Wine and Gun

Albarino put his fingers on his waist, as if holding the last string that had not yet been snapped.

When the long night is over, they will be back to normal.

Note:

[1] The portion quoted by Albarino in this article is not the description of the Lotus Eater in The Odyssey, but comes from Alfred Tennyson's poem "The Lotus Eater".

In the afternoon, they did reach a piece of land,

The hour here seems to be always afternoon.

The sluggish air floats around the shore,

As if in a sleepy dream, breathing slightly.

...

The lotus eaters from the island came and surrounded the boat

These melancholy men have tender eyes,

The crimson glow against their dark faces.

They bring magic lotus branches,

Distribute flowers and fruits to distant visitors,

Whoever it is, as long as you taste the lotus seeds,

In his ears, the surging surging of the sea làng

Immediately go far away, and become the hum of the other side;

...

They sank into sweet dreams, dreaming of the motherland,

Dreaming of wives, children and slaves, but forever

No more oar and helm, the sea is weary,

They are tired of moving the desolate ocean.

So someone said, "We're not going back home anymore."

So everyone sang in unison; "Hometown on the island

On the other side of the vast ocean, we don't want to flow làng anymore. "

Chapter 92 Lotus Eater 03

When Albarino opened his eyes, it was already faint.

He was lying in an unfamiliar room. All he could see was the moldy ceiling and peeling wallpaper. The glass of the nearby window was covered with a thick layer of dust. Outside the window, there was a shadow of some kind of towering tree branch hanging down.

The blood-colored sunlight outside the window was pouring in through the thin and mottled glass, dyeing everything in the room with a thick layer of blood, red enough to make people panic. Albarino twisted on the thin bed, and found that his wrists were tied to the metal guardrails on both sides of the bed by nylon ties—this bed was the one used in the hospital, with both sides on it. There was a dusty IV pole standing beside the low guardrail.

Albarino could feel the pain in the back of his head, and there was a wound there, no worse than the stitches left by the pianist's invasion of his house, but it was still bleeding, and now the hair in his head was hurting. It clings to his scalp itchy, creating an unpleasant, hard tactile sensation—other than that, there's a pinhole on the back of his hand, a tiny bruise.

Albarino took a slow breath.

"Herstal," he said.

He knew the man was standing somewhere in the dark corner of his vision, and that must have been the case, this guy did sometimes rely on the darkness or something to give him a sense of security, the day they went to see Aurelie Delphine. It was touched by him.

So Albarino heard footsteps unsurprisingly, and Herstal Armalette came out from somewhere hidden in the blood-like shadow, still looking well-dressed and meticulous. Obsessive-compulsive disorder generally ensures that everything around you is in order.

But he looked pale, and the deep shadows under his eyes still did not fade away. Herstal's eyes fell on Albariño, and he showed a contemplative look, as if he had never seen Albarino lying in front of him so defenseless.

He nodded lightly and replied, "Yes."

seven hours ago.

It was only less than half past nine when Albarino entered the house, the weather was fine, and there was still a trace of cháo after the rain in the air. As soon as he entered, he saw Herstal sitting on the sofa with an open bottle of white wine in front of him, and a half glass of wine that was basically untouched in his hand - it was only morning, even if it was Herstal. Starr didn't look drunk, which was rare enough for him.

Albarino paused as he entered the room. He sniffed the alcohol in the air and asked with a smile, "Bacchus grapes? Made in England?"

"What's so strange about that?" Herstal asked, his voice still calm and indifferent.

"You don't seem to buy wine at home before you know me," Albarino said in a casual tone, as if he didn't know what he meant. Buying wine is not surprising, but the type of wine and the metaphorical meaning of the name are the real weird parts when rich people like to have a few bottles in their mansion.

Albarino paused, then added: "Besides, today is Friday."

——The implication is beyond words: Are you not working?

And Herstal perfectly ignored his roundabout cues. Herstal still looked tired when he looked at him, but his eyes were unexpectedly bright. His voice was calm, and he couldn't tell whether he was angry or angry. He asked, "How is the situation on your side?"

The situation is obviously not very good. Yesterday, Albarino, who was the chief medical examiner, stood before the jury and confessed that he had accepted bribes and changed the evidence, which basically means that he admitted that he had committed perjury. A crime of this magnitude cannot be trivial in any way.

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