Wine and Gun

"You're the most shocking hobby I've ever met," Herstal said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, of course you think so, Mr. Pianist." Albarino replied sarcastically, half kneeling on the ground and tearing open the black plastic wrapping around the body with a knife, revealing the pale face inside - Billy's The complexion was extremely pale from the blood loss, as he had been put in the trunk on his side, with this gore-like corpse spot deposited on one side of his cheek; the corpse was fully formed, and he remained in a stiff, huddled body. posture, like a fetus in the womb.

"It's very bad, his abdomen has begun to swell, and the human stomach is full of bacteria that are particularly prone to corruption." Albarino snorted, and then he glanced at Herstal, patiently Explanation: "I usually kill them at the right time, especially if I want to preserve the skin of the corpse. At that point, I don't want to and can't spend a week or two decorating them because..."

"Because they will rot. As long as you keep things other than the bones, they will rot sooner or later." Herstal said calmly, looking down at Albarino and the corpses, and already understood in his heart, "Corruption, corruption. The discoloration of the skin afterwards: you don’t want to let these things spoil the beauty of what you want to present.”

"Exactly," said Albarino, smiling. "Seriously, that's distressing. Bloodletting will lighten the color of the corpse as much as possible, but unless I turn the whole place into a cold store—" He waved casually all over the room, "They're always going to rot. But really working at low temperatures seems to be less of a challenge, finishing them before they're defeated by these germs and the laws of nature, making them look their best. Perfect form, isn't it the most challenging part?"

"It was fleeting," whispered Herstal.

"Isn't that what life is all about?" retorted Albarino happily, "everything is fleeting: life, time, art, even beauty itself, the invincible and indescribable thing that is always there. It's destroying us every moment. And that's the funniest part of the whole thing—"

He cut open the plastic sheet wrapped around the second corpse, and an even stronger smell of rancidity rushed out, and the bloody face of Anthony Sharp appeared in front of them.

"Because every cut that is cut can't heal, and every part that's taken can't be restored, it's not even like a painting, it's more like a sculpture: you just keep taking things away, you can never add them back. Come back." Albarino's voice was softer, like a whisper to a child. His eyes were still fixed on Sharp's face, though it was nothing but a shapeless mass of flesh no matter what.

"You've only got one chance," said Herstal slowly, who had thoroughly understood what Albarino meant, or, perhaps, he was getting close to the heart of what Sunday gardeners are obsessed with.

"That's what life is like." Albarino let out a slight sigh, "as a friend I once had a relationship with likes to quote - 'Beauty is difficult'."

Albarino's fingers had the right amount of strength to help Herstal knead his stiff shoulder muscles and his particularly sore neck, knowing that this man was as likely to break his neck as he was to massage him. , he might actually be able to sleep peacefully.

Herstal was wrapped in a steaming mist, the water vapour clinging to his warm skin. Then Albarino broke this enron himself, saying quite sincerely, "There's no rubber duck in your bathroom."

... As I said earlier, this person is a neurotic.

"Sorry?" Herstal asked shyly.

"I think that thing is very interesting, and there are bubble baths of various colors. Isn't bathing just for enjoyment?" Albarino replied happily, his fingers continued to slide up, and gently stroked him sun xué.

"The two corpses lying on the porch might be interesting to you, too. What are you going to do with them?" Herstal asked sarcastically.

They are well aware that they are now in a dilemma - Sharp's body obviously shows the characteristics of a pianist's crime, but recently the pianist has committed too many crimes, which has also attracted a lot of attention. Although there are many people in the WLPD who stumbled on Officer Hardy in this case, it is very likely that they will not be able to withstand the pressure if this goes on. In the end, the FBI is invited to handle the case of the pianist, and they really don't need to The workaholic executive at BAU was involved again.

Not to mention, Billy died together with Anthony Sharp, involving an old case between the two of them, which is all too reminiscent of the Anonymous Mutual Aid that Billy attended.

"I know what you're thinking," Albarino said softly behind him, the corners of his mouth brushing the wet skin of Herstal's neck, "you're thinking, either destroy the two of them until no one can find them. To such an extent, otherwise the scars on the corpse are disguised as accidents, in short, the police can't think of the pianist - as a forensic doctor, I can tell you that the latter idea is basically impossible: Westland no more You can put the blame on the murderer, and the scars on his body can't be made by a manslaughter guy."

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