Wine and Gun

So of course I'll come to Westland, which is home to some of the nation's most famous serial killers, and I'm hoping that one day I'll actually be able to open up their hearts, and I'm hoping that these mysteries will be revealed to us ordinary people -- and Meanwhile, McCard will think I'm complicit in the tabloids, ha.

Hit by this (though I can't say I'm surprised, that's McArd), I was going to drag Albarino out for a drunken break tonight, and we could bring his sweetheart lawyer if he wanted, though Lawyers are not willing to.

The above plan also failed.

But maybe some god in heaven who doesn't know exists (I don't think it exists) is finally starting to weep over the hapless way I started my day, and the Sunday gardener is at it again.

When describing this event, I can never say "something good happened at last", because dead people are obviously not a good thing. It's obviously not a good thing for the gardener to put a skull of flowers on Herstal's desk, at least to put himself in Herstal's shoes, it is true.

But this is indeed the most important development of the past few years, and there is something new and unfinished in the modus operandi of the Sunday gardener, which I have reason to believe was induced by Herstal. The Gardener is still a young, malleable serial killer, and I don't know where his style will go from today, but the more he changes, the more he reveals to us.

I tried to console Bart with this theory, but he obviously didn't think so. Today was all bad news for poor Bart: the Sunday gardener had invaded Herstal's office, but apparently completely destroyed the surveillance system in the office before entering, and the surveillance probes on the street outside. Also got nothing.

Of course he was covered in clouds, and Al had almost nothing to do, the skull was treated so cleanly that it looked like a fake.

The news came from Betts before get off work in the afternoon, when Herstal finally found time to go to WLPD to take his unknowable number of transcripts in the past two weeks. In my opinion, Bart doesn't need to send him a visitor pass every time, just give him one.

It was Bart who answered the call, and he and I were sitting at the other end of the table in the interrogation room when he answered the call, and Al was not at the police station. Bart's expression was truly pitiful when he put down the phone. I haven't seen him show such a tangled expression since the bomber went on a rampage in the city the year before last.

He said: "The gardener's skull belonged to Richard Norman's deputy - you know him too, Mr. Armalette."

So here's the thing: in two weeks, the Westland pianist killed one, the Sunday gardener killed two, and we may have had some peak of killer inspiration; and these three dead, Hess Tarr knew it all.

At this time, I understood Bart's expression: it was the expression he wanted to apply for the FBI Witness Protection Program for Herstal.

Herstal himself had a small, surprised look on his face, probably the most his poker face allowed him. And at the time I said something that didn't make much sense -- not that I wanted to reflect -- and I said, "That's a shame."

Herstal said politely: "Sorry?"

Then I had to explain to him because I had planned to ask Richard Norman's deputy if Richard had any plans to murder his brother. I've always felt that the Westland pianist wouldn't just set up a "Cain" theme casually, and given his criminal record, he might indeed be more inclined to punish his victims with pre-existing crimes.

When I said that, Bart had a somewhat remorseful look on his face, maybe he just remembered this too. It's not his fault, we've all been caught up in the Gardener's "Abel" case lately, and questioning witnesses because of a criminal-style conjecture is a bit of a fuss, at least the procedure is difficult to follow.

To put it bluntly, this is just a guess.

When we were face-to-face with unnecessary sighs, Herstal was watching us, the kind of lawyer-like scrutiny, which was quite troubling.

"It's a viable idea," he said slowly, in a tone that always made me think he was chewing on the substance of those words, "but sadly, I've never heard Richard mention anything like content, and I suspect his deputy may not know the details of this either."

But it was too late to say anything, the head of his deputy lay on Herstal's table this morning.

"Just in case Richard actually tried to murder his brother and his deputy knew, that would be interesting," I said, and Bart told me later in private that I sounded like I was really looking forward to things. Like being so funny, maybe I'm being too obvious.

And Herstal just looked at me with that exploratory expression, giving the illusion that I was standing in front of the blackboard answering a question.

So I went on: "Then I have to suspect that the Sunday gardener is helping the pianist eliminate evidence that the two of them knew each other. Or at least they both knew each other after the Cain and Abel affair. acknoledged."

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