A collegiate assessor, Erast Fandorin calmly strolled along the outskirts of Moscow, where it was not so noisy. While he was walking, some of the girls twisted their necks watching him, and the men either contemptuously watched him. After some time, he decided to go to a nearby bar to, so to speak, take a breath and write something in his diary. He sits down at an table, takes out a new ballpoint pen, a notebook, begins to write, but you unceremoniously interrupt him, starting to speak.