Back
True Crime · 2d ago

Novosibirsk Horror: The Boy's Gruesome Escape

0:00 11:53
true-crimerussianovosibirsk

Other episodes by Kitty Cat.

If you liked this, try these.

The full episode, in writing.

A 14-year-old boy stumbled through the birch woods outside Novosibirsk, Russia, in March 1971, his coat torn and face caked with dried blood. He carried a single shoe and clutched the handle of a battered satchel. When he finally flagged down a passing tractor, his first words were not a plea for help, but a frantic, garbled warning: “Don’t go to the house—he’s still there, and the blood is everywhere.”
This boy was Andrei Belov, a student at a local technical school. His survival marked the end of one of the most horrifying killing sprees in mid-20th century Russia—what would come to be known as the Massacre on Pervomayskaya Street.
Andrei Belov had grown up in Novosibirsk, a major Siberian city known for its factories, railway yards, and sprawling, snowbound neighborhoods. He and his family lived in a communal apartment, like many others in 1970s Russia, sharing a kitchen and bathroom with three other families. His father, Yevgeny, worked in a machinery plant, and his mother, Raisa, was a nurse at the regional clinic. They struggled to make ends meet, but Andrei excelled at mathematics and was known among his classmates for his quiet, serious demeanor.
The killer, Nikolai Semyonovich Ivanov, was 37 years old at the time of the crimes. Ivanov had been raised in the nearby village of Iskitim, son of a laborer who died in the war and a mother who worked as a cleaner. After serving in the army, Ivanov drifted through a series of jobs—railway porter, warehouse assistant, truck driver. By the late 1960s, he had established himself as a handyman and odd-jobs man in Novosibirsk, taking work as it came. Despite his unassuming appearance and reputation as a helpful neighbor, Ivanov had a criminal record: he’d been convicted of petty theft and public drunkenness, but no one suspected him of violence.
The events leading to the massacre began in late winter 1971. On March 14th, Ivanov was seen drinking at a local tavern with three men: Viktor Pavlov, a welder; Sergei Kiselev, a taxi dispatcher; and Yury Tikhonov, a firewood seller. All four men lived in the same district. That evening, Ivanov invited the group to his rented house on Pervomayskaya Street, ostensibly to continue drinking and play cards. The men accepted, stopping at a kiosk to buy two bottles of vodka and a half-kilo of sausage.
Unbeknownst to his companions, Ivanov had been evicted from the house weeks earlier. He’d broken in that afternoon, using a window latch he’d loosened during previous visits. Ivanov had also brought with him a heavy iron poker, which he hid behind the kitchen door before his guests arrived.
By 9 p.m., the men were deep into their second bottle of vodka. Witnesses later recalled that Ivanov became agitated, complaining of lost money and accusing his friends of cheating at cards. A fistfight broke out between Ivanov and Pavlov, ending when Ivanov stormed into the kitchen. There, he retrieved the iron poker, returned to the main room, and struck Pavlov in the head. Pavlov collapsed, blood pouring from a wound above his ear.
The other two men rushed to their friend’s aid but were quickly overpowered. Ivanov struck Kiselev repeatedly in the face and chest, then turned on Tikhonov, who attempted to flee out the back door. Ivanov caught him in the hallway and beat him unconscious. Within minutes, all three men were dead or dying on the floor.
Ivanov then ransacked his guests’ pockets, taking a total of 68 rubles and a silver wristwatch. He washed his hands in the kitchen sink and sat in silence for several minutes before deciding to leave. Wrapping the iron poker in a kitchen towel, he exited through the back, locking the door behind him.
The massacre was not discovered until the following morning, when a neighbor, Lidiya Antonova, noticed blood pooling beneath the front door. She called the local police, who arrived at 7:45 a.m. Officers found the three bodies in the parlor, each with multiple blunt force wounds. The room showed signs of a struggle: broken furniture, scattered playing cards, and overturned vodka bottles. The iron poker, still wrapped in a towel, was found on the kitchen table.
A few hours later, Andrei Belov appeared at the city police station. He was confused and traumatized, but managed to recount his escape. Belov had been passing Ivanov’s house on his way to a friend’s when he heard shouting and went to the window. He saw Ivanov beating one of the men with a metal rod. When Ivanov caught sight of him, he chased Belov through the yard, striking him across the back and shoulders. Belov managed to wriggle free and ran into the woods.
Belov’s testimony provided police with a suspect description. Officers put out an alert for Nikolai Ivanov, describing him as “male, age 35–40, medium build, brown hair, pronounced jaw, wearing a gray overcoat and felt boots.” Ivanov was known to police as a repeat petty criminal, though he had no recorded history of violence.
Major Anatoly Rudenko, head of the city criminal investigations unit, led the case. Rudenko ordered roadblocks on all major routes out of Novosibirsk and dispatched officers to Ivanov’s known associates. Police inspected every flophouse, work crew barracks, and railway siding in the district, questioning witnesses and collecting statements. Rudenko personally interviewed Lidiya Antonova, who revealed that Ivanov had told her two weeks earlier he’d “take care of those bastards once and for all” after losing money in a card game.
Forensic teams from the regional prosecutor’s office examined the crime scene. Blood spatter patterns indicated that the attack began in the main room and continued into the hallway. One of the bodies, Tikhonov’s, had defensive wounds on his hands and arms, suggesting he tried to shield himself. The iron poker had traces of hair and tissue matching the victims. Footprints in the snow outside the back door matched Ivanov’s size and boot tread, and police dogs followed the trail north towards the river, where it vanished at a tram stop.
The autopsies confirmed the cause of death for all three victims as massive blunt force trauma to the head and upper body. Toxicology reports showed high blood-alcohol levels for each. Investigators noted the time of death as between 9:30 and 10:15 p.m., consistent with when Belov saw the attack.
Police soon found Ivanov’s overcoat and boots hidden under a railway bridge, both smeared with blood. In the coat pocket was Pavlov’s silver wristwatch, still ticking. Investigators canvassed local pawnshops, and an attendant at the Central Market kiosk recalled Ivanov trying to pawn a “blood-stained” watch shortly after the murders.
Within 48 hours, Ivanov was spotted at a freight yard in Iskitim, 40 kilometers south of Novosibirsk. He was attempting to board a train bound for Novokuznetsk. Officers arrested him without incident. At the police station, Ivanov initially denied involvement, claiming he’d spent the night of March 14th drinking alone. When confronted with the evidence—witness testimony, the recovered watch, and the blood on his coat—he broke down, admitting to “losing control” during the fight but insisting the killings were not premeditated.
During interrogation, Ivanov described his mounting frustration over losing money at cards and feeling mocked by his friends. He admitted to bringing the iron poker with the intention of “scaring” the others, but claimed he “snapped” when Pavlov called him a thief. He confessed to striking each of the men repeatedly, but claimed he had no memory of beating Tikhonov after the first blow.
The trial of Nikolai Ivanov opened in Novosibirsk Oblast Court on June 3, 1971. The proceedings lasted five days. Ivanov was charged with three counts of murder and one count of aggravated assault. Over a dozen witnesses testified, including Andrei Belov and Lidiya Antonova. Forensic experts detailed the wounds and sequence of attacks. Ivanov’s defense argued for diminished responsibility based on intoxication and claimed the killings were a result of a drunken brawl, not malice aforethought.
The court found Ivanov guilty on all counts. Psychiatric evaluation found him competent to stand trial, noting antisocial personality traits and a history of impulsivity but no indication of psychosis. The judge sentenced Ivanov to death by firing squad, the standard penalty for multiple murders under Soviet law at the time.
The aftermath of the case reverberated through Novosibirsk’s working-class neighborhoods. Residents expressed shock that a familiar handyman could commit such a brutal crime. Local authorities ordered tighter enforcement of alcohol sale hours and increased patrols in high-risk areas. The city’s newspapers ran a series of articles warning against the dangers of excessive drinking, citing the murders as a cautionary tale.
Investigators also reviewed Ivanov’s past, searching for other possible crimes. No evidence surfaced linking him to additional killings, though he had a documented history of theft and assault. Ivanov’s execution was carried out in early August 1971 at an undisclosed location.
The Massacre on Pervomayskaya Street exposed significant flaws in local policing. Major Rudenko cited the lack of coordination between patrol officers and criminal investigators, which allowed Ivanov to evade capture for nearly two days. The case prompted the regional prosecutor’s office to develop new guidelines for rapid response to violent crimes, including more rigorous tracking of repeat offenders and faster communication between city and district police units.
The case also influenced public perceptions of alcohol-fueled violence in Soviet society. Researchers at the Siberian Branch of the Academy of Sciences cited the Ivanov murders in a 1972 study on the social consequences of alcoholism, reporting that nearly 60% of homicides in Novosibirsk involved excessive drinking.
Local social services increased funding for alcohol abuse treatment and established new outreach programs in the city’s poorest districts. The murders were used as a case study by Soviet criminologists, highlighting how the combination of poverty, social isolation, and uncontrolled drinking could erupt into violence.
The court record noted the speed with which Ivanov’s trial was conducted. From the date of his arrest to his execution was less than five months—a stark example of the efficiency, and sometimes severity, of the Soviet justice system of the era.
In a report to the Central Committee, the Novosibirsk regional prosecutor described how the Ivanov case illustrated the vulnerability of at-risk men in communal living situations, where disputes over money, alcohol, or perceived slights could escalate rapidly in the absence of outside intervention.
The murders on Pervomayskaya Street remain one of the most notorious mass killings in Novosibirsk’s history, still referenced in regional police training to illustrate the dangers of underestimating low-level offenders with histories of violence.
Soviet newspapers from 1971 reported that Ivanov’s only known words at sentencing were, “I lost everything that night. There was nothing left to keep living for.”

Hear the full story.
Listen in PodCats.

The full episode, all the chapters, your own library — and a feed of voices worth following.

Download on theApp Store
Hear the full episode Open in PodCats