[Zhongyingmei] The last string

Lucas was sitting in the interrogation room, his hands were always handcuffed and locked with a ruby ​​cane, but his expression was indifferent, without the slightest sense of anxiety.

An hour ago, the search warrant and arrest warrant applied to the top came down, and the BAU and DCPD came to arrest people together.

Lucas didn't show much surprise when the FBI and the police came, even when Viola handcuffed him and stared at him coldly, he didn't have much reaction.

There is a fairly spacious room in his home, where various ovens and a large number of cake-making tools, materials, etc. are placed. It seems to be his studio where he usually studies western pastry techniques.

There are some design drafts of new pastries piled up on the marble preparation table, but most of them seem to be discarded.

The person who used the pen seemed to be in a violent mood, and the drafts were even scratched by the sharp edge of the pen.

Police found mines, tubes at the bottom of boxes where cake molds were stacked in his workshop, and a carton full of gunpowder that was supposed to hold whipped cream.

The evidence is solid and needs no further words.

As for the exposure of his evil deeds, Lucas seemed to have nothing to say, just sat silently on his seat, raising his head and looking ahead.

Through the two-way glass of the interrogation room, Viola stood outside and looked at the old man inside.

He looked mentally ill, the redness in his eyes and the dark circles under his eyes were very serious, as if he was being tormented by something continuously.

But he didn't want to show weakness in front of outsiders. He straightened his back and sat upright. No one could see any trace of fatigue from his posture.

Hotch opened the door and walked in, and said softly to her: "The police station is going to send someone over to hand over."

She paused in her heart, turned her head to look over, and said pleadingly, "I want to talk to him."

"You need to know that you don't need to do this," Hotch reassured.

From his point of view, he didn't really want Viola and Lucas to talk, because that would do nothing but add scars.

But he also knew in his heart that Viola had been obsessed with this for more than 20 years, and she would never let it go.

Sure enough, after he said this, Viola just gave him an unusually firm and unwavering look.

Hotch sighed and said, "Before the police come."

She showed a shallow smile: "Thank you."

Holding the file of the concert hall killer tightly in her hand, Viola opened the door of the interrogation room.

Lucas heard the sound of the door opening, turned his head slightly, and looked away after seeing who was coming.

"Mr. Powell, don't be too nervous," she pulled out the chair and sat down opposite him, "I just want to talk to you."

She didn't wait for Lucas' answer, but just opened the file in hand, took out a stack of photos, and spread them on the table one by one.

When it was laid out like this, the photos actually took up half of the table.

"Do you know who these people are?" Viola asked.

Lucas doesn't answer.

The female detective was not annoyed, and just continued: "This is just the person who was killed by the bomb you made."

"If you want to put the injured people here together, there won't be enough space on this table." Her tone was a little cold.

Lucas looked at her and spoke calmly. He asked a question completely unrelated to the current topic.

"Have you ever had insomnia?" His voice was old.

Before Viola could answer, Lucas continued: "Insomnia is a very painful thing."

Sometimes I woke up from a nightmare, covered in sweat, and the sticky feeling made people feel evil, and I was so uncomfortable that I couldn’t fall asleep again, and some sounds started to make trouble again, and it was already dawn when I realized it.

Sometimes when I lie in bed, I know that I will have no sleep again tonight.

Obviously very sleepy, very tired, but just can't fall asleep.

People become tired and listless, their mental state declines, but they still can't sleep.

"It's easy for people to collapse." He said finally, showing a strange smile.

Viola's expression was indifferent, and she didn't waver at all because of his words.

"So, did you choose to kill?" She asked back.

Has she ever had insomnia?

Of course she had insomnia.

The explosion 24 years ago woke her young from the dream again and again, and every time she had the same dream.

The laughter and laughter between her and her mother ended in a booming explosion, and the flames engulfed everything.

Any good things were turned into ashes after that incident, and no longer exist.

In the first month, she didn't have a good night's sleep. Sometimes she would rather keep her eyes open until dawn than close them.

She hated and was afraid of that dream—a dream born from reality.

It was like reminding her again and again that her parents had left her forever.

There is never peace, whether in reality or in false dreams.

That was the first time Viola experienced insomnia.

Even as an adult, when she was an undercover agent, she tossed and turned every night and couldn't sleep, but she never had the idea of ​​persecuting others.

This is no excuse at all.

Lucas shook his head, and he replied, "That's not murder."

It was just a scene copy, he thought.

There will be sacrifices to some extent, but in exchange for a quiet life and night, even if this behavior is distorted, he will not stop his footsteps.

Viola didn't see any regret in his eyes, she was obviously not surprised by this, but boundless anger still arose in her heart.

It is the hatred that has lasted for so many years.

Lucas saw her suddenly clenched fists and narrowed his eyes.

"You lost someone, didn't you?" he said, "because of me."

The expression on Viola's face froze, and she didn't answer.

But this also made Lucas confirm this point even more. He looked at the mixed-race appearance of the agent in front of him, glanced at the photos in front of him, and finally stopped his eyes on a photo.

"Are you her daughter?" He raised his hand and clicked on Lin Fang's photo.

Viola's mouth moved, but she didn't make a sound, she just clenched her fists tighter.

"You are her daughter." This time, he used an affirmative tone.

Lucas looked at her and suddenly broke into a pleasant smile.

"I never thought I'd be happy about something like this," he lamented.

"At that time, I thought about not detonating the bomb. After all, I had a good chat with her at the dessert exchange meeting," Lucas said regretfully, "but your mother said something before the last song."

He moved closer and repeated Lin Fang's words in a very low voice like a whisper.

Viola looked at him blankly.

"...You know what? I'm jealous that you have such a good mother." Lucas straightened up again, and he smiled again when he saw the female detective's expression.

"However, there is no difference between you and me now."

There was a buzzing in Viola's head, she stood up suddenly, and the chair behind her fell to the ground.

Before she could make another move, the door of the interrogation room was suddenly opened, and Hotch stood there and mouthed a 'No' to her.

Her eyes were flushed, and her thoughts were temporarily cut off by anger.

But when she saw Hotch, her sanity gradually returned, she withdrew the hand she was about to hit, lowered her head and silently packed up all the photos on the table.

Viola walked out of the interrogation room quickly, she was afraid that she would not be able to bear it if she stayed any longer.

Hotch closed the door and ran after her, grabbing her.

"What happened, what did he say?" Although he could hear the conversation inside through the device outside, he didn't hear what Lucas just lowered his voice.

And it was after that sentence that Viola's expression changed.

Viola didn't reply, just covered her eyes with her hands, took a few deep breaths, and calmed down a little.

"Aaron, I need some time, can you?" Her voice was hoarse, and there was pleading in her eyes.

Seeing that she did not want to answer the question, he stopped pressing her.

"OK." He nodded and agreed. Everyone could see that she was emotionally unstable now, so she might as well go back and take a rest.

Viola shook his hand lightly, said a thank you that almost disappeared, turned and left.

*****

Lucas was taken away by DCPD. During the handover, he smiled and said the last word to Hotch.

"Say hello to Agent Mill for me."

After speaking, he ignored Hotch's downcast face, turned around and followed the police officer who came to pick him up.

The rest of the BAU looked at each other and asked how Viola was doing. They only saw that she quickly packed her things after returning to her seat, and then left.

Didn't even say a few words to them.

Hotch didn't know how to answer them, so he could only comfort his subordinates, but he was still very worried.

After dealing with some follow-up matters, Hotch rushed home as soon as it was off work.

When he was standing at the door of his apartment, he heard the sound of a cello coming from inside.

After opening the door of the house, he found that the house was completely dark, and even a light was not turned on.

The sound of the cello was clearer, but it was a completely different tune from what he usually heard.

The sound of the piano seems to have sunk to the bottom of the sea, depressing and fast, even a person like Hotch who has no understanding of classical music can know that the player is in a depressed mood.

He walked into the living room and saw a person sitting on a high chair with his head bowed and playing the violin.

"Vi..." He had just uttered one syllable when the cello suddenly stopped, making an ugly hissing sound.

Hotch felt that the person in front of him seemed to be shaking, and he walked over worriedly.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

He couldn't get an answer, and couldn't see the expression of the person in front of him clearly. He turned around and wanted to turn on the light, but he didn't expect that the corner of his clothes was suddenly caught.

"...Don't turn on the light." Her voice was hoarse.

Hotch froze for a moment, then gently agreed: "Okay, then don't open it."

He raised his hand to take the cello and bow in her hand, and put them into the box beside her.

Viola sat on the high chair and hadn't recovered yet.

He suddenly knelt down gently so that he could meet her eyes and held her hand.

"Would you like to talk to me about what happened?" he asked.

Viola saw his slightly brown eyes in the dark, revealing seriousness and a little tenderness.

For some reason, the defense line in her heart suddenly collapsed in an instant.

She burst into tears.

The author has something to say: It's over, I feel like everyone was hurt after reading yesterday's comments...

But in fact, I think today's chapter is the real hurt (run away

Characters in this chapter

Amelia Powell, a mysterious pianist, has died

Lucas·PowellFriandise's owner, pastry chef, this case Unsub

Lin Fang Viola's mother, most beloved person, deceased

Thanks to the little angel Yuma for the two landmines, whata(づ￣3￣)づ