Wine and Gun

Olga paused for a moment, then craned her neck to glance at the papers in the policeman's hands, apparently not remembering the name she just saw.

She quickly saw what she wanted to see and read it out: "...Anthony Sharp."

"Really? Isn't this conclusion too hasty?" Hardy couldn't help but ask, judging the name of an unknown victim with his bare hands. After all, they've only seen it in stupid TV dramas.

"Never sloppy." Olga shook her head, and she quickly walked up the steps, then knelt down beside the corpse lying on the ground without warning. She lowered herself and brought her face close to that of the skeleton stuffed with poppies in Hardy's shocked gaze.

"Olga?" Hardy asked, in a tone that seemed to think she was finally going crazy. But it's not bad. In Lavasa McCard's eyes, she must have reached the brink of madness.

"Look at it," Olga whispered, looking from the skeleton's point of view, in the direction of his twitchy fingers reaching up to the sky, and you'll see that the pale and bony fingers are pointing directly at the court square. on the tall statue.

——The female figure with her eyes blindfolded stood on a splendid pedestal, holding a sword in one hand and a scale in the other. This sculpture is the most conspicuous building in the square in front of the courthouse, even from a distance, it can be seen at a glance.

"It's pointing its finger at the Lady of Justice," Olga whispered, and she let out a lilting laugh. "A funny irony, isn't it?"

Albarino blinked sleepily.

He felt dizzy and dizzy this night, his body was aching to death, and the arm under his head was completely numb. Seriously, it is possible for someone who has worked intensely for more than twenty-four hours to run into this situation. He moved with a moan, hissing and gasping from the numbness of his fingers, and just as he tried to look up, his forehead hit something.

- Correction: His forehead hit the Westland pianist's shoulder.

A person's life may contain many choices, but "I saw the Westland pianist looking at you with the eyes of 'why didn't I strangle you'" in the morning in life planning.

Albarino glared at each other for a while, then asked logically: "...Why am I on your bed?"

Herstal sighed and came again, the sound of a dog tearing up the sofa when he came home from work.

"How much do you remember about last night?" he asked angrily.

"Are you asking me before or after I put Billy and the others out?" Albarino's voice was still low and soft because of the confusion, and there was a happy smile, "I remember the previous things clearly. , but then I'm pretty sure I almost lost consciousness on the way back."

—That’s it, basically what happened the night before: Albarino finally finished his gardener’s work around midnight, so he brought his unfinished artwork, and a Herstal, who watched him idly all day, drove back to the city.

Albarino placed Herstal near his law firm and took the two corpses to an unknown location. Since the other party didn't plan to take him to the scene of the crime, Herstal didn't mention it at all.

Or, they all have to admit: that's still too intimate, especially when it comes to the part where the gardener's work is on display.

Then he drove back to the apartment where he lived. His car had been parked in the garage near the law firm for the past few days. It was a long-term lease, no camera, and no receipt for parking. Because he never walks home, it's still a bit strange to be captured by a camera outside the apartment of walking home at midnight.

He really wished he was too nervous, but when you're a pervert murderer, you can't be too careful.

Herstal thought that was the end of the matter: he went back to his apartment, and Albarino probably went back to his rented apartment after setting up the crime scene to catch up. They reenacted the entire process of briefly meeting and then parting ways, just like every time before.

But things obviously didn't go as he expected, because around four in the morning, an uninvited guest came to his apartment.

Albarino Bacchus appeared in front of his room staggeringly, like a haunted man—Herstal confirmed afterwards that this man could still accurately Found his house and picked the lock when he entered the door. Albarino was lucky to be able to avoid the alarms of the security system - he muttered something no one could hear, and then With a plop, he fell on Herstal's bed.

He fell asleep as fast as he had died suddenly.

All in all, Albarino did not drive the SUV with the changed license plate to the underground parking lot of Herstal's house, nor did he enter the door wearing the clothes he used to dispose of the body, and he did not bring back any crime tools. This kind of thoughtful behavior saved his life to some extent, it didn't let him be strangled by the pianist late at night, and it didn't let him get kicked off the bed by Herstal.

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