Wine and Gun

In fact, he actually fits the profile: Herstal is between thirty-five and forty-five years old, wealthy, and his work as a gang lawyer gives him access to a variety of undisclosed crimes. It is very likely that Left-handed. On top of that, he's probably the only person who fits the profile who knows about a possible "Richard Norman attempt to murder his brother."

Herstal looked at him now, not avoiding eye contact, and apparently ignorant of the thoughts that were whirling in his mind. He shook the transparent bag he was holding in his hand, which apparently contained those glass food containers from Albarino before - he was now carrying the bag with his left hand, because he had to use his right hand to open the door just now, which was damn reasonable. This man is either not really left-handed, or is a master of willpower in disguise.

"I'm going to the hospital to see Davis, he hasn't woken up yet, but I heard his wife is there too, so many things have happened, we have to talk after all," the lawyer said, still looking very calm, "By the way, Brought this to you, you forgot in my office."

"Let's put it on the table over there," replied Albarino, who apparently didn't mind leaving the food utensils temporarily in the dissection room, hoping that when he brought food to Herstal now, he would Don't mind, "By the way - if you have time in the evening, Olga asks me out for a drink, are you going?"

Herstal's movement towards the table came to a halt, he turned around, and raised his eyebrows at Albarino with an expression of extreme disapproval.

"Come on, I'll really be angry if you do the 'feeling of distance with people' again." Albarino said in a tone that was not angry at all, he put on the smile that little girls eat the most. On his own face, although there is no hope that the other party will submit, "Seriously, we should be friends: after we were swept away by the same gun?"

Tommy tried his best to hide his figure in the corner, as if the pubic bone on the stainless steel plate was alluring. He pricked up his ears to listen to the two of them.

Herstal was silent for a while, so long that Albarino began to wonder if the other party had already put himself on the other party's assassination list if he was really a Westland pianist.

He won't give up this guess - he thinks of ways to confirm this guess, there is no loss for him, if the other party is not, it is still his prey.

Then Albarino realized that he actually wanted this person to be a pianist, because he realized how interesting that fact was.

Seriously, a normal person shouldn't be as aggressive as himself when he suspects someone he knows is a serial killer - but he really can't control himself and makes things that are already crazy even crazier His nature, even if he was already a Sunday gardener.

As Shakespeare said, self-confidence is man's greatest enemy.

And the other party—perhaps, the unsolved human being, the inexplicable murderer, the lurking monster—looked straight into his eyes, and in the end did not raise any objection to the word "friend".

"If it's not too late when I get back from the hospital," Herstal compromised, "you can give me the address first."

After eight o'clock in the evening, Olga was sitting at the table drinking her favorite pastel-colored cocktail, except that the name of the bar was "I want to resign" and the name of this cocktail was "Go. Aside from your fucking dead line", it's a really pleasing scene.

And Albarino was a little surprised that Herstal would actually join them, who was wearing a custom suit and walking through a row of lights that danced with demons as if he had never been in a similar environment in his life - and it may have been. .

And then this guy insists on drinking unflavored juice drinks in a bar like this because he's coming by car and he's seeing clients tomorrow. But since this is a shop that does not allow anyone under the drinking age to enter, the name of the juice drink is - of course it can only be called - "I have a little jījī".

— Herstal's wide-eyed expression when he ordered that drink is unforgettable.

It's possible that they got into this situation just out of some unspeakable bad taste in Olga, and no one can really blame her anyway, although she is, as Albarino said, very annoying. Albarino fiddled with the glass of beer and asked, "How is your employee?"

"Not very well, his heart stopped once on the way to the hospital and is still in the ICU." Herstal watched him quietly from the edge of the glass, "but at least he doesn't have to be like his wife. That poor woman was completely devastated after her daughter was kidnapped as well."

Poor woman—he said, with enough pity in the lilting syllables before the end of the word, that Albarino could not be sure, in such a dim and noisy environment, if that was a sheer hypocrisy. The man frowned slightly, looking worried enough.

Albarino thought about the question he had asked him earlier in the day, before being interrupted by the sudden sound of gunfire.

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