Natalia Tymoshenko, Lena Obukhova. The city falls asleep, the mafia wakes up (№ 437508)

The street was overcast again: the sun was hidden by heavy low clouds, a strong wind swayed the trees, from which they rustled anxiously, as if whispering something to each other. Despite the middle of summer, the weather was like autumn, as is often the case in St. Petersburg and its environs. Even the birds chirped somehow in autumn, anxiously and unevenly.