Wine and Gun

More on TV, about Bob Langdon...that 'Smith' must have lied to me: TV says Bob Langdon killed four more women after attempted murder of his ex-wife, my ex The case I saw at the motel front desk a few days ago. TV said Westland's chief forensic officer had been wronged and had been released the day before. The TV said that in order to reduce the vigilance of the murderer, the police did not publicly want Langdon, but issued a search warrant to the state police department, but the Westland pianist still found and killed him one step ahead of the police.

The Westland pianist still killed him one step ahead of the police - by taking advantage of me.

"Without you, I absolutely cannot guarantee that he will appear on the court on time."

Of course, there was a hint of irony in my ear when the indifferent man said this sentence, I didn't notice it at the time, but I recall it now.

I don't know what I'm doing or what I should be doing, and by the time I can react, I've called the call back - the so-called "professional agent" call - with shaking hands close to the ear.

The phone beeps busy, but my ears are full of frantic heartbeats: he can't answer the phone, right? He must be using a disposable phone, and he can't possibly put himself in—

"Hello?" said the man on the other side of the phone.

I shivered in front of the table, stumbling and stumbling when I opened my mouth, and a few words were squeezed out of my mouth. After I said it, I felt out of my mind: "I...I didn't expect you to answer."

"I expected you to have some questions about me," he replied calmly, sounding the same as when I had called him earlier. But now I know he nüè killed a man yesterday, he hung that man on the wall, opened his chest, broke his ribs, and took out his heart.

The blood must have flowed through his hands, hot, sticky, hands I thought belonged to the bastards in the office. Omg.

"You didn't think I might call the police?" I asked, trying to keep my voice as quiet as possible.

"Would you?" he asked rhetorically, seemingly pleasantly, in a cold, shrill, cringing voice. "You're a hunter, and you should have that instinct to know that you shouldn't be overpowering against the unknown."

—He's right, I know, so my hands are shaking uncontrollably. But then I thought of old Hunter's frantic eyes, and the words of the female profiler in the paper.

"But you're going to get caught eventually," I said, not sure if I really had the guts.

"Perhaps so," replied the Westland pianist equivocally, "but nonetheless, with my payment to you, I think at least we won't see each other again after that."

We never actually "meeted" and I had a wild idea in my head that made me want to refute him, but didn't say it in the end.

There was something on the pianist's side. I heard a vague male voice, and I didn't understand what he said, but the pianist paused for a while, and then replied "yes" - his tone was still stiff and sarcastic. Disgust and disgust seem to be a natural part of his voice, but it doesn't really seem disgusting or contemptuous.

I almost laughed out of the fantasy in my head: Could the Westland pianist still have a roommate?

Or to put it another way: Are these demons really human? Can they live like normal people, allowing themselves to open at least a portion of their hearts to others?

After all - do they really have a heart?

"Goodbye, Mr. Todd," said the pianist, ending the conversation unquestionably. "Looks like it's time for my breakfast."

With a click, the phone hangs up.

I sat there for a while, then had to admit that he was right: we should never have the chance to meet again.

Note:

[1] There really is a profession of bounty hunter, and it is legal in most states in the US.

As mentioned in the previous note, a suspect who is unable to pay bail can pay ten percent of the bail to a professional agent, who will then take charge of the bail and bail the suspect (usually with their own property as collateral). But if the suspect flees before the trial, the court will withhold the full amount of bail.

To avoid this loss, professional agents hire bounty hunters to bring suspects back and pay a percentage of the bail.

A bounty hunter does not need a warrant to arrest a fugitive, as long as they carry a copy of the bail bond signed by the prisoner and a professional agent, even without having to read the Miranda Rights before arresting the fugitive.

Chapter 19 Huáng Golden Rain 01

Herstal heard a knock on the door.

At that time, he had just returned home, and the lights had not been turned on. He just threw the blood-stained coat and gloves that he took off into a bag, tied them, and temporarily placed them in the corner. His fingers were still stained with the remnants of dried-up liquid, and there was a trace of blood in the air, subtle and hard to hide, proof of sin.

He paused, and looked in the direction of the door—the door obscured the sound of the overwhelming rain outside, obscuring the noise strangely. However, with his knife still in its sheath, he should have been safe.

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