Wine and Gun

"Mr. Armalette," she said, frowning, "the front desk called and said someone was looking for you downstairs."

"Isn't it a reporter who got in?" Herstal asked with a frown.

Emma shook her head: "No, he said he was from the Forensic Medical Bureau, his name was Albarino Bacchus."

Faced with this kind of thing, even Herstal was stunned for a second, because he couldn't understand what the forensic doctor who was always smiling came to him. That smile made him feel uncomfortable, although it looked warm enough; but he was sure that the láng's smile was hidden beneath this soft, almost human skin.

But he had no other choice. He wisely did not leave the chief forensic officer of the Forensic Medical Bureau out of the door. When they went to court in the future, they would have to fight this person. So he could only say wearily, "Let him in."

A few minutes later, Albarino came in. He doesn't look like the type of person who likes to wear a suit, and he arrives in a casual jacket and jeans, out of place in this beautiful office building full of lawyers in suits - you know, anyone's tie could be here More expensive than his full suit.

But that didn't matter at all, he had beautiful chestnut-colored curly hair and soft mint green eyes, and he was the type that would captivate a little girl like Emma with a smile.

But since Herstal himself didn't eat this set, he stared coldly at this man carrying a handbag and wandering in like the Forensic Medicine Bureau didn't have to go to work. Before the other party could speak, he asked: "Is Officer Hardy who needs me to take a transcript again?"

"The reason I came is the same as the reason for the reporters who stayed outside the door all morning." Albarino tilted his head and looked at Herstal like a curious water bird.

Herstal said, "Can I ask you out?"

"No!" Albarino laughed, and the corners of his eyes squeezed a few charming, shallow folds because of this action, "You see, it's like this: the Sunday gardener never contacts anyone, he talks to the piano The teacher is different and will not send any provocative messages to the police. He has always displayed his works in public places, allowing randomly selected passersby to discover his works - but this time is different, he sent it on the victim's mobile phone Text, he chose to let you find the body."

"What does that mean?" Herstal asked sharply.

"No one knows, except the Sunday Gardener himself." Albarino smiled, not actually looking worried. "But obviously, the reporters out there thought it meant you were important to the gardener, and Bart was worried that you played an important role in this case that you didn't even know you knew about. Seriously, the Westland Police Department's People worry about you."

"But based on the available evidence, they are not strong enough to apply for a habeas corpus or something for me," Herstal pointed out.

"Exactly, so Bart suggested that those of us who follow up on this case have time to pay more attention to you, lest you really get kidnapped by the Sunday gardener and we don't even know." Albarino said with a smile, "So I've come to have lunch with you. The Forensics Bureau is quite close to your office. I think I'll have enough time to get back before the lunch break is over."

Herstal stared at the smiling man opposite him in disbelief, and there must have been a flash of "what did I do wrong to suffer this kind of crime" expression on his infrequently expressive face for a moment. He raised his voice slightly: "Doctor Bucks, don't you think you should inform that person before deciding who to have lunch with?"

"If I told you in advance what I wanted, would you still let me in?" Albarino asked.

...that's true.

Therefore, Rao Shihstal was also stuck for two seconds, and then he waved his hand helplessly: "Anyway, you may choose to come to the only place in the city without a real lunch during your lunch break, the people in the entire office building. At noon, I almost rely on the things in the vending machine downstairs, so we don’t have much time to rest in our line.”

"Actually, we are there too, and no one would want to buy instant food from the vending machine opposite the Corrupted Autopsy Room." Albarino replied calmly, "But, for someone who is in your profession. Salary-wise, it's a bit too miserable to spend lunchtime like that."

"If you want to do a good job, you will inevitably sacrifice a lot of time." Herstal answered noncommittally.

Albarino smiled, fumbled for a while in the tote bag, then lined up several crisper boxes on Herstal's table, and said to himself: "So I usually bring my own Go to the Forensic Office for lunch."

Herstal looked at Albarino as if he were an elk that had accidentally run into the middle of the interstate, and could never escape the fate of being hit by a car in the end.

The crisper boxes contained salmon sandwiches cut into neat triangles, pieces of fruit, and muffins wrapped in paper towels. As if not seeing what his expression meant, Albarino pushed the two boxes in his hand in front of him: "I prepared your share."

Herstal stared at him fixedly: "Albarino, we discussed it last time, and your sense of distance is indeed a problem when you get along with others."

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