Wine and Gun

"Uh, Al," he said hesitantly, "have you..."

"What's wrong?" Albarino asked in confusion.

Hardy took a deep breath and said, "It's how Olga made me care about you a little more because she said you're going through 'the hardest thing you've had in years. Lovelorn'--"

Obviously, Hardy himself felt that it seemed strange to say such a thing, so he hurriedly said it without a single sentence in the middle. Even Albarino was stunned after receiving such a large amount of information. He thought about it, and then asked: "...Do I have it?"

"Olga said you had it. Pardon me for quoting her, she said: 'Mr. Amarette is obviously different'." Hardy said, probably not understanding how he was friended by his friends. Launched to ask other people's feelings.

At this time, Tommy, who was in charge of bringing the corpse back to the morgue, had already returned. He looked at Albarino with great interest, and asked a little too gossip: "What? Are you talking to your new girlfriend again? ?"

Albarino felt that he should reflect on what kind of impression he usually left on others. He smiled and said ambiguously: "If you really want to know, I don't think I've arrived yet." What's the step of chuī?"

——Although he estimated that Hardy would not believe a word, Hardy had known him for so many years, and he had never seen him get back with a boyfriend and girlfriend who had quarreled. Of course, Dr. Bacchus didn't care anyway. Dr. Bacchus was very romantic and good-looking. He also had some contacts accumulated by his parents in the upper class of Westland, and there were a lot of boys and girls willing to marry him.

Hardy opened his mouth, obviously wanting to say something, but the sudden ringing of his cell phone obviously didn't give him the chance. With a hurried apology, he went to answer the phone, only Tommy still standing there in high spirits.

"So you really quarreled with someone again? How many times is this since I came to the Forensic Medicine Bureau as an intern?" Tommy's eyes were literally flickering, and Albarino miraculously read his tone. I heard a bitter taste, "When will you be able to settle down?"

"Anyway, it's impossible for you to attend my wedding in your life," Albarino said perfunctorily. "You'd better count on Olga."

Tommy pouted inconspicuously, cryptically expressing that no one could count on Olga; he had seen Olga many times since his work, and it was clear that he was amazed by the way he behaved.

That's when Hardy called back. He frowned, his face was not very good, and as soon as he came over, he said to Albarino: "Clara's school called, I may have to go there, you still have your secretary send me the autopsy report. E-mail..."

As he spoke, he hurried out. Albarino was eager to get rid of Tommy's broken thoughts about mate selection criteria. He followed two steps in Hardy's direction subconsciously, and asked, "A call from the school at this point? Is it okay?"

It was after ten o'clock in the morning on Wednesday, and it didn't look like elementary school was about to end.

"It's nothing, kid..." Hardy muttered a few times, Albarino didn't understand what he was saying, but the other party waved his hand and walked quickly to the door, "Anyway, I'll go first, you have what you have in hand. If there is any problem with the autopsy of the two wrongful deaths, contact Sergeant Bull."

His figure quickly disappeared from the door, and Albarino stopped and spoke before Tommy eagerly rushed forward for more gossip.

"Come on, Tommy," he said. "Did you hear what Officer Hardy said? We have two more bodies waiting for us today."

Herstal Armalette was sitting in a palatial room—the word "palatial" might sound cliché, but there really isn't a better word to describe where he was: the room's walls were Rich gold and red tapestries adorned their heads with gleaming crystal chandeliers, and if it wasn't for Herstal's work ethic, he really wanted to turn and leave.

Opposite him sat his client, a newspaper tycoon, a successful man who was struggling with his rebellious daughter, who had just pulled off the biggest shit she'd ever done as an adult.

"I recommend a plea bargain," Herstal said. "On the basis of the available evidence, if the prosecutor charges with manslaughter, the jury is likely to find guilt. If there is a plea bargain, we We can find a way to change the sentence, and we may be able to get her a fixed-term sentence of about five years, or even a suspended sentence if you are lucky."

The other party swallowed bitterly and asked eagerly, "Is there no other possibility?"

"That's very unlikely." Herstal nodded calmly, "Your daughter went to confront her boyfriend after hearing about her cheating. Before going to see him, she went home and took a golf club and put it in the trunk. , in general, under this premise, the jury will not think that her act of smashing her boyfriend's head was unpremeditated; and once the prosecutor finds that her act is a murder of attempted murder, the least will be Prosecution for second-degree murder -- and that's the last thing we want right now."

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