Wine and Gun

The letter reads like this:

Ms. Molozer:

Clingfield, Our Lady of the Rosary Church—you know what I mean.

Merry Christmas to you; in addition, please give my regards to Officer Bart Hardy and wish him a speedy recovery.

- No signature.

Olga looked at the letter paper and smiled slowly, and it was only natural: the Westland pianist never signed the letter, in fact the name "Westland pianist" was given to him by the media. , he might not even like the name.

But as she had said to Bart Hardy last night, it seemed that it was indeed coming to an end.

Note:

[1] As with the 2016 Christmas copy, the title is the name of the Christmas song.

[2] The current setting is that the prison camera fails to capture the entrance of the prison doctor's office and Hardy's car, so that the pictures of Al coming out of the prison doctor's office and hiding in the trunk of Hardy's car were not captured. It was photographed, but because the face was not clear, the police did not expect Al to be among the prison guards.

Why is this set up? Because I'm worried Hardy would be more self-sufficient if he knew that Al escaped in his trunk.

Another: Olga may have guessed how Al got out, after all, she also went to the scene to watch, but she didn't tell Hardy.

Chapter 125 Aesthetics Victory 01

Christmas Eve was still a snowy night. The wind blew snowflakes over the white Baroque dome of the Church of Notre Dame de Rosa Rosae, and fell precariously like burnt ashes in the night.

Herstal Amalet drove around the sign on the main entrance of the church, which said no-entry under construction, and parked the stolen car under the dark shadow of the side walls of the church. The baroque church does not have the long windows inlaid with stained glass like the Gothic church. The windows of this church are high and small, opening under the high dome of the building, but you can still see a dazzling light from it.

Apparently, there are people in the church now. Herstal glanced down at the time in the car: it was not yet midnight, Christ had not been born, and the church bells had not yet rung—but their appointed time was almost here. Hestal got out of the car at this time, and stepped on the thick snow with his first foot. These cold and relentless crystals creaked under his feet, like the sound of bones shattering at the moment of death.

He stood in the snow and looked at the church not far away, the dark cross standing under the night, the wind was as cold and sharp as a knife, and the snow grains slashed his skin painfully.

——At this moment, the side door of the church was pushed open.

The wooden door with a history of hundreds of years and in disrepair was slowly pushed open, pulling a sharp creaking sound, and thousands of rays of light poured out from the door, illuminating a vast white snow field. Herstal saw Albarino Bacchus standing in the doorway, the lights behind him so bright that the radiance was so intense that it seemed like wings fell on his shoulders.

In the backlight, the other party was just a thin black silhouette. Herstal could not see Albarino's face, but guessed that there should be a smile on the other party's face at this moment. Albarino has always been like this. When he asked himself to meet in this church, Herstal probably thought about what was going to happen. Since this person has always regarded the world as his playground, this church should be his heart. planned stage.

So he walked towards Albarino, trudged through the thick snow on the ground, and finally was able to see each other clearly after getting closer-Albarino was wearing a formal suit, but in fact, before that, He Starr had never seen Albarino in formal attire when he was a witness at the trial—a dark blue single-breasted suit, a gray-blue satin tie with dark stripes and a matching scarf, a silk tie A snow-white embroidery thread is inserted into the lapel eye.

And most importantly...

"You dyed your hair blond?" Herstal frowned slightly.

He was already standing in front of the side door of the church. Albarino was standing on the first step in front of the door, slightly higher than him. The light in the room fell on his freshly dyed hair. A circle of holy halo, this hair color seems to make Albarino's eyes greener, the transparent green is simply inhuman.

Hearing that, Albarino smiled lightly, not in a hurry to answer this question, he leaned slightly and kissed the corner of Herstal's mouth, it was a scribbled and familiar kiss.

"That's the first thing you wanted to ask after seeing me?" Albarino said in a slightly brisk tone.

His lips were still warm and soft, and the smell of blood mixed with some faint floral scent on his skin. With these details Herstal could guess a little what he would see when he entered the church, a vague foreboding. Albarino held his wrist, his fingers tangled in the cuffs of his clothes.

Herstal was wearing an old jacket rummaged from a safehouse closet, soft enough to move around and inconspicuous among the crowd: he had been renting it in Westerland for a long time. Several different apartments with enough cash, a change of clothes, different knives, and even bleach for bloodstains in the room.

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