Wine and Gun

"Are we playing some girlish game of secret exchange?" Herstal asked.

"I'm getting to know you well, Herstal," Albarino replied casually, "because we all admit that it doesn't matter how much we get to know the body. These frivolous pleasures are short-lived, And the soul is—"

He paused, lowering his voice suggestively.

"—how wonderful," he said softly.

"Sounds creepy," Herstal commented.

"You think so too, or I'd be dead by now." Albarino smiled lightly, and then he finally managed to pull something off the fir tree, and the tormented branches emanated There was a trembling clatter, and the small colored lights above shook.

There are many police officers in the house looking in this direction, no doubt in their eyes, people who are still in the mood to toss the Christmas tree when things have developed to this point may not be very normal.

——And Albarino had reached out to Herstal with a small silver bell plucked from the Christmas tree lying in his hand.

He shook off the pine branches from the bell, and said to Herstal: "Some people think that the bell on the Christmas tree represents the church bell, and some think it's just the bell on the neck of Santa's reindeer. I think, since The Christmas tree is just a manifestation of the secularization of Christmas, and it doesn't have to be given so much meaning - in short, this is for you."

"...I really want to ask," Herstal was silent for a while, and then said with difficulty, "why did you think about grabbing a pendant from the Christmas tree at the police station and giving it to someone else?"

Albarino looked at him calmly, with an innocent expression: "The gift I prepared for you has been placed in your house, the snow is so heavy, it seems that even if the case is solved, it will not be able to go back before midnight, Take it as a Christmas present first."

Herstal stared at him reproachfully.

"Am I the kind of person who needs gifts for Christmas in your eyes?" he asked meanly.

"Nothing is necessary, but it's better than nothing." Albarino smiled and shoved the bell into his hand involuntarily, "and I know you definitely didn't give it to your roommate. Prepare gifts, so from a conscience-blame point of view, you owe me at least this."

Holding the bell, Herstal almost laughed out loud: How does someone like Albarino say something like "conscience is condemned"?

"The WLPD Christmas tree is not made of fake plastic, and the decorations on it are of good quality. I'm pretty sure this bell is genuine silver-plated, and I pick up a few every year." Albarino told enthusiastically. he.

Herstal looked down at the bell lying in his palm, with an expression on his face that people don't know why things have become so unreasonably now. He was silent for a while, then slowly closed his palms and said, "You know what? Albarino, I never understood you."

"And this makes you feel dangerous?" Albarino asked with a smile.

"I don't think there's any point in denying that," Herstal replied in a low voice.

It was this moment, as if to end what they were talking about, or a peculiar echo of something in it, the lights above their heads flickered, and then suddenly plunged into darkness.

The lights inside the entire police station were dark, and there was a commotion around them, and the bào snow outside the window was still urgent and dense, and nothing else could be seen.

"Power outage?" shouted a policeman in the dark.

"All the lights in the whole building are off." Another person replied.

There were calls in the dark, and some people turned on their mobile phones and flashlights, and everyone's faces were extremely pale in the light.

A minute or two later, someone said, "I called the power bureau, and I don't know if the snow broke down the power line or if the power pole fell, but the whole block lost power."

Very good, although a group of people trapped in the police station by heavy snow and murder is not considered a serious bào Wind Snow Villa, but obviously the current situation is already suspenseful enough, and Herstal silently muttered in his heart.

At this time, Hardy was trudging through the crowd and trudging toward them. He was the most distracted person in this situation. There was too much chaos in the darkness, not to mention the certainty among them. A murderer is hiding.

Herstal knew that there was actually more than one murderer hidden here, and he wondered if Hardy would go mad if he knew this fact.

"If this goes on, I'm worried that the murderer will commit crimes in the dark." As soon as he approached them, Hardy said straight to the point, "Detective Olga and McCard are screening the suspect's information, but it goes on like this. I don't think there is enough time."

"Speaking of the police station has a backup power supply? I remember this is one of the architectural requirements for such a large building?" Albarino thought for a while and asked, "Backup generator?"

"Yes, the backup generator is opposite the parking lot behind the police station, and the power distribution room is there." Hardy gestured in a certain direction in the distance, but his voice became more anxious, "But that's useless at all. , the people who maintain that machine are off for Christmas, and I doubt anyone here can operate a diesel generator without instructions—"

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