Wine and Gun

"People in the media say it's a flaw in the law that she can get away with it," Hardy said at the time, trying to console her, "but I think you're doing the right thing. The lack of a chain of evidence can sometimes let someone who is really guilty of a crime go free. But sometimes it will save some wronged and innocent people, and I believe this case belongs to the latter."

"I know I'm right." Olga winked at him and answered cheerfully, "Besides, you're thinking about it from a 'rules' point of view, and I'm not interested in punishing them or saving them. , my point of view is 'truth'."

——A few years later, the real murderer was finally caught, and the truth of the case was reported at length in the newspapers, and Bart Hardy was secretly glad that they did not put the real innocent in prison. As for Olga himself, She didn't say anything about it, and Hardy suspected she had left the whole case and the innocent girl behind.

And now, McArd quoted in a flat voice—

"What begins with injustice must be strengthened with sin."

Hardy stared at him: "You didn't come to discuss with me what you're going to do next, right?"

"Yes," Lavasa McCard said calmly, "I'm just here to let you know what's going to happen next."

The bloody sunset reflected on the long streets of White Oak Town. At this time, there was no one at the gate of the town police station, and everything was quiet and lonely. Orion Hunter stood across the road from the police station, leaning against a brick wall warmed by the sun.

He was waiting for someone—the administrator of the police department’s archives, a middle-aged man with a bad habit of gambling in private. Hunter had previously shoved him a handful of bills, which was enough for the other party to risk a certain amount of money to enter. Archives, help him find an old file from thirty years ago.

Those files are even old enough not to be entered into the system, they will not be remembered, and no one will care. Of course, the administrator is willing to take such a small risk for a sum of money.

Hunter arrived a little early, and they made an appointment to meet after the administrator got off work. Now, the other party has not come.

Albarino tilted his head, his voice soft: "Did you draw my blood, or did you give me some medicine?"

"Blood," Herstal said in a gentle voice, the tone of which was no different from what he heard before he passed out... Albarino knew that this person had already made up his mind, "About eight hundred milliliters, your physique is not bad. , but it is also normal to experience dizziness and cold hands and feet."

"Is this the last solution you thought of?" Albarino snorted lowly and without a smile.

"Yes, I think that's the best solution," Herstal said calmly. "Assuming it's McCard's trap, I'll be arrested after killing Slade. Then they'll Found a lot of your blood in my home."

Albarino looked directly at him: "Then?"

"I'll confess that I killed you," Herstal replied, in a casual tone that seemed to at least discuss the everyday question of who washes the bowls. "Or, at least, I'm going to convince them that I killed you."

Because as long as he is considered a Westland pianist, Albariño must be suspected of being a Sunday gardener, otherwise many things that have happened before cannot be explained, not to mention Lavasa, who must have been suspicious. McCard's - they can't expect the authorities to be that stupid yet.

"Obviously you never thought to ask my opinion," Albarino said flatly.

"That's the mistake you've been making," Herstal pointed out, "you've always thought that as long as I was willing to dance at your pace, things would be all right--but I did, even me. Not in the same camp with you all the time."

Albarino had been struggling slightly while listening to him, and they all knew that it was pointless, and the nylon tie couldn't be broken free so easily. Albarino looked directly at Herstal, the smile he always had in his eyes was completely gone, and it was rare for him to show this expression: "It's the question - what's the point of all this?"

He had no doubt that, at the time of the Norman Brothers case, Herstal would not have minded another man's obsession with stepping into the trap with him.

Herstal looked at Albarino and sighed slowly and softly.

Then he stepped forward and wrapped a hand around Albarino's bound wrist--the skin on his wrist, which had been ripped from the hard girdle in the struggle, looked exceptional now. Tender and red - Herstal's fingers pressed against the swollen and painful skin, leaning down and kissing Albarino's lips delicately.

"I love you," he said slowly and softly in the other person's ear. "I care. I lost."

Note:

[1] "What begins with iniquity must be strengthened with sin."

- Shakespeare's Macbeth

Chapter 93 Lotus Eater 04

Herstal straightened up slowly, the warmth of the other's skin still lingering on his fingers. The sentence he uttered has been lingering in his heart for a long time, and he thought he would feel relieved when he said it - but he didn't. For a moment like this, he felt the tranquility that enveloped him as quietly as death.

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