That night, Schmidt was enjoying his last dinner in Tan Yi in his mansion.
Considering that Schmidt didn't have much appetite at the moment, the dinner his servant prepared for him was relatively simple: a plate of salad and a glass of red wine. The salad is mixed with the old police inspector's favorite asparagus, risana cheese, winter toon leaves and sweet Urian shrimps. The presentation is very elegant.
Schmidt ate in silence, never touching the red wine glass next to him. The butler observed it for a few minutes and then stepped forward to replace the red wine with white wine. As expected, Schmidt started drinking - he urgently needed some alcohol at the moment, but The color of red wine disgusted him.
Avinash was sitting at the other end of the long table at the moment. He had nothing to do, so he flipped through the Schmidt daily records handed to him by the butler. In the past ten days, the old police inspector had experienced severe insomnia: almost from the day of Hoffman's tragic death, Schmidt could not sleep.
The housekeeper noted next to this note that the family doctor had prescribed sedatives, but he refused to take them.
"Are your luggage ready?" Schmidt asked suddenly.
"Ready, sir."
Schmidt raised his head with a rather thoughtful look in his eyes, "Have you prepared the 'common medicines'?"
"It's ready. I put it in the travel bag you carry with you. The sleeping pills are in the middle of the bag. There is about three days' supply. You can open some new ones when you get to the core city..." The housekeeper paused, " The clothes are also ready."
"Okay." Schmidt put down his knife and fork and looked up at the time.
There were still more than two hours before they left for the train station. Some fine sweat broke out on his palms, but he quickly wiped it away calmly.
"You've been suffering from insomnia recently," Avinash put down the record book, "Are you worried about the 'assassin'?"
Schmidt immediately sneered, "Insomnia is indeed a problem, not because of worrying about assassins. Sleep becomes like this when you get older... You will also experience it in the future, especially in winter."
Avinash raised his eyebrows slightly and responded.
As if worried that Avinash wouldn't believe it, Schmidt added: "I'm not worried about the 'assassin' or 'red velvet'. I know she just wants to see me fall into fear like Rishi, but I have to Said she made the wrong decision."
Avinash nodded, "That's good."
"I actually know very well what she thinks... Do you want to hear it?"
Avinash glanced at Schmidt, and he probably understood the other person's psychology: the more afraid of something, the more he should take the initiative to talk about it, which will help relieve the fear. However, he was not willing to play the role of a listener to alleviate other people's anxiety at this time, not to mention that once he started talking, the old police inspector would probably have a lot of long speeches waiting for him.
But having said that, he has been surrounding Rishi these past few days, and apart from a few subordinates, he has no insiders he can talk to - except Pauler. But Pauler is really a bit boring. He may be good at talking about banquets and drinks, but in this case of murder, he can only express flattery and fear, and he can't do anything else.
"Tell me about it." Avinash pretended to be interested, "I'm all ears."
"Sending death notices to everyone in advance, isn't this setting up obstacles for you to commit crimes?" Schmidt's voice said, "With her ability, she could have eliminated all her enemies in secret, but now she has done so The big fanfare puts everyone on guard...Why would she do such a thing to ask for trouble?"
"Indeed, what do you think?"
Schmidt said, "To prolong my pain."
Avinash let out a sigh of realization.
"Look at Rishi, he has been in fear of death since the first day he received the death notice. Every day since then, he has been looking at his photos and imagining how he will die - look at this How much fear tortured him... He, a devout Catholic, actually chose to commit suicide because he couldn't bear the pain.
"The devil lurking in the dark will make each of us spend twelve days of fear! She is using this trick to torture me and each of us... But she thinks she can succeed in this way Already? No!"
Schmidt suddenly stood up, "At least not here. I will not be intimidated by this woman's methods. I want to see it. When I get to the core city-"
Before he finished speaking, there was a sudden screeching sound of brakes outside the window, followed by a dull crash, which immediately startled the dogs barking in the distance.
In this momentary change, Schmidt had already raised the gun in his hand, and he pulled the trigger continuously towards the window, causing the glass to shatter. But those bullets obviously didn't hit anything - amidst the noise in the distance and the silence nearby, Schmidt came back to his senses.
Cold sweat slipped from his forehead. He could not control his breathing for the rest of his life. In the silent dining room, the sound of breathing seemed so harsh. A tinnitus rushed to his head along with hot blood. Schmidt felt dizzy. It took a while to recover.
After a while, the housekeeper ran up and said, "Sir, a private car was involved in a car accident. The patrol team has called for an ambulance... They heard gunfire and wanted to ask if you are safe."
Schmidt sat slumped in his chair and turned a deaf ear to everything.
"Safe." Avinash answered on his behalf. He stood up and signaled to the butler that he could leave. Silence returned to the dining room. Avinash walked silently to Schmidt and gently handed down his gun.
The old police inspector raised his head, and under the bright light, Avinash saw that this aging face was covered with ravine-like wrinkles.
"...Give it back to me," Schmidt trembled, "Don't...take my gun away."
Schmidt's eye sockets were deeply sunken, and his eyeballs were also severely bloodshot. Avinash couldn't tell for a moment whether the redness was due to exhaustion or because he was shocked into tears by what happened just now.
Thinking of the majestic old man who comforted Rishi at the police station a few days ago, Avinash put the gun back in his palm.
"You're right," Avinash whispered, "That person just wants to see you fall into fear, and you won't let him succeed, will you."
The old police inspector suddenly held Avinash's hand tightly like a child. He put his eyes on Avinash's clothes and his breathing was trembling.
"Can you help me find a priest... I need... to confess..."
Avinash sighed, and asked his subordinates to send a message to the butler, while he stayed here to accompany Schmidt through what was probably the most difficult period of time at the moment.
It was a deep night outside the window. Avinash stood in the hall and looked out. He suddenly thought that if the murderer was watching outside at this moment, then he should be secretly proud of it now.
