Abyss Train

Chapter 826 Ordinary Love②·Sour

[Part①·Hands with lingering fragrance]
"Sam Walker."

The sheriff came in with a cassette recorder and seemed to take this conversation very seriously. I've seen him -

——We always go to work at the same time. The post office and the police station are very close to each other.

His name was Tom, he was thirty-seven years old, had a wife seven years younger than him, and had no children.

Three years ago, probably in 1972, he complained to me, I remember it very clearly.

His wife, Naomi, was unable to conceive, a fact he mentioned more than once.

"Mr. Tom." I was very nervous, afraid that the severed limb in my pocket would be discovered by the county sheriff.

"I received a police report and came here to take a look." Tom's eyes were complicated, and he didn't talk about Margaret right away: "The weather is too hot, I got up a little late, I'm really sorry."

These redundant and long-winded lines made me feel inexplicably anxious, because Mr. Tom never behaved in this way when handling cases - New Sidre is sparsely populated, and in this community, even if someone's family lost a dog, Tom would do his job conscientiously and get straight to the point.

"Hmm" I could feel the severed palm in my pocket seemed to be struggling. Margaret grabbed my thigh. I didn't dare to move or continue speaking.

"I remember you guys are getting married soon?" Tom asked, "Next week?"

I immediately responded, "We haven't decided on a specific date yet. It depends on the church's schedule. If there is a fasting day - or a choir performance or preaching, we will have to postpone it."

Tom: “Ah”

I continued, "I can't help it. I don't have much money."

Tom: “You didn’t send me an invitation?”

This sentence made me feel inexplicably offended. It seemed unnecessary to invite this county sheriff to my wedding with Margaret.

——I am not familiar with him. We just live across the street from each other and I occasionally speak to him as a postman.

"Let's talk about the case, Mr. Tom."

At this point, Tom's eyes obviously changed slightly.

Somehow, I seemed to have extraordinary inspiration. I seemed to be able to smell a strange smell from his slightly open lips and from the humid air.

He was very emotional when talking about Margaret.
It was a feeling of anticipation, fear, and a little bit of sour joy.

I don't understand, I can't think further, and I don't know where this intuition comes from. It seems that smells can speak and express other synaesthesia far beyond the sense of smell itself.

This statement sounds too mysterious and too weird.

"Sam Walker, the police center has sent me the call records." Mr. Tom became polite, and his hands unconsciously crossed and placed across the table, covering his chest.

He seemed to become very cautious, not facing me directly, but looking sideways, into my eyes.

"There are also police officers who went to Margaret's apartment to investigate. The security situation at Vienna's train station is very bad, so you have to be mentally prepared. As for my search, it is mainly to collect evidence, such as your diamond ring as you mentioned."

At this point, Tom patted my shoulder as if to comfort me.

"Don't worry bro, she'll be fine."

I had no guard against the county police, so I took the ring box from the drawer of the dining table and handed it over.

"This is the package I received yesterday, and it contains Margaret's ring"

When I said these words, my heart almost jumped into my throat. I have never been a good liar.

"Tom, there's blood on her ring. Maybe she was murdered. Was she kidnapped? How much ransom should I pay? I just hope Margaret can come back alive."

Mr. Tom frowned when he saw the diamond ring, as if things were not as simple as he thought.

He just continued to ask questions without answering mine.

"Is the cover of the package still there?"

"I don't know, I'll look in the trash can."

"Is there anything else sent with the package?"

"Maybe it's a book, like a hollowed-out scripture." I buried my head in the restaurant searching, hoping that Margaret wouldn't make things worse.

Tom then asked, "Where's the postman who sent you the package? What did he say?"

"Nothing was said. He took my job away and we had nothing to talk about."

"The mailing address is Portsmouth, England. Do you have any impression of this place?"

"No, I may have been there once when I was a child, but I was too young and I don't remember it."

"Sam Walker, I just realized that you are British?"

"Correct."

"You never told this to the folks in Little New Sidre"

"It doesn't matter, Mr. Tom, I have chestnut hair and blue eyes, that's common. I speak German, I speak Finnish, I speak English - talking about my old home doesn't make my life better."

"Only one ring?"

"There's no need for me to lie to you." Having said that, I resisted the urge in my heart. I wanted to take out the severed palm several times, but the inexplicable sour smell in the air became stronger and stronger, and I almost vomited.

I found the scripture in the cupboard; it seemed Margaret had put it away.

"Here it is, Mr. Tom."

When the scriptures were placed on the table, the county policeman's face suddenly relaxed, as if the anxiety had disappeared.

"Oh!"

"What's going on? Do you recognize this thing?" I didn't understand Tom's change of mood. I didn't understand: "Officer."

"No, no." Tom quickly changed his words: "I thought you couldn't find it. You know, cross-border law enforcement requires a lot of procedures to go to the consulate to apply for cooperation between the two police stations. Applying for a search warrant with just a diamond ring? It's unlikely, right?"

"Sam, the place you want to check is Fort Chadderton. That's not a castle that ordinary people can live in. The Rose ran aground in front of the lighthouse at Fort Chadderton. It has historical significance. It's almost a museum that can be sold."

The county police's words poured cold water on my head. I immediately got up and went to the bedroom to look for the piggy bank.

The wedding can't go ahead, and I still have about 600 euros. If the police can't do this, I'm going to run back to Portsmouth alone.

When he returned to the restaurant, Tom looked visibly more relaxed, and the sour smell in the air seemed to have faded a lot.

"Officer, do you smell it? What's that smell in the air?" I became more and more confused.

Tom responded, "Maybe it's the alcohol? You smell like a hangover."

“No, no, no, no.” Although my head still hurt a little, that sour smell was definitely not the smell of alcohol.

It just happened to come out of Tom, I just wasn't willing to say it -

——I worked with him for the past two months and we were close to each other. I had never smelled this odor when I changed cigarettes. This is not his body odor.

[Part②·Fighting]
"Let's talk about something else. The tape is all recorded. Its content is limited." Tom reminded: "Mr. Walker, when did you meet Margaret?"

"The cooking class social event seven years ago." I tried to search my mind for the most important and beautiful memory: "At that time, I was still working as a postman, and the company arranged a social event for me - going to the church to learn cooking skills. It was also the first time that Margaret and I met, and I mainly learned desserts."

Tom's eyes wandered to the oven: "Apple strudel?"

I immediately responded, “Yes, apple strudel.”

Tom: "Actually, I envy you, Sam."

"Huh?" I felt inexplicably surprised when I heard this.

Tom opened the oven and took out the hot baking sheet without clamps or insulation from the heat—

——Yes, I was almost stunned. At that moment, I felt my whole body trembling and a pair of cold big hands strangled my neck.

Some inexplicable auditory hallucinations appeared in my mind, only at this moment, this minute and this second.

The county police officer's flesh seemed to melt along with the sultry humidity. His fingers were burned with blisters, like churning mud. But when he released the baking tray, he had a blank expression on his face and didn't feel any pain at all.

I don't understand. Am I still trapped in illusion?

What the hell is wrong with my brain? Ever since I fell out of that damn trap! I've felt something was wrong! Nothing seemed right!
In just a blink of an eye, Tom's fingers returned to normal, as if nothing had happened!
He twisted the apple roll, turned it over and over, and stared at the little dessert with envy and jealousy in his eyes.

"Margaret is a good person and she is beautiful, much more beautiful than Naomi."

I don't understand these words, why?
Why is this guy talking about my bride? Commenting on my fiancée? Why?!

"Tom? What are you talking about?"

"That's exactly what it means, Walker." The county police officer put down the dessert and then talked about another thing: "In addition to this package, did you receive anything else?" "There are some commemorative tickets." I quickly searched through the previous emails and found the tickets I had received before.

When Tom saw the tickets, his expression changed noticeably.

"You said this is a ticket?"

I didn't quite understand what Tom meant, so I nodded.

Tom: "Walker, this is one thousand shillings."

I asked in surprise: "Is this money?"

Tom: "One thousand shillings in Austria."

He opened the other envelopes and gathered the tickets together.

"That's sixteen thousand shillings in total. Sam Walker, what's wrong with your brain? Is this too much pressure?"

There were a lot of ink stains on the brownish face of the ticket. I couldn't understand why the things Tom and I saw became two completely different things.

6◇9◇Book◇Bar

I also began to doubt myself. Could it be true, as Tom said—

—I'm crazy?! I'm already crazy?!

Tom took no notice of the tickets.

"What about the neighbors nearby? Have they received anything similar?"

"No." I didn't ask in detail, but judging from the new postman's driving route, my nearest neighbor is not at home this month and does not need to receive any mail.

"That's all for now." The county police officer stopped the recorder and took out the tape.

When he stood up to leave, Margaret grabbed me tightly.

——This broken palm scratched my thigh, tearing the flesh of my thigh through my work clothes and pants.
My face turned blue with pain, but I couldn't make a sound. The moment Tom took the diamond ring away, he unconsciously rolled up his sleeves, and I saw dark blood stains on his sleeves.

The almost black, sticky bloodstains were very similar to the bloodstains left by Margaret on the scriptures.

I almost lost my mind, was furious, and in an instant I grabbed the pistol at Tom's side.

——When I got it in my hands, I didn't even know how I did it.

The gun safety of this P220 was naturally released by my fingers, and then a bullet was ejected to ensure that there was a bullet in the chamber ready to fire.

I was breathing heavily and white smoke was coming out of my body. It felt like my heart was beating wildly. I seemed to be unable to take care of anything and didn't care about anything.

"Tom! You know where she is! Right?!"

The county police officer was stunned and slowly raised his hands.

"Mr. Walker."

"Don't talk nonsense to me! I want the truth!" I pulled the hammer smoothly and naturally, as if it was not the first time I touched this gun.

"Walker, you took the gun and attacked the police." Tom said kindly: "It's a felony. I know you are very sad, I know."

Swallowing my nervous saliva, I no longer trust the law enforcer in front of me—

——The blood on his cuffs came from Margaret! He must have received a similar package!

He kept asking me! He kept trying to comfort me! He wanted me to accept the fact that Margaret was dead!
He told me how difficult it was to find out all this and asked me not to ask any more questions!

This guy.
This guy might be the real murderer of Margaret!

I forced him to slowly back out the door.

"Mr. Walker." Tom nearly fell over the threshold, the gun in my hand locked on his head.

"Mr. Walker!"

"You're in a hurry, you're in a hurry. Walker"

"You must have received Margaret's body as well."

As soon as I said this, I could hardly control myself. My fingers dug into the bow guard and I was only one step away from the gun going off.

"I received it, too, Mr. Walker." Tom suddenly laughed: "I think it's a blessing. Margaret is so charming. She often comes to my house. She and Naomi talk about everything - occasionally helping with cooking."

"I have been watching her silently."

"I thought, how nice it would be if I could have such an understanding wife."

"What the hell are you talking about!?" I was so angry that the gun started to lose balance.

Officer Tom rolled up his sleeves, revealing the blood on his shirt. "What part did you get? I got half an upper arm - Naomi and I were both shocked at first."

"It's a tough feeling, really. I understand."

"But then, we didn't say anything. We were very hungry. Very hungry."

The police officer's expression was unexpectedly cold-blooded.

"She had an inexplicable charm. It might be a good thing if she died, Sam."

"Naomi and I have been childless, and life has been withering. Margaret has brought a little vitality - but she is going to marry. You want to take her away and hide this good neighbor, this good girl, in the rotten woods, in this shabby house?"

"Walker, are you too selfish? We are so hungry. Really hungry."

At this point, Officer Tom began to scratch his chin, feeling a kind of heartburn.

"My wife and I slowly squeezed out the blood from the arm and smeared it on the bread."

Speaking of this, Sheriff Tom was very excited, and the corners of his mouth curled higher and higher.

"After swallowing her, I felt like I was alive again"

"Walker! You really should give it a try."

“You should give it a try.”

There seemed to be a caterpillar crawling under Tom's face. I couldn't understand what this guy was saying at all.

The next second, he was about to grope behind him——

——I know, that’s the second gun of the Austrian county police.

The Vienna local police are fully equipped with weapons, and even if the criminals take their guns away in the first place, they have backup firepower to fight back.

I didn't hesitate and pulled the trigger!

"boom!--"

"boom!--"

"boom!--"

"boom!--"

The bullet shattered Tom's head and sent him sprawling on his back, onto the dirt floor below the porch steps.

I walked forward, fired two more shots into the head, and then fired into the twitching body.

"boom!--"

"boom!--"

My palms were numb from the recoil of the P220, and I didn't know why I could do all this.

I have never fired a gun or killed anyone. A month ago, I was just a postman in Neusiedl, living a similar life every day, repeating mechanical labor.

Officer Tom's hands were still behind his back. I kicked his body away with my gun and saw that he was holding a severed limb.

As he said -

——This part of the limb belongs to Margaret.

There is a tattoo of a butterfly with gold veins and black spots on her forearm. She hasn't asked a tattoo artist to take care of it for a long time, so these tattoos will gradually fade away naturally over time.

The blood from the severed arm had already drained out. It seemed like just as Sheriff Tom had said, the crazy couple squeezed out the blood from the severed arm, used it as jam to spread on bread, and then swallowed it into their stomachs!
I finally realized what I had done. Just now, I took Tom's gun and killed the county sheriff in little New Sidley!

"Oh my God."

(End of this chapter)