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low-yield murder |
"control shot" |
podyezd |
really stupid criminal |
children |
cries for help ignored |
murder-suicide |
"investigation continuing" |
carved up like a turkey |
related to victim's job |
cannibalism |
riddled with bullets |
old people |
Hunger-related murder |
COMMERCIAL DIRECTOR SLAIN!
How should you spend your Monday evening? We know-become the "commercial director" of a Moscow company, get driven home by your bodyguard, and hang
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"Who knows-- if I assassinate the president, maybe they'll bring back 80s fashion." |
around a second or two too long in your doorway on the way to your apartment! In yet another murder so perfectly predictable that you could set your watch by it, 40 year-old Vasily Bochinsky, director of a Moscow construction company, was shot by automatic weapons fire in his doorway by unidentified assailant last Monday evening on Petrovsko-Razumovsky proyezd. Everything about this crime was by the book, from the clunky, vaguely menacing neo-Soviet-esque name of Bochinsky’s company (OOO "Tryubokomplekstroi"), to the eerie parallels to similar crimes involving competing firms (the director of the construction company "Yugstroi" was shot to death just before
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"Well, I've gotta hand it to y-- wait, I already did!" |
the New Year), down to the breezily confident killer (who tossed his silencer-muffled Kalashnikov on the ground the near the body and left the scene without a trace). The only original detail in the whole story seems to be that Bochinsky was found carrying fake credentials identifying him as an operative for something called the city Bureau for the Fight Against Organized Crime--a department which doesn’t exist. Apparently, Bochinsky wanted to scare someone away with his phony badge... Badge or no badge, however, Bochinsky bought it, and police believe that the killing was somehow connected with his commercial activities. Encouraging news for concerned citizens: the investigation is continuing.
COMMERCIAL DIRECTOR ALMOST SLAIN!
How’s this for a headline? It’s from Moskovsky Komsomolets on Friday, the 28th: "Businessman Remained Alive, Catching Bullet With His Teeth." There are so many contract killings these days that, like variations in
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"I have a hard time opening up to my future victims." |
the breeding of fruit flies, every conceivable statistical probability is taking place. A hit victim catching a bullet in his teeth? Next they’ll be born color-blind and with an extra set of wings. The basic DNA structure was there: a commercial director (in this case a certain Mr. Yuri Maslov, director of the firm, "Design-Center Barlett") was killed for reasons connected with his commercial activities (Maslov "frequently" quarreled with partners), a crime which remains under investigation. However, there were a few anomalies to this story of a furrier shot among his furs. For one thing, the crime took place in his office, not in his podyezd. For another, there were two killers, not the more currently fashionable one, who allowed themselves to be seen. Also, they didn’t toss their weapon on the ground at the scene, as is usual. Instead, they took it with them, and for good reason. Police determined that the gun was homemade and of extremely low caliber, which is why the head shot, which should have been fatal, instead harmlessly ricocheted off Maslov’s teeth. Also, the killers wore masks, which is not standard. Probably embarrassed about the gun.
GIVE IT UP, GRANDMA
Good thing all those Western advisors spent so much money paying themselves to advise Russians on how to create a stock market. Finally, after all those years, the dividends are paying off. Last week, according to Moskovsky Komsomolets, a 65 year-old pensioner was stabbed to death in her apartment. Police had no clues in the killing until the minute they started looking for
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"Now for the last time, shave that fucking goatee!" |
them. Turns out that the old babushka had done well investing in stocks and had recently received a dividend of a "huge sum" as the paper called it--100,000 rubles. She was so excited about her earnings that she bragged about it to her daughters and her nieces. The son of one of those nieces, a 22 year-old with a few money problems, sized up the situation quickly. First he asked Grandma for a "loan" of 15,000 rubles, which she immediately gave him. When he came back a few weeks later looking for another handout, she refused to give him any more. At that point, (yes, you guessed it) the culprit headed straight for the kitchen, took out a kitchen knife, returned and stabbed the old woman 17 times. Then he took the rest of the money and split. The suspect’s mother, who usually talked to her aunt once a day by phone, was surprised to find no answer when she called later. So she came by to check on things, and...After police were called, the suspect’s own mother fingered him in the killings. Cops caught up to him a day later. The money was gone--he’d spent it all already--but there was still a big bloodstain on his pants. One wonders just how many people there are in this city walking around with big bloodstains on their clothes. Cops are still looking for the murder weapon, though. If you find a knife wrapped in a piece of bloody cloth, call us.
THE LITTLE AXE-MURDERER THAT COULD
Here’s a tale of a really stupid criminal fit for Homer to tell, a moron who earned his three icons. It begins when a 22 year-old stumbled drunk down the street in the Kuntsevo region about a year ago and decided to go for a drive, despite the fact that he had no car. So he broke into the nearest one available, hotwired it, and promptly drove into a telephone pole. Police
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"Do you really mean it? You'll help me get a real acting job if I pose for just this one last photo?" |
discovered him passed out drunk with his head resting on the steering wheel of a car that didn’t belong to him. He was immediately arrested and put on trial for theft. The Kuntsevsky court gave him two years, but he got out in one. Throughout his sentence, the young auto thief held a grudge against the owner of the car he’d stolen, and made settling the score his first priority after getting out. Somehow or other he found out that the owner of the car had an uncle, a certain Mr. Kuzmin, who lived on Davidkovsky street and worked at the nearby market. This Kuzmin, the culprit heard, had a great passion for his new Zhiguli. So our fearless criminal did the rational thing: he broke into the car and stole the front seat out of it. Satisfied that his year-old score had been settled, he sold the car seat to an Azeri at the very same market where Kuzmin worked. Kuzmin quickly spotted his missing car seat in the Azeri’s car and demanded to be compensated. The Azeri fingered the thief to Kuzmin and told them to settle the matter between them. Kuzmin agreed and the two men decided to meet at Kuzmin’s house to talk it over. The young con brought a friend over and tried to smooth things over with his former enemy with a bottle of vodka. The latter took the drink, but still wanted money for the stolen seat. Angered that the vodka thing didn’t work, the con... yes, you know how this story ends, too: the con took an axe and chopped Kuzmin’s head off. When the victim’s wife came in screaming, she got her head chopped off, too. The two culprits took off, satisfied that their plan had worked. Then, about two hours later, they realized with horror that they’d left their hats at the scene. So they went back, retrieved their hats, set the apartment couch on fire, and left again. This time their activity attracted the attention of firefighters, who quickly arrived on the scene, found the bodies, and called the police. A quick canvass of Kuzmin’s marketplace friends led them to the criminals. Bye-bye, dickheads! See ya in the Altai!
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