Wine and Gun

At this time, he hasn't figured out what to do with this thing, but he has always been a prepared person.

"I think people walking around with my fingerprint model might be even worse, and I'm flattered," Albarino retorted.

Hestal looked extremely calm, and it didn't look like he was being controlled by others now. He showed a sarcastic smile and asked meanly, "Do you think I killed her?"

The tone of his voice could almost make anyone with a weak will self-doubt, but Albarino was obviously not one of them.

"...It's obviously not you." Albarino's voice was very low, like sometime last night. He pressed his knees on the table without hesitation, and turned over onto the table, putting his weight on Herstal's waist. His right hand was vacant in the air, as if he was grasping something in the air, and the other hand was slowly pressing down on Herstal's neck.

Herstal shrank slightly uncomfortably, his pulse beating wildly between Albarino's fingers. Following his movements, Albarino saw him tilt his head slowly, and there was a small, white, aged scar above his throat that looked a bit like a bite mark.

"I know it wasn't you," Albarino said slowly, looking him in the eyes, "Bart showed me pictures of the scene, and it was obvious—the way the blood was running, the struggles left in the underground mud. Traces...the murderer swooped down on Sarah and rode on her waist like that, with one hand around her neck—"

Slowly, slowly, he tightened his fingers, and he heard the soft fricative sound of the air being spit out with difficulty, the other's fingers pressed tightly against the table, the knuckles turning white, but not moving. Albarino looked down at the light blue eyes, and continued to press hard on his hands, sinking his fingers into the soft skin between the other's throats until he felt the other's breathing completely blocked.

Albarino understands this process: the lack of oxygen in various organs and tissues caused by the obstruction of breathing can stop a person's heartbeat in just one minute.

How easy it is to kill someone at such a moment.

And Albarino enjoyed the process of the opponent choking gradually between his fingers.

- He let go of his hand suddenly, and heard Herstal shudder and take a heavy breath.

Albarino's fingers were still loosely wrapped around Herstal's neck, and his right hand, which had been held high before, fell on his chest, pressing on his chest at the border of the suit vest and tie. His heart was beating fast.

"Just like that, he pressed her to the ground," Albarino said slowly, pressing his hand slightly on Herstal's chest, where a bunch of mint leaves lay bloody on Sarah's chest. "Stabbed her several times in the chest - with her right hand; repeatedly stabbing a victim with a knife is a very sexual method, and it's worth noting. But I know it's not you, you're holding the knife in your left hand, right?"

Herstal stared closely at Albarino, his pupils slightly dilated. Then he suddenly smiled, a defiant, grim smile.

"I'm asking for a reference to my Fifth Amendment rights," he said in a low, slow voice.

Albarino was naturally willing to take this as a small triumph of his own. He moved his hand from the opponent's neck and put it on the table above his shoulders. He straightened up neatly, and then suddenly and skillfully twisted his waist without warning, grinding the opponent's lower body.

—He heard a snort of exasperation between Herstal's lips.

"Le petit mort, it's not particularly unexpected." Albarino said in a pleasant tone that was almost vicious, feeling the heat of the other party's clothes, "You really will be hardened by suffocation. The type to get up, Mr. Armalite."

"At a time like this, I really don't know whether I should defend you or sue you for sexual harassment," Herstal sneered coldly.

Albariño laughed and slid off the table to sit in his original position, completely ignoring the bulge in Herstal's trousers. He replied with a smile: "If we learn to make ourselves happier, then we'd better not cause pain to others, and don't have the idea of ​​torturing others - if you don't want to face this embarrassing situation, you shouldn't be gān yesterday. matter."

"Do you have to say 'you asked for it' in such a roundabout way?" asked Herstal, frowning, and he slid off the table and began to sort himself out of his suit as if nothing had happened. folds.

"I think I'm being merciful," Albarino shrugged, "given that you must have followed Sarah yesterday, witnessed the scene of her murder, and then not only did you not call the police, but you took it easy. The blame was on me- tell me, why did you follow her? If she hadn't happened to be killed, would you still plan to kill her yourself, because it's better to blame me because she's dead?"

Herstal looked at him silently.

"Forget it, I know you won't admit it." Albarino waved his hand.

Hestal heard the screams, which were very small, as if they had been pressed down by Qiáng. He was familiar with the sound, the low choked sob from the heavy pressure on the throat, the sound of blood gurgling from the veins. When he was standing in the shadow of the alley and looked in that direction, he saw a flash of sword light.

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