Dig grave for yourself, bitch
Sometimes wives of criminals stand behind their husbands’ backs and feed ammunition. Bust in most cases they are weak, vulnerable, and thoughtless women who had met and fallen in love with a wrong guy. Tatiana, the common-law partner of the thief in law, share her story with Life.ru.
Romance in law
I was 18, while he was a crowned thief, older then me by 25 years. We have met each other in a cafe. We were celebrating successfully passed end-of-semester exams with my friends; he had a dinner with a friend. They sent a bottle of champagne to our table. I could not even think that this steady man, looking older than my father, can be after me. I was a fleshy girl, while my girlfriend Mashka – a blonde with large boobs – always attracted men. So, we thought that he is hitting on her. Mashka was looking at him all the time and laughing loud. But then he approached and asked for my phone number. Of course, I gave him my number: there were prettier girls at the table, but he had chosen me.
He called, asked what would I want. I wanted many things: a new jacket, like Masha’s one, French perfume, platform boots worth 3 monthly salaries of my dad in the second-hand store, etc. But I said: flowers. We agreed to meet near the university. Instead of him, a big guy in leather jacket came to me and gave a huge bunch of red roses. Later we counted those with girls: 101 flower. And the guy said: “You are lucky, girl. Vlad is your goldfish”. I believed.
Anything you want
At first, I was shocked with his scope: beautiful cars that even smelled differently, luxury life. We could walk into a store because I liked something on its display, could buy several fur coats because I could not pick one. He seemed so strong and masculine to me. Could solve any issue easily. Men feared and respected him, women admired him.
I moved to his place – although my parents tried to stop me and promised to knock the nonsense out of me. But he had a conversation with my father, and father had to agree. Later he told his friends what he had said to my father: “If you offend the girl, I would smack your head”. The guests laughed approvingly: “Normally fathers tell this to boyfriends, but you have made just the opposite”.
I quit the university; he wanted me to be at home all the time and did not like me going outside without him. We rarely were out together: there was a bitter carving out of wealth; shootings of criminals have already started, and my man never left without guards and visited only trusted places. A trip with the girls to the sea was out of the question for me.
After a couple of years, I started talking about marriage, explained that I want a real, official family and a child – because our relations were not developing. We lived together but were not a family. He normally responded that he can’t marry me because this is against the ‘code’: crowned thieves can not marry. He did not allow me to have a baby: should something happen with him, there will be a manhunt on the child. I had several abortions. I hoped that he feels sorry and changes his mind, but he was just sending a car with a driver to take me from the hospital.
“Dig a grave for yourself, bitch”
I tried to leave him. Initially I just intimidated him – returned home for a couple of days, and every time he was coming and taking me back. The parents suffered but never intervened – they knew that I would do it my way anyways. Once we had a serious fight with him, I yelled that I will leave him anyways because our relations have no future. Suddenly he rose from the seat and threw the jacket into my face: “Let’s go!” I saw in his eyes that something was wrong but couldn’t dare to disobey him. I even put on suède boots, stupid.
We arrived to a bare place, some 15 minutes by car from our home. It was dark already, icy rain started. My husband took a spade from the car trunk and said, like in a movie: “Dig a grave for yourself, bitch”. And added that I can leave him only into eternity. I was crying and digging, I felt so sorry for myself. I was difficult to dig the moist heavy soil. Callosities popped-up on my hands immediately, I was all wet. Then I noticed that he was sorry for me, too – he was keeping silence and smoking. I fell on my knees, embraced his feet, and promised that I’ll never speak of leaving him again. At home he impregnated me with cognac and said that he won’t let me go.
Two years later my husband was murdered by his own kin. Of course, the official version was: a skirmish between gangs. The ‘bros’ came to me on the same night. I saw them before, although my husband never involved me into his affairs. They were torturing me for more than a day and also said that I will never leave.
Brigade TV series
When they left, I laid for some time and then went to my one-room apartment inherited from my grandma. I wanted to renovate it for a while, but never had time for this. I inherited nothing from my husband – we were not officially married, and the bros would seize everything anyways; it was in the beginning of the 1990s, the time of lawlessness.
But they did not leave me alone even after my move to another place. They came a few days after. And started coming regularly: music and drinking for the whole night. My neighbors kept silence fearing to say a word. Later they told me that they had complained to the district police inspector – but what could he do? He feared them as well. I would be happy to never see these guests again – but after the death of my husband, I could not expect any help from anywhere. I never involved my parents into this – I did not want the bros to start coming to their home. One crazy old lady once knocked to my door at 2 am – noise and music were keeping her awake – and slapped me several times. My guests went out, and I hardly convinced them not to touch the old woman.
Then the bros decided to engage me into the business – the criminal world has already started its legalization. They told me that my education will be covered from the thieves’ pooled cash fund, and then they will find me a job in a governmental structure – they needed trusted people there. I would not dare to object, I accepted that the criminality will remain in my life forever. It was my own fault.
They invested a good money into me, and a few years later I started working. Of course, they already had everything under control – but apparently, they needed someone that could be trusted. I did not do anything special: just processed paperwork and affixed seals. Everything was decided at higher levels, money were flowing like rivers, and I also got my bit. They stopped coming to my home, but totally different people started calling and visiting me at work. Respectable men in suites replaced young thugs with golden teeth in black leather jackets.
Finally, I was able to renovate my apartment, covered walls with silk, purchased custom-made furniture and a new car. Stupid girls were envious. I told them: “Do not envy girls in expensive cars, you have no idea how often their heads are dunked into the toilet”. They did not believe me.
Then the times have changed. Most of those who had surrounded by husband were either killed, or died, or went to legal business, or bought off.
Thirty years have passed, but I still remember that time with shiver... Hard times.
Ismail Efendiev is suspected of exceeding authority in connection with the investigation of cases of detained earlier former First Deputy Prime Minister Ramazan Aliyev and nephew of the former head of Dagestan Askhabali Abdulatipov. Searches are being conducted at Efendiev's office and house.
The disappearance of an elderly Muscovite, who owns three rooms on Ostozhenka Street, and her disabled son, worried the neighbors, but the police refused to initiate criminal proceedings on their application. Housing in the elite area of the capital in the meantime was re-registered to a resident of St. Petersburg, who introduced herself as their relative.