Wine and Gun

"I saw a swaying figure not far away, but Officer Hardy said that he would only keep people waiting for us at the door, so it is unlikely that someone else found it." The pale Alexander said, he was asking another A policeman helped him wrap the wound on his abdomen. The bullet was not particularly accurate and grazed his waist and abdomen heavily, dripping with blood, but it also saved his life, "I'm worried that the suspect was swimming outside, but The generator was so loud that other people couldn't hear me, and I was afraid that if I went back and called them, that person would run away, so..."

The only thing that is gratifying is that with the joint efforts of the two generators, the power supply was finally restored. The interior of the first floor lobby of WLPD was brightly lit, but the atmosphere was particularly gloomy.

- Herstal also failed to find Albarino in the end, and it was almost impossible to find someone with so much snow and such poor visibility. Herstal didn't hear the other gunshots, but it might be completely blocked by the whistling sound of the wind and snow.

Hardy, looking worse now than when the power went out, asks, "So you chose to go after a prisoner in bad weather, knowing that the prisoner had just taken a gun from his previous victim— —"

"Be gentle with him, Officer Hardy," McCard said calmly. "He was nearly shot to death."

"Al may be dead now." Olga added with interest, she was sitting at a table, looking a little too excited, surrounded by the employee information that the police officers had screened before.

Everyone who was listening to the conversation inevitably gave her a glance, except for the expressionless Herstal Armalite: his expression remained a decent blank, which made people think that one would die every three days. Boyfriends are the norm for gangster lawyers.

"Well, anyway," Hardy paused and slowed down, "you should have seen what the murderer looks like, right?"

But his tone did not comfort the other party much. Alexander replied in a low voice with extreme shame: "...No, sir, the visibility is really bad..."

"That means we have returned to the starting point, and there are not a few people in the room, so we can only say that the murderer is not in this room at all." McCard said sternly, "The scope of the profile was wrong, so —"

"Not necessarily," the old god Olga interrupted him on the ground, "it is also possible that Doctor Bacchus rushed in front of Mr. Armalite in the snowstorm, shot Alexander, and then took advantage of the opportunity. Escaped."

Hardy opened his mouth and paused like a cassette for a few seconds, looking so funny that he wanted to take a picture of the scene and blackmail him. He asked incredulously: "...are you serious?"

"I'm not, but Agent McCard probably thinks so." Olga replied sweetly, her tone of voice erratic when she said those words telling everyone that she was definitely a little drunk, "After all, according to him That theory, if one person committed the first case, the seventh case must also be committed by the same person; anyway, no matter who committed the crime, George Robb's hair will appear in..."

"Moloze!" Lavasa McCard drank in a brokenhearted voice, "If you're willing to do your best to spend a little time finding the killer, instead of using your precious time to run on me—"

"Are you going to say that 'every minute you spend your time someone is dying', Agent McCard?" Olga looked straight at McCard sharply.

"Exactly." McArd stared back without hesitation, his eyes seemed to be burning, "and you, Molozer, you have no work ethic."

"Oh, right? Since you said so..." Olga snorted coldly, then jumped off the table, turned directly to the pile of documents on the table, and swept the pile without hesitation. on the ground. With a clatter, the pages of paper cascaded down to the ground like a waterfall, and the papers that slid farthest even fell to Herstal's feet.

Hardy said in the voice of a tantrum child: "Olga—"

"None of the people in the pile were murderers, they were all present, and we have now ruled out the possibility that there are murderers in them. And those who have served in the police station for less than three years but are not here - are all in this pile of information "Olga said, grabbing the other stack of documents and flipping through them quickly. The police didn't check the contents well before, because they thought the murderer was among them, so they directly excluded everyone who wasn't there. Lost. "These -- and these -- are not suspects, too tall and fat; this? Three-time Sanda champion, impossible."

While muttering to herself, she threw the top sheet of the stack of documents to the ground, and then threw the second and third sheets in the same way, muttering negative words between her lips. Hardy looked at the place and looked as if he didn't know if it was going to happen.

Olga looked at things very fast, her fingers kept flipping, she threw more sheets of paper on the ground in a mess, and half of the people in the hall were staring at her, and then she snapped out a photo from the pile of papers, Hold it up and show it to those present.

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