Wine and Gun

Olga didn't bother to correct McCard that it wasn't Hardy who showed her the document, but Hunter who showed her. Forget it, she doesn't need to involve Hunter in this matter anymore, Olga is sure that Hunter's access to the police document is illegal.

"So, this priest may have witnessed Slade's bào to Herstal, his eyes were shoved into the apple, and Derek Kermin was the most supportive of the entire jury. Sinner," Olga said, her voice always tinged with a mix of impatience and sarcasm, which was why many people didn't like her, "So what?"

McArd answered with anger: "So, first, Albarino Bacchus is the Sunday gardener; second, these cases are a parody of the pianist's case - the apple in the first case corresponds to the The apple used to replace Richard Norman's heart, the second case corresponds to the 'Abel the Shepherd' in the Thomas Norman case; Someone who is related to Dru and Amalette."

"I think what you said is quite reasonable," Olga said crisply, "but since your idea is so complete, why do you have to travel all the way to ask me again?"

McCard looked directly into her eyes. The Italian-born man had deep eyes, and when he stared at others, his eyes were deep. Many detectives were often seen as guilty by him, but Olga was obviously fearless. .

"Because I've come to realize that you probably recognized Armalette as a Westland pianist earlier than any of us, but chose to keep your mouth shut—so, Molozer," says McCard. , about the last two cases, am I correct in my inference?"

Olga was silent for a few seconds, then condescendingly nodded slightly: "You are right."

McCard nodded, and then heard her continue: "But it's useless, as you said when you taught those rookie detectives before: profiling is only to provide ideas for solving cases, not to be presented as evidence. Court."

They can now deduce that Albariño was not dead, and given the current set of circumstances, it's easy to conclude that Herstal was the pianist and Albariño was the gardener - but this cannot be presented as evidence to the jury .

"We can approach Armalite's case from other angles," McCard said smoothly.

"—McCard." Olga said, her voice had an obvious meaning to stop here, so serious that McArd had to look at her again. Olga narrowed her eyes slightly, she didn't look like she was thinking, but just pointed out a clear axiom: "You know what kind of targets gardeners are looking for lately, this is my final warning: don't continue Go deep, or you might be killed by him."

McCard looked at her for a while, then nodded slowly: "Thanks for the reminder."

Then he turned around and walked slowly out of Olga's yard.

Olga watched McCard's figure slowly disappear outside the courtyard wall, lowered her head and took a sip of the warmed drink, and said, "...this is not the first time you have been caught eavesdropping on the conversation of a federal police detective. right?"

The door behind her creaked, and Hunter flashed out of the door, smiling embarrassedly. "Well," he said ambiguously, "it's really hard to control one's curiosity to hear you discussing a case of this level."

"Whatever you want to do now, don't do it," Olga warned. "You heard it too, we're dealing with a murderer."

"—also your friend," Hunter whispered.

"My friend," Olga nodded approvingly, her voice sounding unusually pertinent, "also a murderer. So if you stand in his way, he has a 70 percent chance of killing you."

"What about the remaining thirty percent?" Hunter reminded her.

"That's the Sunday gardener," Olga said, raising her eyebrows sharply. "I'm not the roundworm in his stomach."

There is a pile of letters in front of Herstal Armalite.

Since his trial had not yet begun, and because the series of stories from the journalist named Leohard Schreiber was too sensational, the federal prison had temporarily placed him in solitary confinement until the trial was over and the verdict came out. come out.

And even if prosecutors didn't plan to indict Westland pianist at all, that didn't stop him from having a frenzied group of admirers—most of whom Herstal himself suspects were drug-addicted minors Something like that - write to him, the federal prison doesn't have so many people to insist on letters one by one, so Gān used a metal detector to check that there was no contraband in it, and there was no entrainment problem, and then he gave all the letters to him.

Sometimes Herstal feels like he's in that weird "Chicago" musical scene; he's in prison, but he's at the center of public opinion, a dancing clown on the stage, and these letters are a It can explain everything: at first he took it apart, and there was nothing new in it, a lot of curses, a lot of foul language, a lot of strange fantasies about corpses and stumps, and a few girls in the letter Claiming to climb him like a tree.

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