It was a cold and dark night, when a young woman, named Sveta, knocked on her neighbour’s door. When they opened, they were shocked to see the state of her. She was covered in blood and asked them to call an ambulance before collapsing in the doorway. Outside, her friend lay dead in a blood-soaked phone booth. The trail of blood stretched from the booth, along the sidewalk, up the stairs, and to where Sveta crumpled to the ground. This was terrifying, as in Soviet Gorky, such brutal violence was rare. People typically worked hard and kept to themselves. Life was routine, sterile and predictable. However, this vicious attack was not an isolated incident. In the fall of 1980, there had been a spree of murders in the city and the bodies that were found, bore the marks of unspeakable violence. The killer seemed to strike at random, leaving no discernible pattern for authorities to follow. His victims were people from all walks of life and had no obvious connection. As the body count rose, so did the panic among Gorky's residents. Nowhere in Gorky felt safe, and no one was spared from the growing terror. The haunting question echoed through every street: Who would be the next to die at the unforgiving hand of the Gorky Maniac? You are listening to: The Evidence Locker. Thank you for tuning in to our podcast. We’re able to bring you new episodes thanks to the support of our sponsors – please check them out, as they offer some exclusive deals just for you, our listeners. If you prefer an ad-free experience, you can find us on Patreon, with plans starting at just $2 a month. Plus, 25% of all Patreon proceeds go directly to The Doe Network, helping to bring closure to international cold cases. For more details, check the link in our show notes. Our episodes cover true crimes involving real people, and some content may be graphic in nature. Listener discretion is advised. We produce each episode with the utmost respect for the victims, their families, and loved ones. 1980 was a very significant time for the USSR, as they hosted the summer Olympics in Moskow. It was an opportunity to project an image of national strength and prosperity, convincing the world of communism's superiority over capitalism. The Soviet government's carefully cultivated image of maintaining order and security for its citizens, shone brighter than ever. Located about 400 kilometres east of Moscow, is the industrial city of Nizhny Novgorod – home to imposing concrete structures and broad avenues, typical of Soviet urban planning. In the late-seventies and early eighties, the city was called Gorky and its skyline was dominated by factory chimneys, and the city's atmosphere was a blend of industrial grit and the controlled uniformity characteristic of the era. It was a vital hub of Soviet manufacturing, producing essential goods for the Soviet war machine, making it the nation's workshop for economic and military power. To prevent technological espionage and to maintain secrecy around the Soviet Union's industrial capabilities, the government imposed strict controls, effectively closing the city off to foreigners, in order to protect its secrets. The average citizen in Gorky of that time, navigated a life of routine and scarcity, marked by long commutes to state-owned factories, queuing for essential goods, and a constant feeling of government surveillance. So, when the body of a young woman was found in near the Gorky Automobile Plant on the outskirts of the city, people took note. The scale of the Plant was astounding with about 100,000 people worked there, and it was often referred to as a city within a city. On that icy autumn morning, a factory worker was heading to the Komsomolskaya checkpoint, when he noticed something unusual in the shrubbery, behind a bus stop. He walked over to have a closer look, and saw it was the mutilated body of a young woman. The girl was Nina Sinitsyna, a quiet pharmacy worker who vanished on her way home the night before, leaving her parents frantic. Known for her introverted nature and love of books, it was unthinkable that she could have met such a violent death. It appeared as if her killer had dragged her from a nearby bus stop to the location where her body was discovered. He sexually assaulted her before he stabbed her repeatedly, serving a fatal blow to her neck. Then he took 200 rubles from her and left her for dead. It was unusual for Nina to carry so much cash, but she had been granted permission by the state, to visit Bulgaria and had been given a loan from her mutual aid fund. Sadly she withdrew the 200 rubles after leaving work to pay for the trip. Could the killer have known about the money? Was that part of his motive for killing Nina? An eyewitness later came forward, revealing significant information. She was a cleaner at a public toilet, just yards from where Nina's body was found. Around the time of the murder the cleaner accidentally walked in on a young man changing his clothes, so she left to give him privacy. When she returned later, she found a bundle of discarded clothing in the trash. In Soviet times, it was rare for anyone to throw away anything of value. So, curious, she took a closer look and was horrified to discover that the clothes were covered in blood. But by then, the man had already disappeared. Was this man Nina’s killer? Unfortunately, she could not provide a very good description of the man, and at this point, the information was not very useful. Then, a couple of days later, on an embankment of the Moscow highway, hidden in the undergrowth, the body of an unnamed man was found. He had suffered seven stab wounds, one of which proved fatal. The victim was barefoot and a worn-out pair of wicker shoes was. Found nearby. However, they did not belong to the victim. This implied that the killer had walked away wearing his victim’s shoes. A strange quirk perhaps, and then he did it again, so it became his signature. As investigators processed the crime scene near the highway, they received word of yet another murder. This time, the body of a man was found near the River Oka, a popular picnic spot known for its natural beauty. A couple, out for an evening stroll, stumbled upon the brutalized body of Konstantin Aleksandrov. He was covered in stab wounds, stripped of 1,100 rubles and his shoes. Oddly, the killer left 86 rubles in his pocket. Investigators also found an empty pack of Belomorkanal cigarettes with a bloody fingerprint that didn’t belong to Konstantin. Experts meticulously compared the fingerprints found at the scene with those of numerous criminals, but their efforts were in vain. It was later discovered that the blood on the killer's hand had distorted the prints. When a liquid like blood covers the fingers, it smears, preventing the papillary patterns from being imprinted correctly. At the time, the Avtozavodsky district typically saw about 16 murders a year. But now, they were facing their second murder in a day and the third in a week—each marked by brutal cruelty. This was perplexing: the killer had a distinct modus operandi, but the victims varied – men and women, young and old. Panic gripped Gorky as the randomness of the killings meant no one was safe. Soviet authorities, unused to dealing with serial killers, were at a loss. In the USSR, such crimes were often attributed to the decadence of capitalist societies. The idea that a Soviet citizen could be capable of such acts was almost unthinkable. Yet, the mounting evidence was undeniable – Gorky had a serial killer in its midst. Although the incidents were not reported in the media, news of the killings spread like wildfire. The fact that the first victim was found outside of the Gorky Automobile Plant, meant that most of the 100,000 people who worked there, heard about it on the day. And despite attempts by authorities to downplay the situation, Gorky was gripped by a wave of fear. Everyone began to take precautions: they avoided walking alone, especially after dark. They travelled in groups and eyed strangers with suspicion. But despite their vigilance, the killer continued to find victims. Investigators went through crime reports, looking for similar crimes in Gorky and quickly linked the killings to a recent case. Two weeks earlier, Anna Kovaleva was attacked by a man who confronted her at a bus stop. He grabbed her and dragged her away, saying: “Do you know who I am? I’m the king here, and everything’s under my control. I’ll kill you before you even have a chance to scream.” Anna fought back, and fortunately a passerby heard her cries for help and came to her rescue, causing the assailant to run away. Although Anna was wounded, she survived and provided a detailed description to the police so they could create a composite sketch. On the night of Anna’s attack, another girl was attacked under similar circumstances but also managed to escape after suffering multiple stab wounds. She provided a description that matched Anna’s. Additionally, an odd incident occurred at a shoe cleaner's booth near the Gorky railway station. A peculiar man with expensive imported shoes, paid ten times more than the usual fee for the service and left behind a pair of slightly worn shoes. The cleaner found it strange and reported the incident to the militsiya, adding another piece to the puzzle. Based on these eyewitness accounts, militsya created a composite sketch. The suspect was described as a man in his early thirties, of average height and build, with short dark hair and a nondescript face. He also had facial hair, including a thick handlebar moustache, typical of the early 80s. Despite the sketch, the investigation faced challenges, as the description could match many men in Gorky. Then, towards the end of 1980, the residents of the small village of Nagulino were going about their usual business, when a man appeared from the woods, his face covered in blood. Mikhail worked as a driver, and in between jobs, he picked up his girlfriend, Lena. They drove into the nearby woods to make out, but as the windows were steaming up, two strangers appeared as if from nowhere, and launched a violent attack. Mikhail was stabbed in the eye, but he managed to escape. The attackers drove off with his car, taking Lena hostage. When her body was found, they could determine that she had been sexually assaulted before she was stabbed and left for dead. Investigators were deeply concerned: the crime bore the hallmarks of the Gorky Park Maniac, but in all the other cases, they were convinced he had worked alone. Now there were two perpetrators. Was this crime related to the Gorky murders, or was this pair a couple of copycats? Investigators interviewed witnesses, analysed crime scenes, and followed up on every lead, no matter how small. But the killer remained elusive, always seeming to be one step ahead of the authorities. The investigation found that the crimes were committed along the tram line running through the Lenin and Avtozavodsky districts from the station to the Automobile Plant. Could their killer be someone working at the plant? Nizhny Novgorod’s tram lines were vast, with about 200 trams transporting up to 200,000 people daily in Gorky. Identifying criminals among them was a daunting task. In response, investigators ramped up efforts, focusing surveillance on areas where the killer had previously struck, but the Gorky Maniac remained elusive. One night, however, a group of drunken youths attacked a tram conductor. Thanks to an undercover officer nearby, they were arrested and confessed to a separate crime: the attack on the couple in Nagulino and the sexual assault and murder of Lena. This confirmed to militsya that their primary suspect was in fact someone else, and likely operated alone. That was one case closed, but before they could breathe a sigh of relief, the Gorky Maniac struck again. Best friends, Marina and Sveta, were spending the night doing macramé, and lost track of time. Too scared to walk home with a knife-wielding madman on the loose, Marina decided to stay at Sveta’s for the night. She just needed to call her mother to let her know. At the phonebooth, the two women were approached by an assailant who launched an unforgiving attack. Marina, 28, trapped inside the booth, was fatally stabbed. Her mother heard how her daughter was killed, the receiver dangling helplessly as Marina lost her life. Sveta survived the attack and managed to run to a neighbour’s front door and pleaded with them to call an ambulance. As militsya cordoned off the scene around the phone booth with police tape, they did not realise that the killer was, in fact, among the crowd of onlookers, standing a couple of yards away. Admiring his bloodthirsty work. Sadly Sveta did not make it. Before succumbing to her injuries in the hospital, however, she managed to provide a detailed description of the killer. It closely matched the composite sketch from Anna Kovaleva’s statement. On the same night of this attack, an unnamed military veteran was also stabbed to death in his aged care home, and his body was dragged into the snow. The killer was out of control. At first, he attacked people on the street, but entering an aged care facility and finding a hapless victim there… What kind of monster were they dealing with? Investigators were at a loss. The investigation, led by the local militsiya was hampered by several factors. The closed nature of Gorky meant that outside expertise was difficult to come by. The Soviet system, with its emphasis on presenting an image of a perfect society, was ill-equipped to deal with the reality of a serial killer. Resources were limited, and modern forensic techniques were largely unavailable. Investigators had to rely on old-fashioned detective work of interviewing witnesses, and amping up police presence. Workers at the Automobile Plant threatened to go on strike, as they no longer felt safe going to work. This piqued the interest of committee members in Moskow, seeing as the plant produced most of Russia’s luxury vehicles and limousines. Dignitaries decided to visit the city of Gorky, to see what had everyone up in arms. A special investigative and operational team was sent to Gorky, under command of Deputy Chief of the Main Criminal Investigation Department of the Union Ministry of Internal Affairs, Major General Alexei. Everyone knew about this visit, and the fact that such a high-ranking officer came to Gorky, proved how serious the case was. At first, the main theory was that the killer was a traveller, who visited the city, committed the murders then left. They focussed on the main train stations and again, revisited the Gorky tram network. Though vagrants were rare in Soviet Russia, those who existed often congregated near train stations. One day, a group of them gathered around a fire, drinking their staple moonshine, samagon, when one man began boasting that he was "The King of the Criminal World," claiming to be Russia's most feared criminal. Initially brushed off as drunken boasting, the situation quickly escalated into a physical altercation. A patrol officer intervened and discovered the man was armed with a knife. The officer, however, was bribed with 25 rubles and allowed the man to walk free. Some days later, a similar incident took place. This time in the village of Vurnary in the Chuvash ASSR, a group of people were drinking out in a field, when a man, claiming to be the "King of the Criminal World," demanded submission from the others. When one woman laughingly refused, he viciously stabbed her in the chest and neck. Her terrified friends fled, and the militsya were called. The man was arrested, and it was later discovered that earlier that day, he had also committed rape. Meanwhile, the investigation in Gorky intensified, and news soon came from the Chuvash ASSR about the arrest of local man, Gennady Ivanov for a brutal murder. His method closely resembled that of the Gorky Maniac. During a search of Ivanov’s home, women’s jewellery and a gold watch—belonging to one of Gorky’s victims—were found, confirming that the elusive killer had finally been captured. Gennady Ivanovich Ivanov, born in 1947, grew up in a small village in the Chuvash ASSR. He trained as a tractor driver, and by all accounts was a rather unremarkable person. Craving status, he enlisted for service in the armed forces. He served at Baikonur as part of a secret military service. Ivanov returned from the army filled to the brim with self-importance, but the villagers laughed at him. He snapped and in a heated argument, killed one of his acquintances. For this crime, he was sentenced to serve ten years in a labour camp. In the USSR, these camps were often located in remote areas and were designed for different levels of offenders, from petty criminals to political prisoners. Inmates were forced to perform hard labour, such as mining, logging, or construction, under harsh conditions. The purpose was both punitive and practical – exploiting the labour of prisoners for state projects. Conditions were often brutal, and the regime was strict, with little regard for human rights. Ivanov was released after serving only seven years, under specified conditions: he agreed to go and work at the Gorky Automobile Plant as part of a prisoner-release program. However, he escaped from the special convoy transporting prisoners and managed to evade recapture. When his younger brother Leonid learned of the arrest, he came forward and agreed to tell the militsya everything he knew. He claimed he always admired Gennady and wanted to be like him. But when he tried to involve him in his murderous rampage by killing a woman in front of Leonid, everything turned upside down in the teenager's soul. How could he respect someone who brutalised innocent people? In the days following his arrest, as Ivanov sat in a cell awaiting questioning, investigators began to piece together the full extent of his crimes. Searches of his home uncovered more evidence linking him to the murders. With limited media coverage of the case at the time, it is not clear exactly what the evidence was, however, prosecutors felt it was damning enough to keep him in custody. Investigators also escorted Ivanov to each crime scene, where he meticulously reconstructed the murders. During one interrogation, Ivanov chillingly explained his twisted inspiration, saying, he wanted to be like an American criminal, who robbed people and then sold the stolen goods. His comment suggested a bizarre admiration for the criminal underworld he imagined existed in the West, revealing a distorted mindset. He also spoke of an uncontrollable urge to kill, describing a sense of power he felt during his attacks. But he seemed proud of his ‘work’ and often referred to himself as ‘the king’ or sometimes ‘the king of the jungle’ during interrogations. Ivanov's confessions and detailed reenactments provided vital evidence, solidifying his guilt and painting a grim picture of his calculated brutality. Gennady Ivanov's trial was swift, given the overwhelming evidence against him, including witness testimonies and physical evidence. Ivanov was found guilty of eight murders and one assault with a knife and was sentenced to death by firing squad, a common punishment in the Soviet Union for serious crimes like serial murder. His execution took place in 1982, marking the end of his reign of terror. The speed of the process, from arrest to execution, was not unusual for the Soviet system, especially in cases deemed to be particularly heinous or threatening to social order. For the residents of Gorky, the aftermath of Ivanov's crimes was complex. There was relief that the killer had been caught and punished, but also lingering fear and trauma. Many residents who had lived through the years of the Gorky Maniac's activities found it difficult to feel safe again, even long after the danger had passed. The families of Ivanov's victims faced their own struggles. In the Soviet system, there was little in the way of victim support or counselling services. Many families suffered in silence, their grief compounded by the brutal nature of their loved ones' deaths and the public scrutiny that came with the high-profile case. In the years following the case, Gorky slowly began to heal. The story of the Gorky Maniac became a dark chapter in the city's history, spoken of in hushed tones but gradually fading from everyday conversation. Today, more than four decades after Ivanov's reign of terror began, the case of the Gorky Maniac remains one of the most notorious in Russian criminal history. Ivanov's crimes shattered the illusion of safety in a closed Soviet city, challenging official narratives and forcing authorities to confront realities they had long denied. If you'd like to dive deeper into this case, check out the resources we used for this episode in the show notes. Don’t forget to follow us on social media for more updates on today's case – you can find us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. We also have a channel on YouTube where you can watch more content. If you enjoy what we do here at Evidence Locker, please subscribe on Apple Podcasts or wherever you're listening right now, and consider leaving us a 5-star review. This was The Evidence Locker. Thank you for listening! ©2025 Evidence Locker Podcast All rights reserved. This podcast or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a podcast review.