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墨書 Inktalez
“Of course! To be honest, this is my third visit to your home. The first time I came, I actually stole a bottle of the same brand of red wine.” He shook a bottle beside him as he spoke. “Fortunately, after taking it home, I tested it—this has been my habit for years, so please don’t doubt my excessive caution—and discovered it contained sleeping pills. I tossed it aside without a second thought—otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting here discussing things with you today. So tell me, why would someone put sleeping pills in their own wine bottle? It puzzles me!
“Thus, I returned today, convinced there must be some conspiracy at play. Sure enough, I found another bottle of red wine with sleeping pills in the same spot in your fridge. Afterward, I investigated your drinking habits and found that you don’t drink at all; only your wife has the habit of enjoying a glass after dinner. Moreover, all these bottles bear your fingerprints—what do you make of that?
“So, I can’t help but suspect your good intentions. Of course, there are other signs indicating that you and your wife are engaged in a deadly battle of wills. For instance, you two are currently separated; you sleep in the living room while she sleeps in the bedroom. I’ve seen this twice now—it can’t just be coincidence! As for other more compelling clues, allow me to remain silent for now; I will reveal everything at the appropriate time.”
After finishing his speech, the composed and humorous thief stretched a bit before settling back down.
“What—what do you mean?” My voice was somewhat hoarse, but thankfully it didn’t betray my anxiety. My right hand quietly moved behind me to grab an empty beer bottle, ready to swing it at him when the moment was right.
“Uh… I don’t think you need to resort to violence,” he gestured for me to loosen my grip on the beer bottle in the darkness. At that moment, I couldn’t help but admire his keen perception. “Perhaps I’m not good enough; I forgot to introduce myself… I used to be a professional hitman. Now that I've switched careers to become a thief, if an opportunity arises, I can’t resist taking it. After all, making money isn’t easy; if I can pick up some along the way, why not?”
“What are you implying?”
“I’m suggesting that I could be your hitman! I could clear away your obstacles and pave a smooth road toward a brighter future for you. What do you think?” He pulled out a cigarette and turned his head to light it; the brief flare of light illuminated his features but quickly faded again. “Actually, I know quite a bit about you. You’re not very wealthy; in fact, the reason you want to kill your wife is so you can marry another woman without losing half your assets—am I right?”
“Yes, but it’s not entirely as you think.” I shifted into a more comfortable position, preparing for a clearer conversation. “My current wife has a congenital heart condition. Five months ago she fell seriously ill and underwent surgery; the doctor said they had done all they could—implying there was no hope left and that we should let her spend her remaining time at home.
“There’s nothing I can do but wait for the day when I have to handle her affairs. But while she’s gone, who will take care of mine when my time comes? We have no children. So recently, I've hastily found another woman to prepare for life after my wife passes—life has to go on somehow!
“Seeing this chaotic situation before me leaves me at a loss. On one side is my half-dead wife; on the other is this woman pressing me daily. It’s desperate—I came up with such an unsavory plan… After all, my wife will leave eventually; might as well send her off sooner…”
"Ah! I see," he mused for a moment, seeming to understand my state of mind. Then he added, "Actually, you have a point. It's unsettling for anyone to have death looming here. Well—" He shifted the topic, slapping his thigh as if to clarify his intentions. "How about this? Your wife will be home soon, so I'll tell you the truth—this time, I won't charge you a fee. However, I need you to kill someone for me in exchange. It should be discreet enough that the police won't notice. What do you think?"
He glanced at me through the darkness, the faint light from the window behind him casting a delicate veil that outlined his silhouette in black. He was a man dressed in an oversized trench coat; that was all I could discern.
"Alright!" I thought it over, steeling myself before agreeing. "My wife will be back soon, so I won't keep you any longer."
"Good, then this is your task." He handed me a folded piece of paper. "I hope everyone keeps their promises. I'll give you the results the day after tomorrow."
He stood up, adjusted his clothes, and strode confidently toward the door.
"The day after tomorrow, I'll have results for you too," I said coldly to his retreating figure.
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