Wine and Gun

In the end, the dàngdàng team stopped at the door of the mortuary. The forensic chief stood beside Hardy and handed him a bunch of keys tremblingly. When he picked out the one from the morgue, his hands were shaking. Knocked the pile of keys to the sugar palm.

Tommy was squeezed at the back of the crowd by a group of policemen with live ammunition and body armor.

Officer Hardy slowly unlocked the morgue with the key, then gestured to the officers behind him. Immediately afterwards, with the gun in his hand, he slammed open the door of the mortuary with his shoulder on the ground.

The pistol in his hand crossed in - the lights in the morgue were on, pale and bright, but there seemed to be no object he was looking for.

Tommy was initially blocked behind the crowd, unable to see what was going on in the morgue, but all the police officers fell silent suddenly, looking directly into the pale depths of the morgue, as if looking at something extremely unacceptable. Something to believe.

A faint rusty salty taste slowly floated out along the gap between the crowd.

"Fuck, God," Tommy heard the usually calm Officer Hardy say incoherently, "Christ."

Tommy shuffled in the back of the crowd, the kind of coincidence he would never be able to be grateful for, and he was finally at an angle where he could glimpse the inside of the morgue, and—then he saw it.

"You shouldn't be here," Bates said, frowning.

"Should you be here? When did you researchers take responsibility for calling out Miranda rights?" Olga retorted, "I know you're doing it for my own good, but please be lenient with me - I would have Just sleep deprivation: I thought I was just going to be disturbed by a bastard in McCard tonight."

Although, strictly speaking, she was disturbed by McCard last night—it was past five in the morning—no one cared about such details.

The two of them jumped out of the car at about the same time, apparently receiving news from Hardy. The car was parked in the private driveway in front of Albarino's house, alongside two other police cars with flashing lights.

The rain had dwindled to the point that only the occasional ripples in the puddles made it clear that the rain had not stopped. The ground was moist and soft, and the air was filled with a fresh and bitter taste that is characteristic of rain - and Bates was busy wearing gloves while running with the police. After hearing that Herstal had been rescued, he thought that They could finally have a slightly calmer night.

But obviously not.

"He must have left before the rain became lighter. I paid attention to the tire marks on the way we came. There were only some indistinct traces soaked in the rain, which had no judgment value." When they ran to the door, "Bart was right on the phone, there's no way he's still inside," Bates said to the four police officers who were on the verge of an enemy.

One of the leading police officers nodded, and then he waved to both Olga and Bates to step back, and then cautiously reached out to push the door: the front door of Albarino's house was left open, immersed in a sight of Very evil dark shadow.

The door was pushed open silently, and several police officers sneaked in with guns and flashlights, inspected the entire room in an orderly manner, and loudly informed each other about the safety of the room. Bates had searched Albarino's home the last time Albarino was suspected of killing Sarah Aardman. He knew the layout inside quite well, so he quickly went in and fumbled to the wall. light switch.

He turned on the light with a snap, and at the same time, Olga stepped into the room.

She heard Bates open his mouth and say, "My God."

There are obvious signs of fighting in the interior, a glass picture frame on a cabinet against the wall fell on the floor and shattered on it; the fireplace has been extinguished, leaving only a pile of black coal and fresh ashes; a table near the fireplace There was a bottle of white wine on it...or rather, there used to be a bottle of white wine, and now that the bottle and glass are all knocked to the ground, it's easy to imagine what Albarino was doing when he was attacked.

And other things in the house can prove what happened after he was attacked.

Because: the wall of the entire living room was covered with printing paper by the attacker, and those color-printed pictures covered the wallpaper below, covering the room with a hideous new skin. At first glance, most of the color-printed pictures are of wounds, all kinds of ferocious wounds, splattered blood, and the pale skin where the blood is condensed.

But there are some-

"The murderer sexually assaulted him," Olga's eyes fell on some of the specific photos, which seemed to have an abnormal penchant for photographing people's private parts, "apparently, the murderer attacked him and then sexually assaulted him. "

Her voice is surprisingly smooth, one can imagine why Lavasa McCard insists she's unfit for the job at BAU. Bates grunted painfully in his throat, as if begging her to shut up.

The faint bloody smell in the room was mixed with a fruity aroma of wine, which more or less suppressed the fishy smell, but Bates still felt nausea, which was rarely seen in the many years after he joined CSI.

The floor in the center of the entire living room is full of blood stains that have dried up and have not dried up because they have accumulated too much. Most of them have solidified into pools. It is conceivable that when they flowed out, the victim was lying on the ground and unable to move. , and the rest were scratched with long, thrilling scratches on the solid wood floor, disorderly and chaotic, woven together one after another, and looking at them, you can imagine the traces of the human body trying to struggle.

Search [Book Reading Assistant] Official address: www.kanshu

zhushou.com Read millions of popular books for free without ads for life!