Moscow has its own "Suicide Club". And this is not some unfortunate joke of decadent aesthetes. In fact, this is a real conveyor of death - more and more often, corpses of suicides are found in Moscow. And in their dying letters, literally all of them confess to some incredible and terrible love for death. The police would be happy to arrest the perpetrators. But who should be arrested? And now Erast Petrovich Fandorin has to take up the matter. Surely he will find out what lies behind all this: too far gone newfangled modernist hobby or someone's specifically evil and selfish intent?
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