Wine and Gun

——He will never forget that night when he forgot what fell in the church hall at night, and after going downstairs, he saw two corpses hanging in front of the cross that was heartbreaking late at night. One of the two dead was right. The deacon who knows what he is doing, the other is a church member who enjoys the children's beautiful voices and skin with him, and a seat between them is still vacant, who is it reserved for?

No, they weren't dead at that time, and one of them was still twisting and struggling in mid-air, his lips were purple, and he was staring straight at him, as if begging for his rescue. As the opponent struggled, he saw a thin piano string tied around the opponent's neck, the man's weight was all on the wire, his skin was undoubtedly cut, and blood ran along the skin. flow down.

Then he heard a sound: it came from the wooden stairs, and someone was going upstairs to the attic where the priests lived.

The sound of footsteps seemed to hit Slade's heart, and he made the only and most correct choice: he ran away, far away from the church, the city, the one with the piano strings night.

Who is the mysterious killer? He had thought about it many times, and he thought back to the people who might know what he had done, the faces that were getting blurry—until the night he sat across from the warden, The warden handed him Herstal Armalet's file.

He saw a familiar face he had long forgotten.

Piano strings, William, Herstal Armalette, unexpected visitor to Sequoia Manor, mysterious intruder and guard who died silently outside the manor, Westland pianist.

There is a thread that ties everything together.

Later, sitting in front of FBI special agent Lavasa McCard, he stammered as he described what was on his mind, saying, "It may be crazy, but I think Amalette is a Westland pianist. ."

In fact, it's just intuition, but how likely is it that there are two murderers who used to hang people from the ceiling with piano strings in a city at the same time?

What he didn't expect was that McCard smiled slowly.

"I know very well that Amalette is the Westland pianist," McCard replied politely.

In this way, Slade's beating heart finally fell back to its original place.

At this moment, he heard a soft knock on the door behind him. When Slade turned around, he saw Herstal Armalite was pushing the door in. There was no blood on his body, and he was still well-dressed and meticulous. Slade didn't know how he got past the guards at the door, but that didn't matter now.

Slade knew that someone from the FBI was in ambush in the next room, which made him smile reassuringly and say, "William, here you are."

So Slade saw a very light and very light sullen flash through the eyes of the other party, and then returned to the blue without any waves. The other's hand slid into the pocket of his coat, which was a gun in profile, and it seemed that even he knew he was too short on time to get the piano strings out.

Slade was not worried, he knew that without waiting for the other party to take out the gun, the FBI agents who had been in ambush for a long time would swarm him and seize the stolen goods and seize him. Therefore, he even provocatively said: "Your skin is as white as it was back then."

Herstal still didn't answer—the next second, he drew the gun. It was a revolver, and it had the natural advantage of never getting stuck. Under the setting sun, the metal surface almost seemed to be soaked in blood.

Stryder took a step back. He felt something was wrong. The rooms next door with people in ambush were too quiet, there was no sound of anyone about to raid, and the black muzzle was already aimed at him, and then— —

"You're a lot more stupid than Lavasa McCard," Herstal said coldly.

A new fear suddenly rose in Slade's heart. He wanted to shout and flee, but it was too late. He watched helplessly as Herstal pulled the trigger, the bullet and gunpowder gas spewed out of the muzzle, and the bright flames flickered in the dimly lit room.

"boom!"

The first shot hit him in the chest, Slade took a step back under the force of the shock, and Herstal blankly fired the second, third, and the second. In his chest, the third shot hit the opponent's head somewhere. Blood splattered on the white curtains, and Slade stumbled two steps before hitting the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him heavily.

The floor-to-ceiling windows had long been covered with cobweb-like cracks because of a bullet. When he hit it like this, the glass shattered, and a dazzling light flashed under the purple sky. Under the backlight, Slade was like a huge black shadow. He smashed the window and fell out of the window. His bloody body seemed to stay in the air for a second, and then he leaned back, the whole person was muffled. fell.

next moment--

"FBI! Don't move! Raise your hands!"

The other doors on the side of the living room were slammed open with a crisp sound, and Herstal turned calmly, holding the gun that belonged to Albarino's father, and saw Lavasa McCardner. Pair of indifferent and determined eyes.

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