Wine and Gun

Herstal smiled sarcastically: "So are we talking about aesthetics now?"

"We've been talking about aesthetics since the beginning, didn't you realize it?" Albarino replied calmly. "You've been hiding under the mask of perfect sanity for too long, and when you're living in the crowd, Can't tell other people what you really think, and can't demand their understanding; your madness is most of the time tethered to the surface of the rules, so that I can peer into the shaky parts of your mask. So I'm looking forward to you The moment when the mask slips: just like the moment, when you are in the midst of utterly irrational killing, the cruelty makes you more beautiful."

"Crazy." Herstal sneered out the word.

"Or, if you will allow me, to change the word," said Albarino softly, "--'Holy ecstasy.'"

As soon as Olga jumped out of the car, she was drenched in the rain.

The rain was so heavy that she could barely see the road, and even in autumn in Westland, this kind of weather was quite rare. When it rains, the temperature is extremely low, and every gust of wind mixed with raindrops makes people shiver.

She squinted to see the heavily armed SWAT jumping out of the carriage of the car ahead, gun in hand. Officer Hardy and McCard were a little behind, and Hardy put a hand on his eyebrows to block the rain that kept running into his eyes, and he shouted to Olga, "Is that Albarino's car— —?"

Olga looked in the direction Hardy pointed to with the other hand: there was a red Chevrolet sports car parked on the side of the road. It was a very popular model, and it was not expensive, but Albarino seemed to really like it.

The problem was that there was no one in that car.

"So what are you going to do now?" Albarino asked with interest. "Bart and the FBI will arrive soon. Are you going to return to your rational shell?"

"Officer Hardy would think that what I did to this killer was too thrilling." Herstal said in a very calm tone, although Albarino knew very well that the frenetic light in his eyes has not subsided.

——This is indeed true. The body of Elliot Evans, who fell to the ground, was stabbed with many knives, and the whole appearance was so ferocious that Herstal might be prosecuted for overdefense. As a lawyer, Herstal is clearly aware of this. With his left hand, he clenched Elliott's previous knife in the backhand, and his other hand slowly, slowly, grasped the blade.

"I guess it would have made more sense if I had made those scars on him during the two of us fighting each other with knives - the only pity is that I wouldn't be able to look so unscathed." Hestal lowered his head and said, clenching the five fingers of his right hand on the blade, and then neatly pulled the blade out of the clenched palm - the next moment, blood began to drip from his fingers. drip out.

It looked excruciatingly painful, but Albarino suspects that the adrenaline has temporarily dampened the pain, and Herstal's nerves are still highly tense so far: perhaps because Albarino himself is still there.

Albarino watched with fascination as he made several similar wounds elsewhere: arms, shoulders, and under the ribs, the one below the ribs was even deep, and blood quickly soaked through his body in a somewhat frightening manner. shirt. Albarino suddenly asked, "You did self-mutilation, didn't you?"

"Obviously I survived it." Herstal deftly avoided the subject, wiped his own fingerprints off the knife handle with a small piece of clothing that was still clean, and put it back carefully. Elliott's hand so that it could be reprinted with Elliott's fingerprints.

Albarino shrugged his shoulders, unconcerned by his nonsense.

He watched Herstal throw the treated knife back into the pool of blood, where Elliot would have dropped the knife if he fell naturally, and reminded kindly, "You know, others There are some differences in the shape of wounds caused and self-inflicted, and some experienced forensic doctors can see the clues."

"I know." Herstal adjusted the knife and straightened up - he had to shake slightly due to the wound under his rib in the process - the black pool in his eyes seemed to be less surging, but That blue still burns like a cold flame. "Having said that, aren't you the 'experienced forensic doctor'?"

Albarino was stunned for a moment, and then suddenly burst into laughter.

"Okay, as you wish, Mr. Armalite." Albarino couldn't suppress the smile on his lips, but he was still almost aware of what was going to happen, so he adjusted his stance slightly, "But Then what? Do you have any other plots for the forensic doctor that I should know about?"

"The forensic doctor entered the killer's apartment alone," Herstal whispered, licking his blood-stained lips with his tongue when he paused, "and at this moment, I— - As you know, an ordinary person who has never experienced a scene like this - just got out of the hands of the killer Qiángni in a very terrible way. I was very panicked at this time, when another person showed up At the door of the basement, I subconsciously..."

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