“Perfectly. And another thing: both had real estate issues shortly before their deaths. Re-registrations, sales at undervalued prices, strange deals.”
“A pattern.”
“Yes. He works according to a pattern. And Zhanna is part of this pattern. Possibly a key part.”
Stepan thought for a moment.
“We can put pressure on her.”
“We can try. But if she warns Artem…”
“Then we need to make sure she can’t warn him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come over. We’ll discuss it.”
Stepan hung up and turned to his family.
“There’s news. We’ve found his accomplice. And a connection to other victims.”
“Does that mean he can be arrested?” Daria asked hopefully.
“Not yet. But we’re close. Very close.”
Saveliev arrived an hour later. They locked themselves in Stepan’s study and laid out everything they had gathered on the table.
“Three confirmed murders,” Saveliev said, pointing at the photographs. “Kira Melnikova, Olga Savchenko, Svetlana Gritsenko. The same MO in all cases: they meet, a whirlwind romance, plans for a life together. Then the transfer of property. Then an accident.”
“He didn’t marry them officially?”
“No. That’s his trick. A common-law marriage doesn’t require a divorce. Less paperwork, fewer traces.”
“Why was Daria an exception? Why the official wedding?”
Saveliev paused.
“I think it’s because of the house. Your house, Stepa. It’s worth too much. To get the rights to it, he needs official family ties. Inheritance, joint property. He didn’t just want Dasha’s apartment. He wanted everything.”
“Yes. You’re richer than you think. A plot in an elite neighborhood, 200 square meters of living space, plus your daughter’s apartment, plus, possibly, some savings.”
“There are savings. We’ve been putting money aside for our old age.”
“There you go. For him, it’s a jackpot. Worth the risk of an official marriage.”
Stepan looked at the photos of the deceased women. Young, beautiful, smiling. They didn’t know that the man they loved would kill them.
“What about Zhanna?” he asked.
“I’ll pay her a visit tomorrow morning. Unofficially. Have a talk.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Stepa…”
“It’s not up for discussion. I have to be there.”
Saveliev sighed.
“Alright. But you just listen. No action.”
“Deal.”
When Saveliev left, Stepan went down to the living room. Nadezhda and Daria were sitting on the couch, huddled together.
“Dad,” Daria said, “I want to know everything. Don’t hide anything from me.”
Stepan sat in the armchair opposite them.
“Three women. At least three. All died under similar circumstances. All were in a relationship with a man who looked like Artem. All had real estate problems before they died.”
Daria listened in silence. Her face was pale but calm.
“Tomorrow we’ll try to talk to his accomplice. Zhanna. If she talks, we’ll have evidence. And if she doesn’t… then we’ll think of something else.”
Daria stood up and walked to the window.
“Dad,” she said without turning around, “when did all this start? When did he decide I would be his next victim?”
“I don’t know. Maybe from the first time you met. Maybe later.”
“We met at an exhibition. I was showing my work then. Remember? I told you about it. He came up, started praising my paintings. Said he’d never seen anything like it. That I had talent, that I should develop it, that he was ready to help.” She paused. “I was so happy. A handsome, successful man—and he was interested in me. Not just as a woman, but as an artist. He said he believed in me, that I was special.” Her voice trembled. “But in reality, he was just choosing a victim. He looked at me and thought: how much is she worth? How much can I get from her?”
“Dashenka…”
