The Burden of Accusation

It was the end of August—when warm clear days came to Pomorsk, and the local climate rarely pampered anyone. At half past five in the evening, a young, well-dressed, attractive woman entered the apartment building where the Pomorsk trading port dispatcher, Vasily Podpasсkov, lived.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, a taxi pulled up to the building. The impatient passenger opened the car door while it was still moving, and before the vehicle had even stopped he was already standing on the steps. He paused for a moment, looking around, and then immediately disappeared into the doors.

About five minutes later, the front door unexpectedly burst open. The same young woman ran out of the building and rushed down the street, but, noticing the surprised looks of the few passersby on this quiet street, she forced herself to change from an uncontrolled run to brisk steps.

Soon afterward, a man came out of the house who had arrived in a taxi. With his hands deeply thrust into his coat pockets, he stood hesitating at the entrance as if considering where to go; then he turned and slowly walked along the street.

But there was also a third one. After the man in the coat left, the third person entered the house...