White City Murder Expo

Everything is screwed up by you.Sue Seides.I said to myself, next time Susan will never say hello to you again.

After parting with her, I stayed in the rental bookstore for a while until I was chased away by the clerk.It's getting late, it's time for some wine.I was sitting at the bar counter, and the turntable with Italian songs was playing the same song in a loop. Every time I sang to the end, there was a nearly five-second pause.Dizzy, eyes swollen so hard to open, faint feeling of nausea.I want to go home.Jokes or not, I miss my couch.

Just as I was about to leave, the Inspector and his rambunctious friends walked into the bar, and they saw me.If I walk away now, it seems like I can't avoid it, I don't want to do that, I just have to bite the bullet and sit where I am, there is nothing worse than that.Out of the corner of my eye, the inspector pointed at me and said something to the people around him, who then laughed and made obscene gestures.

My hand holding the cup gradually tightened, and I turned my head away from them, and those laughter kept drilling into my ears.After a while they stopped talking about me, I was still sitting there, the bartender came over, as if wanting to say something; I glanced at him, he froze for a moment, and offered to refill me a glass of ice water.

After about two hours, the voice over there became quieter, and the inspector's voice was no longer heard. This guy had already passed out on the table drunk.They seemed to be leaving, and there was another quarrel at the checkout, and I heard the boss say "it's okay, it's okay", two of them stayed and carried away the drunken inspector, and the others left separately.I watched them all push the door and go out. I paid the bill and followed, far behind.

I saw them send the inspector home, find the key under the flower pot at the door, and open the door. It seems that this kind of thing happens often.An old bachelor living alone, going out to get drunk every day, and then letting his servants send him home, is really sad.After the group of people left, I turned into the bathroom of the inspector's house through the side window, poked my head out and saw him leaning on the sofa with his back to me, purring.

I walked out of the bathroom lightly, my heart was beating fast, my hands were shaking slightly, a voice in my head was yelling for me to stop being crazy and go out the same way, honestly I don’t know why I’m here.

I walked into his bedroom and saw a box next to the bed with a lot of medicines. I picked them up and found that I couldn’t read the words at all. The room was very quiet, only my own breathing, and my right ear was ringing. , no matter how I swallowed, it didn't ease.I was dizzy and leaned against the wall for a while before my vision became clear again: it was aspirin.I peeled one and stuffed it into my mouth, and swallowed dryly with difficulty, the bitter taste of the tablet remained on the base of my tongue.There were also epilepsy medications in the box, some scopolamine, and I read the instructions carefully to make sure I remembered correctly, and a vague plan began to take shape.

I took some anisodamine tablets, took them to the kitchen, crushed them on a cutting board with the handle of a knife, and boom.Boom.Boom.Some debris flew out and I don't know where it fell.

"Who?" A vague call came from the living room, I stopped what I was doing, turned my head to look outside, and he asked again, "Kurt, is that you?"

"Yes." I replied.Then there was a silence.

I took a glass of water and swept the powder and debris into the glass. The overdose did not dissolve in the water, and the whole glass of cloudy water looked dirty and ominous, and anyone with a semblance of sanity would refuse to drink it.

I took the glass of water and walked out of the kitchen. The inspector was lying on the sofa, muttering something, his eyes were completely cloudy.I put the glass of water into his hand, helped him hold the glass, and brought it to his mouth.He smacked his lips in confusion, opened his mouth obediently and took a sip, his Adam's apple rolled and he had already swallowed it.Then he pushed me away, coughed violently, stuck out his tongue and retched.It's probably disgusting, I know.I carefully placed the cup on the tea table and sat opposite him, my head was dizzy, my right ear was still ringing, and my left ear was the detective's heart-piercing cough.

"Why are you?" He yelled at me after a while.Our Inspector seemed a lot more awake, and my aspirin didn't hurt my head as much.

"It feels like floating in a boat, right?" I asked. "How do you feel now?"

Hyoscyamine, which can be used as an analgesic, is also used to treat epilepsy and seasickness. Overdose may cause dizziness, rapid heartbeat and other symptoms. Patients often become docile and confused. I am not sure where the inspector is now.His breathing was very short, his eyes were out of focus, and he tried to stand up while leaning on the arm of the sofa, but he slid back down again and again. My vision became clear and blurred at times. At this time, I couldn’t see his distorted face clearly. I guess it was a A look of despair.

He pulled out his pistol from his belt and tried to load it many times without success. I took out mine too and reloaded as slowly as I could, not wanting to be seen shaking my hands.

"Who is that child to you?" I asked.

"……what?"

"The one I saw at the police station."

"It's my sister's child."

I think back to that day in the interrogation room, and now it's as if the roles have been reversed.

"Well, how old is he?"

I heard a click.

"Shh, shh, don't be so nervous," I said, "let's talk."

The inspector looked at me warily.

"Have you seen Butcher? My son, he has eyes like mine," I pointed to mine. "It's almost an adult, time flies."

"...you're going to take revenge on me," he said.His eyes kept losing focus, and then struggled to focus on me again.I dismissed it and started talking about Butcher's childhood without a clue.

"When he was five or six years old, he suddenly suffered from hives, and there was almost no intact skin on his arms. I grabbed his hands like a prisoner to stop him from scratching his skin," I said While recalling, he said, "I still remember...he was so young at that time, crying and struggling, and got into my arms again, tears wet my front in a short while. He had a high fever, and I touched myself Even my skin feels stinging."

"The hives..." he said, "but he recovered, too. After all, what does it matter to me?"

"None of your business?" I said, "but you're hard."

When I talk about Butcher as a kid, there's an inappropriate, shameful curve between his legs.He was silent for a while, tears streaming down his face, gradually turning into sobs, just like in that closed small room.

"You're disgusting," I said sincerely.I started to regret mentioning Butcher, feeling he was tainted.

As soon as the words fell, the inspector immediately became emotional and pointed the gun at me. At this time, his arms were no longer strong enough to maintain a horizontal posture, and he slid down weakly.I raised the gun and pressed the muzzle against my own temple, his expression of bewilderment froze for a moment.

"I'm not afraid of death, I'm only afraid of being alone," I said. "Don't you get tired of it?"

His hands were shaking and he said nothing.

"In this world, it is impossible for your dirty wish to come true in a lifetime. Or has it come true? What are you feeling guilty about?"

He cried bitterly and shook his head, put down the gun, probably no longer able to hold it.

I watched him patiently.At this point nothing mattered, I extended the invitation sincerely, and my pistol was loaded with six bullets. "Come on," I said.

After a while, he raised his gun hand again, but this time he turned the gun on himself.I laughed. "Would you like to count down with me?" I said, closing my eyes, "Three, two, one."

Boom.There was a shot.

I put down the gun, opened my eyes, and saw his hands hanging limply, his head tilted to the other side, blood splashed on the wall, and slid down the wall.

His body was lying sideways on the sofa in a contorted position, and I was confused by the continuous flow of blood gushing from the scorched hole in the temple, and the dark color on the sofa.I did intend to shoot, but for some reason I didn't pull the trigger just now, and now there is nothing left but a moment later.After a long time, I got up to wash the cup, scrubbed it from the inside to the outside with a cloth, turned it upside down on the counter top, opened the window, turned it out, and closed the window. The night was already very dark.

**

Walking aimlessly on the road, I unloaded the originally loaded bullets and put them in the other pocket.There was a sound of trotting footsteps behind me, mixed with a few barking dogs, I turned my head and was patted on the shoulder from the other side. I turned my head again and saw Hunter and his dog.

"Are you all right," he asked, "how did you come from the direction of the inspector's house?"

My mind went blank and I couldn't think of any excuses.Why must it be explained?I stopped and tilted my head to look at him. Hunter frowned gradually, his Adam's apple rolled up and down, and pulled a dog leash to stop the dog from trying to rub against my leg.

"you……"

"Go away." I said.