her reaction was completely inadequate. She decided that if a pebble fell out of her favorite wedding ring, then she would no longer have a life with this person.
There is another story as well. It is associated with a frivolous attitude towards the choice of a wedding ring. The day before the wedding, a young man comes running to the salon, chooses a ring, the size does not fit. They start to increase it, it breaks, and young man nothing else remains but to go to the registry office with a broken ring.

For each couple, the wedding ring symbolizes something of their own, someone understands that it is for life, and therefore treats his choice responsibly, and someone is more windy, believing that nothing depends on him at all. But, as the practice of jewelers shows, it really depends.
After all, an engagement ring is not just a piece of jewelry, but connection of two hearts in love. In fact, what is a stamp in a passport is just a formality, but for real, light, sincere love this is not enough.
Your ring can be the most ordinary one - without engraving, diamonds or other stones. But when choosing it, it is very important to answer the question: "What do I mean by the concept of" wedding ring "?" Perhaps it is a reason for creating a family (although rather, this definition is more related to an engagement ring); a symbol of a loved one, or another decoration. Everyone must understand this for himself ...

Anna Kondratyeva

Giving a man a fashionable gift means making him stylish and happy. The site http://www.wildberries.ru/catalog/1027/women.aspx will help you choose the perfect gift for New Year for your man.

Current page: 13 (total of the book has 19 pages) [available passage for reading: 13 pages]

Chapter 14
Arrest

Morning October 5, 1984. Not autumnal clear and sunny. I get up early. I'm going to my school friend Sasha Davydov's right to his work - to the construction and assembly office. Sashka is the head of the department. My house is renovated. There are no building materials in stores - only by pull, from the back porch. But - honest. If there is no blat - from the construction site. But - stolen. Written off, like a marriage, dried up, shaken down and left over from re-grading.

Whom it is more convenient and accessible. Off the counter - bad, but cheap. Reverse - good, but expensive. From a construction site or a building management warehouse - good and cheap.

Davydov advised the latter.

At 8 am I have it.

- What do you need? There is everything.

- All you need.

They are sending for the storekeeper, Aunt Klava. We sit, drink tea, discuss the scale of the renovation, the possibilities of the construction office and, of course, the idiocy of world socialist construction, the communist system, in which everything is done through the reverse gear. And therefore - no remorse. We are like everyone else.

An aunt enters in a men's quilted jacket, wadded trousers, with a huge bunch of keys on an iron ring. The head will easily crawl through the ring.

- What was your name, Alexander Vladimirovich?

- Call me. Here, here, it is necessary to resolve the person with building materials, - Davydov, turning to me, begins.

- It's clear. What? How many? How will you take it out? For what?

- I'll explain it later. Now go choose.

- It's clear. I'm waiting in my warehouse.

“In about five minutes,” Sashka holds me back.

- Money to whom? Her?

- What are you! To the head of the site.

“I don’t know him.

- Do you know me? What else do you need? Go first, choose. She will count everything, say. I will cut something, write something off. Then together - to him.

Not everything was in the "warehouse". But there was.

The chosen one together with Aunt Klava was dragged into a corner. Half an hour of dusty work - and the issue with my repair is half resolved. Goodbye until tomorrow. Tomorrow - calculation and pickup. I'm going to my new Volga, which I bought two weeks ago. happy occasion in Izhevsk. The uncle of my friend from Izhevsk Tolya, a tall nomenklatura figure, refused the dedicated "Volga" - a van, because he wanted an ordinary one. True, not entirely, but in favor of the nephew. The van cost eighteen thousand rubles. Tolya had no money for the ransom. At the bazaar, this cost thirty thousand dollars, and he really wanted to get the difference. He called at night, believing that at this time the phones were not tapped. I was mistaken. "Take me, cab" was already shouting all over the country, and my phone was tapped all day and night. I found out about this a little later. We agreed on twenty-two. We fly to Izhevsk with Sergey Bogdashov. At the trading base, in the backyard, there is a brand new, sky-colored beauty. Let's go back around her three of us, waiting for the keys. We open - a fairy tale! Today's 600th Mercedes is nothing compared to the Volga, a van at the time. They were sold to private hands only special people, by special orders. In Sverdlovsk, there were only two of them in private hands.

You cannot issue me directly. Issued for Tolinoi friend. Half a day - for a power of attorney, four days - for washing, and now Bogdashov and I are going home through Ufa, satisfied and joyful. We live in Ufa for a couple of days, wandering about our hardware business. Suddenly we notice the surveillance, but we convince ourselves that they are not watching us, but those with whom we meet. The surveillance is dense, intrusive and absolutely mediocre. So mediocre and overt that it seems as if this is being done by our Bashkir competitors in the production of similar equipment for the purpose of intimidation - so that we would quickly retreat. We were deeply mistaken: they were watching us, albeit idiotically, but people from the organs.

We leave Ufa late at night with a chase. No sooner had we left the house of Andrei Berezovsky, where we were staying, a six "Zhiguli" sits on its tail. Soon it is replaced by another. We leave at maximum speeds, diving into alleys and gateways along the river, by country, long-known paths, we jump out onto the track far beyond the traffic police post.

The tail is gone. Are gone. They decided that they were from Ufa, that they did not need us anymore and they would not chase us along the highway to Sverdlovsk. After a hundred kilometers, the frantic race stopped. Phew ... carried over.

We were at home by noon. Here we were greeted with the same round-the-clock surveillance and wiretapping. Following the car is the "tail". I drove for two weeks, not believing that this one was after me. He was even more intrusive and ubiquitous. But the tail - the tail, and the repairs - on schedule.

I leave Aunt Klava, smiling, with a sense of accomplishment, forgetting about his constant presence.

I insert the key into the lock, open the door. It smells like a new car, fresh leather, the radio is on. Pleasant female voice announcer: "Moscow time seven hours five minutes ..."

From where they jumped out, I did not notice. There are two hanging from his arms. The third one pokes a red crust in my face: “OBKhSS of the Sverdlovsk region! Captain Raldugin. Come with us. "

A white Volga flies into the courtyard backwards, the exit is blocked by another - a black one. Dragged into white, in the back seat. They grabbed his hands to death. They sit on the sides, not letting go. Raldugin - forward to the right. Operas in civilian clothes are jumping behind the wheel of my car. Black takes off. Next is the white one in which I am packed. My van is at the end of the column. Everything in exactly thirty seconds. Raldugin turns and chuckles sarcastically:

- Repair in the apartment, I think, will be done without you, Alexander Vasilyevich.

We are racing fast. They don't let go of their hands. On the left - with a crooked nose, a small one, wrapped around my arm, clasping his own with a lock.

- Why are you holding it like that? I'm not going to run or kill anyone. Can I smoke?

- Come and get high.

We fly into the gates of the regional administration. Above the gate is a sign with the address: "Lenin, 17".

Dragged out of the car, surrounded. They lead in the ring up to the second floor. They are incredibly happy. Locked in some kind of government office.

An hour passes. They unlock it, lead to the office opposite. There are operas and two student trainees from the law school. Oper, grinning:

- Here, citizen Novikov, meet: girls - future employees of the court and prosecutor's office, in our practice. They will search you.

Turning to the girls, he adds:

- Search, as expected, as taught. Draw up a protocol according to the form.

Immediately disappears through the door.

- Undress, - the first girl says in an absolutely indifferent tone, - undress ... Take off your cloak.

I feel myself not being searched, not in the police, but in a brothel.

The second, pretty, sitting at the table, smiles mysteriously.

The cloak is jammed. Climb under the shoe insoles. Everything is turned inside out. Hands up. The first one feels from armpits to ankles. Commands to turn around. The second gets up, feels from the throat to the abdomen. Then he skips, giggling. Then along the trousers, along the knees, to the floor.

- Now undress completely.

- At all?

- Down to underwear.

We felt it. They got it. They sit down for the protocol.

- Get dressed.

Laughing as I pull on my pants.

- Is it possible to search one more time, more thoroughly?

- You can ... In a few years, ha-ha! - the girls are sprinkling.

- In the evening, they will search the IVS, very carefully, - a visitor to the opera adds to the tone and disappears, throwing: "Under your control."

I sign the protocol.

- Can I pick up the cigarettes?

I light a cigarette. The interns are writing something. We are silent. They are waiting for someone to come for me.

- Is the toilet also accompanied by you?

- Exceptionally. Will you go now?

We go along the corridor. We reach the door with the "T" sign.

- Here. Do not close the door to the cab.

- Will you watch?

- Such work.

- Well, work.

Standing right behind my back, I feel the look. Listens to the murmur. After that, he stopped perceiving her as a woman. Is the second, which is prettier, the same "dressing-girl"? Hmmm, if the ladies are like that, then what kind of men are there?

- Everyone went.

I smoke another cigarette. Opera comes.

Locked in the office opposite again.

Minutes drag on. I listen to footsteps and snatches of conversation outside the door. There is no fear, no anxiety, no regret in my soul. Absolute calmness and confidence that this is for a long time. Then, in the future, it helped. It is the confidence that there is no way out. It took a long time to prepare the mousetrap, and then it slammed shut. It is useless to ask for help from the will, no connections will help - the fate is decided. The only hope is for oneself and for the powers of heaven. That makes it so calm. Only for the children, for the family and for the sick mother is worried. Everything else - as before the execution after the command: "Aim! .."

Finally, a key is thrust into the door, and a man in uniform grows up on the threshold.

- Come on, Novikov.

We go along the corridors, stairs to the other end of the building. An empty office again. Well furnished this time. I sit and wait. The colonel enters, accompanied by some junior rank. Friendly, smiling and likable. Sits down opposite.

- Leave us, we'll talk.

The escort is hiding behind the door. We look at each other with curiosity and a half-smile.

- Well hello, Alexander Novikov.

- Hello, I don’t know about you? ..

- No matter. Consider that I am not from this department.

- From the KGB?

- Hmm ... Consider that it does not matter.

- Can I smoke?

- Smoke. Would you like some tea? With lemon? They'll bring it in now.

I drag on and silently wait for the conversation to begin.

A man in civilian clothes enters.

- Ask, let them bring tea. With lemon.

I remember this conversation very well.

- Hmmm ... You hit hard, to be honest. Do you know for what?

- I guess. Most likely for the songs. They don't grab the equipment so much and don't bring it here - the regional department would be enough.

- You understand correctly. But they will be judged for the equipment. You can speak frankly with me - I am not from this department and it is unlikely that we will see each other in the next ten years. I looked at some papers here, got acquainted, so to speak ... This is not our competence. OBKHSS will deal with you.

Tea was brought in. He took a few sips, silently awaiting my answer.

- I don’t understand what was seditious in the songs? The whole country is listening, so it needs it.

- Do you want to be honest, as a man - to a man? Not as an arrested person, but as a casual neighbor in a compartment?

- Personally, I really like your songs. Highly. And I have all these tapes, but ...

After the word "but" he raised to the ceiling forefinger, and then the eyes. - You yourself understand ...

- Understand.

- I give you my word that when you go out, I will return them to you. Even if they destroy the whole country, you will have it.

- And again with them in jail, hehe? .. - I try to joke.

- By that time, I think a lot will have changed. Until then ... I will be frank with you as I promised: you will get ten years.

- Yes. Ten years. The issue has been resolved.

He again, looking into my eyes, jabbed his finger at the ceiling, not lifting his elbow from the table.

- You have no choice. So hold on with dignity.

- Everything that I said is for you and me, not for the record. Goodbye, Alexander.

He went out quietly. And I - held on.

In the office of Captain Raldugin, this skill was needed within a few minutes. They put me at the edge of the table, presented a weighty and wild document called "Expertise on the songs of A. Novikov." Dated October 3rd. Fresh - concocted only the day before yesterday. Written in the spirit of the 37th year, in an insulting and libelous tone and representing the following. The text of the song. Further - a review of it. Then the next song. Review again. And so on all eighteen songs of the album "Take me, cab". The "document" is thoroughly saturated with anger and hatred towards the author, and therefore there is nothing to compare with. I am accused of all sins known to the white world.

"... The songs of A. Novikov propagandize amoralism, vulgarity, violence ... drug addiction, prostitution, mockery of national minorities, alcoholism ... thieves' traditions ... mockery of the socialist system ... undermining the foundations of ideological and communist education ..." And so on, so on.

I haven’t seen such idiocy in official documents, so I laugh, I can’t restrain myself. Raldugin silently walks in circles, lighting one cigarette from another. Prints out the Rodopi block. With a sweeping gesture, he puts the pack in front of me.

- Smoke, Alexander Vasilyevich, I treat you ... You will laugh later.

I read to the end. Despite the text teeming with spelling, stylistic and other errors, its meaning is quite clear. However, as well as the appointment. On last sheet four signatures. Komsomol activist Viktor Olyunin. Member of the Union of Writers of the USSR Vadim Ocheretin. Composer Evgeny Rodygin. And some other cultural party mug, I don't remember the last name.

Of the signers, only E. Rodygin is familiar. This drunkard with an accordion was brought to our school several times. Straight to the classroom, before some revolutionary holidays. The creature, breathing fumes and splashing saliva to the last desk, sang very loudly to its own accompaniment, its own compositions. "Oh, curly mountain ash", "New settlers are going on the virgin land ..." At the end of the concert was "E-ge-gay, hali-gali ...". Already under the undisguised neighing of the whole class. True, this did not bother the performer. In addition, a story went around the city about how, once, having drunk half to death and falling asleep at the wheel, this same Rodygin, breaking through the fence, flew off the bridge and fell into a coal railway platform of a freight train passing below. He left for distant lands and was caught almost in another area. I don’t know how in art, but he certainly left his mark on the earth - since that time the bridge has been called “Rodyginsky”. And besides everything, the speaker had a long-term nickname "Alkodrygin" among the schoolchildren.

V the said document he was listed as "the main expert" - that was clear from the spelling and "evidence." I was especially captivated by the final part of his heartbreaking review: "... The author of the above songs needs, if not psychiatric, then prison isolation for sure." Neither add nor subtract.

- Well, I read how about you creative people write?

Raldugin takes a drag, rolls his eyes and adds with a sly grin:

- But this is so, nonsense. Of course, we are interested in songs, but not enough. For this article up to three years. They are in quality, so to speak, characteristics, hehe. We, Alexander Vasilievich, are interested in ap-pa-ra-round. We will talk about it for a long time.

- Ask questions.

Raldugin's eyes are dark, angry. A malevolent smile. Speech is deliberately calm and unhurried. We speak without protocol. About family, about music, about cars, God knows what. He's waiting for something. Every minute I am convinced that I am dealing with an experienced and terry scoundrel.

The door opens with a bang, a plump colonel rushes in. Raldugin jumps up.

- Stand up! - The Colonel with a face filled with blood hangs over me. I continue to sit.

- Get up, get up ... - Raldugin advises helping the words with his palm.

Everything inside me exploded. To crack this mug now. It is forbidden…

- I'm not under arrest. And I don’t serve in your department.

- Ah, that's it ... Har-r-rosh! .. Har-r-rosh, son of a bitch!

Colonel - Head of the Investigative Department of the Region. Very similar to the angry toad. Surname - Semenov. Turns to the owner of the office:

- Decorate as expected. And talk ... as it should be.

Jumps out, slamming the door loudly.

“You have no way out. Hold on with dignity ... ".

At this, the preliminary processing was considered complete. Raldugin takes a sheet of paper, fills it out with my data.

The interrogation began. The essence of the questions: where, where, to whom and for how much did you sell the equipment? How, with whom and from what did you make it?

The essence of the answers: you never know who, you never know from what - all the parts were bought in " Young technician". Did one. I am responsible for everything alone.

Evil eyes nod: the protocol will endure everything.

After interrogation - to an empty office under constipation. They bring a bag of household items, cigarettes, slippers and other belongings. It means that the wife has already been informed. How naive it was then to think - "reported." They have already been searched. They tore off the baseboards, tore off the wallpaper, beat off the tiles in order to crawl under the bath. Raked out all the cassettes and records. They raked out poems, notebooks, photographs, even school diaries. Anything that has even a word written in my hand. They dragged away the TV, the turntable. Even two identical mohair scarves from a hanger are important physical evidence of an "attempt at speculation." This "attempt" on the basis of two unfortunate scarves will prove to me throughout the investigation - a Soviet person should not have two identical ones. In a word, they raked out the apartment almost to the bare walls.

I will find out all this later. In the meantime, with tears in my eyes, I dismantle the bag - what it was like for Masha to collect it. Judging by its contents, she already knows that I am here for a long time. So, in the evening - in the IVS. In a temporary detention center. The old way - in the bullpen.

Until late in the evening I sit in a familiar empty office. Steps outside the doors are less and less frequent. There is a resounding silence. I'm waiting for the convoy. Surprisingly, instead of him, Raldugin himself appears with a crooked-nosed opera, a morning acquaintance. His name is Captain Shisterov. We get down under the arms into the yard, again to the same white "Volga".

- Why such an honor, Vladimir Stepanovich? - I ask Raldugin.

- You are a well-known person, famous, I cannot trust you to anyone. I would like to personally arrange for a new place of residence.

We are going in the same order. Raldugin - in front, I - behind, arm in arm with bowed nose. He grabbed and holds so - any boa constrictor will envy. Outside the window is the central street. Showcase lights, people, cars ...

Autumn. As it turns out, these yellowed trees, these leaves trampled on the asphalt are beautiful. How I want to go out, even on the move, this autumn. It's not scary to crash - it's scary not to see it for a long time. It's scary to meet Masha on the way. Or Igor and Natasha. But they are still small - they are unlikely to meet in the evening.

The car flies into a fenced-in courtyard and stops right outside the door of a gray building.

- Well, here we are. You will live here for now, Alexander Vasilyevich, - Raldugin announces the end of the trip.

They are brought under the arms inside. The procedure is usual for everyone: first to the duty room, then to the shmon. After all the paper-protocol procedures - into the camera.

“I’ll come to pick you up in person tomorrow morning,” he says goodbye. His partner wrinkles his crooked nose at the prison smell, snorts disgustedly, and both hurriedly leave.

The prison smell - a mixture of dichlorvos, makhorka smoke, bucket, damp mold and God knows what else - is the first to announce that you are already in prison. Not a duty officer, not a convoy, not shackles. There is a smell above everything. He is like poison. I breathed it in and felt differently. Everything that comes next will go by itself.

They were assigned to cell No. 2. On the second floor at the very end of the corridor. Accompanied by a smiling cop - a foreman of pre-retirement age, smelling like a prison through and through and forever.

- You can't sing songs here, you have to sit quietly here. You can shout if you call the attendant. The rest is only in writing. He-he-he ...

The hallway is long, dirty and smelly. In places along the dirty blue walls, carts, cisterns with gruel, with huge ladles sticking out of them, and mountains of aluminum bowls. Each thing here has its own name. The bowl is a "slum". The tank is a "navy". The scoop is a "scoundrel". The corridor attendant is "popkar". The rest is even easier. The camera is a "hut". Bag of things - "sidor".

Open the camera. I come in. The door slams shut with a bang and clang. There are no bunks, no "shkonars". Right in two meters in front of me there is an elevation, something like a plank meter stage. No different from home flooring. A guy is lying right on the bare boards, with a quilted jacket under his head. At the sight of me, he jumps up, sleepily tearing his eyes.

- Great, - I greet the inhabitant and throw the bag on the boards.

- Great ... Do you have smoke?

- Thank God. And then already the ears are swollen.

I take out cigarettes. We sit down under a lattice window, leaning back against the wall, get to know each other. His name is Alexander Permyakov. In appearance - the same age. The reason for staying is currency transactions and some kind of theft. We speak, we find mutual language and even mutual acquaintances.

The "feeding trough" opens - the gruel has arrived. The face poking into the embrasure asks:

- Will you eat? Take the rations.

A hand appears next with a half loaf of bread. The cellmate jumps up, takes it. Behind her is another one. Two "shlumaks" with porridge, two with warm, rusty-looking water, called "tea". The trough slams shut with a cannon rumble. This is instead - "Bon appetit".

We have not slept for a long time. The cellmate is talkative and with a pretty strange biography... He was brought here a few days ago from a pre-trial detention center - SIZO No. 1, that is, from a prison. Why, he doesn't know. Most likely, some new circumstances emerged from the criminal case. There he spent three months in cell no. 38 at a special post. According to his description, this is the third floor of a separate building inside the prison. Especially important persons under investigation are kept there. The cells are small - two or four people. Almost every one has a decoy duck. They keep those who are unconscious, who are under the special control of the regional administration or in operational development. In a word, there are very difficult passengers. Together with him, only one person, very famous in the city, sat in a double. His surname is Ternyak.

- Ternyak? - I ask again, - Victor Nakhimovich? The head waiter from the "Ural dumplings"?

- Yes sir. You worked as a musician in a restaurant, you should know him.

- I know of course. I worked at "Dumplings".

- What are you? This is a coincidence.

- Where is he now?

- Yes, and sits there. They took me away, he was left alone. Surely someone has already hooked him up. Or maybe he was hooked up himself - the guy is rather slippery.

Permyakov describes in detail Ternyak himself, his life in a cell, habits, speech, as if he is afraid that I will not believe him.

Speaks and speaks. I lie on my back, hands behind my head, remembering the whole past day and looking around my new home. Recently there was a major overhaul - it is clean, it smells slightly of paint. Aside from the wrought-iron door and bars, it might well be mistaken for a room in a renovated dormitory. When they were driving here, I glanced in some kind of open chamber. Compared to this - quiet horror... It seems that ours is also a small special post. It may well be Captain Raldugin's personal casemate. I express this idea out loud to my cellmate. Permyakov jumps up.

- Raldugin? Yes, he was my interrogator! And the investigator is Onishchenko. Ternyak had both of them too.

What a coincidence, I think to myself. Although that does not happen in prison.

- Let's sleep. Are there many bedbugs? - I wonder, folding the bag under my head.

- There is. But bearable. In other huts it is teeming, but this one is special. This one is not for mere mortals.

I'm trying to sleep. The neighbor snores, as if not in the cell, but at the dacha. My sleep is disturbing, intermittent, and surprisingly colored.

At six in the morning, a loudspeaker built into the niche above the door shouts - the Anthem of the Soviet Union. Then - industrial gymnastics. Doors bang down the corridor - morning check. Ours opens. On the threshold there is an officer with a magazine, behind him, black-eyed, very nice girl, also in shape. The verification procedure is simple: they shout out the last name, jump up from the bunk, call loudly and clearly the name, patronymic, year of birth, article. If there is no article - registration.

- Permyakov!

- Alexander Yurievich, 1959, 88th, part two ...

The neighbor does not jump up, only raises his head, showing indifference to the established routines with his whole appearance. At this moment I already stand in front of the examiner and, looking behind his back, meet her gaze. Eyes to eyes. They are beautiful and very disturbing. We watch for a long time, without stopping. Suddenly, barely perceptibly, she shakes her head - with such a gesture people silently say - "no." Shoots a glance towards Permyakov. Then again - into me. Turns away sharply and walks away.

- Novikov!

- Alexander Vasilievich. 1953 ... No article.

- Will be, what are your years.

The door slams shut, but her eyes are still hanging in the air. Becomes inexplicably unsettling. Further - everything is as usual. The rumble of bowls, half a loaf of bread and an hour later - Raldugin with Shisterov himself, are waiting downstairs. They are led to them, accompanied by a new bellhop. Raldugin is cheerful and even more caustic:

- How did you sleep, Alexander Vasilievich, hehe? ..

“Not bad for a place like this. You could even say - excellent.

- Me too. I slept for the first time in the last two weeks. Can you guess why?

- I guess.

- Aren't you bored in the cell? Be patient, soon you will have a big company.

Again the same white Volga, the same route at the same address.

The interrogation today is long, rubbery, with a claim to cross, and with the participation of one more character. Surprisingly, the good and evil investigator is not played. Both are kind. They do not shout, do not knock with their feet, do not threaten. They just keep hearing the same questions one by one. Raldugin advises with all his might to write a confession. The assistant cites sentimental examples of sentence cancellation and early release to everyone who listened to them. Mixed with the horrors of fifteen-year terms, up to the execution for those who persisted, for which they received it to the fullest.

At the end of the day, they promise to be charged under Article 193 of the RSFSR Criminal Code - antisocial activity. She is up to three years old. In order not to have time to rejoice, next they threaten the 93rd, which automatically, according to the amount of the allegedly committed theft from the state, goes into the 93rd approx. And this one is already to the highest degree.

- Your article, citizen Novikov, will be there - before the execution, so there is something to think about.

Raldugin slams the folder with the interrogation protocol shut. For the first time he applies - "citizen". This means that they will have no problems with an arrest warrant. Hence, in soon will be taken to a pre-trial detention center.

- Until tomorrow, - both say goodbye to me.

- Here again?

- While here. We still have a lot to talk about.

- Spend the night there?

- Same way. This is now your personal camera. How is it, by the way? They say just after renovation? Everything for you, everything for you, citizen Novikov, hehe! ..

Convoy enters. The handcuffs snap into place. Back this time not on the "Volga" - already on the "funnel".

The same Permyakov is in the cell.

- Well, tell me what happened today? The lawyer came to me again.

I tell about the events of the day in detail, but not all.

The morning checker does not leave my head. What did she want to say? What? Why did she look so persistently and anxiously? Permyakov ... Is this really a chihar? Is it really a decoy? Why isn't anyone else being brought into the cell? The same interrogators ... Is it an accident - such a circle of mutual acquaintances?

Without giving a sign, I begin to look closely. I'm waiting for tomorrow's check - maybe something else from beautiful eyes find out? If only she came.

This morning was no different from yesterday's, except that there was only one inspector. There was no dark-eyed. And I never saw her again.

Permyakov was getting ready to see a lawyer. These meetings, in his words, took place in a specially equipped office with a bolted chair and a bare government table.

- I can pass the malyav through him. A reliable person, he will take it to the address.

- So far there is nothing to write about.

- There is nothing to hide.

At the bottom they meet the same ones. During interrogation, Raldugin insists that my fellow man, Sergei Bogdashov, has already confessed to everything. And that all the buyers, whom they managed to interview, unanimously repeat that I deceived them - selling my homemade equipment, I passed it off as branded. Raldugin was lying. Bogdashov left from under their very noses, and despite the total and round-the-clock surveillance of his house and family, they could not find him.

I didn’t know that he was on the run. But he was sure that even if they took him, he would not tell anything. Rather, only that from which a criminal case will not work. Subsequently, when everything fell into place and we were able to meet, the process of this very surveillance drew a very amusing picture.

Even before our arrival on the new "Volga" from Izhevsk, my neighbors in staircase an ambush was set up. They looked through the peephole around the clock. Everyone who came or rang the doorbell was photographed. In the courtyard behind the garbage dump, changing each other, cars were on duty - from this point, the entrance door can be seen especially well. The lights are out, the windows are up. Our common comrade Sergei Kislov is behind day and night. He into the tram - they follow. He goes to the store - they are behind the queue at the checkout.

One friend told me in a terrible secret that people were sitting on the telephone switchboard near the Sverdlovsk hotel all day and night and listening to my phone and the phones of someone else of my acquaintances. She is still talking about it more secret said the head of the site. The same is done at the central intercity station. I ask: is it possible to look at them? Answers: it is possible, but only so as not to notice. Together with her I come to the telephone exchange. We sneak from the back, quietly, on tiptoe.

- Here they are ... - a friend whispers.

Backs to us - two types. Listen and record on a tape recorder. Turn around, see me. Silent scene - the guys just went crazy.

In the evening, Sergei Kiselev called "Kisel" from Ufa. He says he is being watched. I answer that we have the same thing, and hang up. Instantly - a call. Short male voice: “Sorry, it's from the telephone exchange that they are bothering you. What number did they call you from? "

I answer: “Do you hear, you, telephone operator, are your contacts rusty? Is it listening badly? .. "

They hung up. It didn't happen again.

Lehoy Khomenko also has a tail. Lekha - keyboard player, participant in the recording of "Cabby". I made an appointment with my old friend Vanya Fleck, with whom I played in the same ensemble for many years. Vanya comes from repatriated Germans - he left to live in Germany a few years ago. In those days he was in Sochi on some business. There we agreed to meet and hand over the cassette with the "Cab". The Ralduginians from somewhere got wind of this and put Khomenko under surveillance. Lead her day and night. Finally the day of departure came. Lech goes home to collect things. Followed by several spies. They see him off to the entrance, wait on a bench opposite to take with things, with a cassette, and maybe something else. They sit for an hour, sit for two. Lech lives on the first floor. Half of the windows face the courtyard, the other half to the opposite side. He goes there through the window with a suitcase. The capture group is all sitting. By nightfall, it became clear that there was no one to wait. A day later, a cassette with the original recording was in Fleck's hands. And after a while, the songs are played on the Deutsche Welle radio station with appropriate comments. But I found out about this much later.

Raldugin continues to take on the gun. He smokes incessantly and walks in circles. At lunchtime they take me to an empty office. They bring gruel, porridge - all according to the schedule and diet.

The task force flashes before our eyes. They enter, whisper quietly, leave. Raldugin is noticeably nervous: something is not working out.

In the evening, Permyakov excitedly talks about the meeting with a lawyer - everything goes to the fact that he will be released on receipt.

- And in vain you did not write a malyav - you would have passed it on without problems.

- And if they do it?

“They don’t haunt lawyers here. This is in the SIZO - they can.

- And if you get snatched up?

- Am I sitting for the first day, I don’t know how to hide?

- They have not been here for the first day either.

Attention! This is an introductory excerpt from the book.

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