Wine and Gun

So to put it bluntly, Herstal is fooling him.

Chapter 11 A Confession to Persephone 05

The next week was generally smooth for Herstal.

"Roughly" is a vague term when you've had two of your biggest clients murdered in the previous seven days, got involved in a shooting, and then got kidnapped for ransom in an abandoned factory with a tasteless man The various incidents of a scuffle, even the daily affairs of gang lawyers can be regarded as warm and smooth.

Sergeant Hardy and his "serial killing team dealing with the mental health of law enforcement officers" may have been genuinely concerned about Herstal's situation, so, while he limped to the A\u0026H law firm every day At work, Olga and Albarino really took turns in his sight every day, and even once CSI's Bethes Schwandner came to his office without embarrassment. .

Albarino, who usually showed up at each lunch hour with his glass food box, said the forensic doctor had made inappropriate remarks about what he had said that night in the Jones case, and what he had tortuously offered to Herstal. Keeping the accusations silent, he just has the ability to innocently reduce everything to "Ah, I really just want to flirt with you" or something like that.

Herstal didn't know what to say, and in fact, why he didn't put the guy on the list of rejected visitors was an unsolved mystery. He refused to admit that he was almost used to hearing the frivolous laughter of the other party talking and laughing with Emma at the door when he went out at noon, and also refused to admit that the eyes of the other party kneeling on the ground and looking at him really made his fingers itch.

Miss Olga Molozze, who teaches at Westland State University, is more irregular, picking when she has no classes to teach at the university, and occasionally with Herstal. Share for lunch or dinner.

Unlike Albarino, she tends to take Herstal to lunch at one of those near the A\u0026H law firm, where the price oscillates between unacceptably cheap and unacceptably expensive. .

On Friday night, Albarino was said to be working overtime at the forensic bureau, while Olga ditched her bar night schedule and dragged Herstal to an exorbitantly expensive French restaurant.

Rather, Herstal had never met people like Albarino and Olga in the first half of his life. He had very little personal contact with colleagues and clients, and he almost never got along except for the banquets he had to attend. Dine out with others. This week, he has eaten with others almost as often as he has gone to dinner parties in the previous year combined.

Albarino Bacchus is clearly in the control of distance... no control at all, Herstal simply suspects that this is an inherent personality defect, otherwise it can only be said that Albarino Live to torture him.

Olga, on the other hand, is a completely different type, just like the restaurant she's picking now: they're surrounded by cramped young couples, flirtatious cheaters, and businessmen who hide their knives in laughter. After many people enter a restaurant of this level, the word "dinner" has taken on the color of an inevitable social task.

But Herstal was sure that the only reason Olga would bring him to the store was because she thought it was delicious. They were sitting here, misunderstood as a couple by all the customers and waiters, but the man in front of him looked at him with a pure, unpersonal look.

When Olga looked at other people, that look came out of her eyes involuntarily: it was as if she was looking at a cat or a lion in a cage, what kind of species they were she was completely uninterested in, She was just waiting quietly for what they would do; she had no intention of raising them, nor would she reach out to touch their heads, but was just watching the moment when their sharp teeth gnawed at the necks of others.

"Then," Herstal's thoughts swept past all of the above during dessert time, still spitting out what they were talking about, "Westland pianist and Sunday gardener, Who do you think is more dangerous?"

— of course they had nothing else to talk about, and to put it bluntly, these people took turns showing up at Herstal's only because Hardy was worried that the Sunday gardener had his eye on him. When they meet, they can only talk about their work without embarrassment. Fortunately, Olga's work is really interesting.

Olga absentmindedly poked a small piece of dakwaz in front of him with a fork, and it looked terribly sweet. She was silent for a while, and then said, "Most people will think that a pianist is more scary, because he is more...bào cruel, crazy, people will think so."

"People would think that?" Herstal pointed out, hearing the other side's voice over the line.

Olga glanced at him, but she didn't seem to be looking at him completely, her eyes flickering lightly in places where there was nowhere to go. Half of her mind was on Dakwaz in front of her, and the other half didn't know where she was floating.

"What drives him to commit the crime is his inner desire," Olga inserted a small piece of cake into his mouth and chewed it slowly, the other hand resting on his chin, "either he succumbed to himself to slaughter them, or he is consumed by his own desires—no choice for a pianist. But that's not the case with the Sunday gardener."

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