“... - Yes, I’m telling you,” Klochkov wiped beads of sweat from his forehead, “there was a flash. I only realized later that it was a shot. “Did you hear the shot?” - the lieutenant looked at him condescendingly. In another situation, Klochkov would have been indignant at being called “you”, but now he ignored the rudeness. “No, I didn’t hear the shot,” he had to repeat the phrases several times until he succeeded pronounce them without hesitation. “But here’s the gun.” He pointed his finger at the photograph. “It was only when I enlarged the photograph that I saw it.” You can see for yourself,” he almost shouted. In the photo, there was actually some kind of thing sticking out of the bushes that vaguely resembled a trunk. “You can’t attach a photograph to the case if there is no corpse,” the lieutenant said melancholy...”