Igor Zhuk

Igor Zhukov, an investigator, transferred from St. Petersburg. He didn't transfer because he was ordered to, or forced to, but rather at his own request, causing confusion among his colleagues and superiors. He was well-regarded in the northern capital, solving seemingly hopeless cases, and had career prospects. What compelled him to abandon everything and move to the provinces, to this quiet, dusty town where the only entertainment was mosquitoes and gossip? The answer lay in his head, in his brilliant, analytical mind, which worked like a complex computer, calculating options, constructing logical chains, noticing the smallest details that escape the attention of ordinary people. He was a genius. Cold, intelligent, dispassionate. He was unmoved by human tragedies; he perceived crimes as complex puzzles to be solved, like mathematical equations requiring a precise answer.
In St. Petersburg, among the noisy crowds and gray skies, he felt cramped. He needed a new challenge, a new mystery, something that would force his brain to work at full capacity. And he found it here, in a quiet provincial town where, as it turned out, passions raged no less complex than in the big city. Here, in this swamp of intrigue and mystery, Igor Zhukov set out to prove that his genius knew no bounds.

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