Chapter 2 1

□□□ Hello, distinguished guests. Everyone is welcome to come and watch our show. In the next two days, we have prepared a series of wonderful programs for you. Our illusionists, magicians and masters of various skills will take turns to play, and their magic will definitely make you hooked and completely mesmerized. Today's first program is Harry.Houdini-style forte.You must have heard of this man, the greatest escape master in the world, who has performed tricks in front of heads of state and several US presidents.The escape shows he performed were extremely difficult, and despite his untimely death many years ago, there are some moves that no one dares to try so far.

Now our performers will risk suffocation to re-enact Houdini's famous escape: the lazy hangman. In this performance, our experts will bend over to the ground, and their hands will be locked in typical Derby style handcuffs. back.His feet and ankles will be tied tightly, and a rope like a twisted noose will be hung around his neck, and this rope will be connected to the ankles.As soon as his legs were straightened, the noose around his neck would be tightened instantly, putting him in a horrible suffocation process. Why is this drama called the lazy tattooist?Because this is a death sentence that is not faked by others, but executed by himself.

In many of Houdini's dangerous shows, there are often assistants with knives and keys standing by to rescue him in an emergency should he fail to escape.Sometimes, a doctor is even present. But today, we don't have those safeguards at all.If a performer cannot escape within four minutes, he dies on stage. The show will start soon but I still have to remind everyone: Never forget that once you have come here, you have temporarily let go of reality. Everything you think you see with your own eyes may not exist at all.What you think of as illusion may be the strict will of God at all.

The companions who come to watch the show with you may become complete strangers.People in the audience that you thought you didn't know may know you well. What appears to be safe can be deadly.And the danger that puts you on your guard may be just a small distraction designed to lure you into greater danger. Is there anything to believe in at our show?Who can you trust? Well, gentlemen, the answer to this question is: you should believe nothing. You shouldn't trust anyone either.Not anyone. Now, the curtains were raised, the lights dimmed, the music faded, and the only sound heard was the solemn heartbeat of breathless anticipation.

show starts □□□ The shape of this building is eerie like a ghost.The building is sandwiched between two high places on the Upper West Side. It is a Gothic building with a soot-blackened exterior, dark and gloomy.The Victorian building features a balcony and many shuttered windows on the high roof.It used to be a boarding school and later turned into a sanatorium, where many mental patients who committed crimes were imprisoned.Today, it's home to the Manhattan School of Music and the Performing Arts, and possibly countless wandering souls. Yet none of the wandering souls (if there were souls at all) were newer than the one now hovering over the maiden's still warm corpse.She was lying belly down in a dark lounge outside a small recital hall.Her eyes were fixed, but not blurred, and the blood on her cheeks hadn't turned brown.Although her skin was fair, the color of her face was drawn into a plum-like deep purple under the contraction and tension of the rope that wrapped around her neck and connected to her ankles.

Scattered beside her is a fife case, some sheet music and an overturned cup of Starbucks coffee.The coffee splattered her denim, her green IZOD shirt, and left a dark brown streak on the adjacent marble floor. Beside her is the murderer who killed her.He was squatting on the ground, carefully looking at the dead bodies on the ground, looking calm and unhurried.It's Saturday, and it's still early.He knew that school would not be in session on weekends, and if any students came to borrow the practice room, they would go to the other side of the building.He looked closer at the girl, squinting his eyes, wondering if he would actually see a soul escaping from her body.However, he saw nothing.

He straightened up, wondering what else he could do with the motionless corpse in front of him. Are you sure that's screaming? No, said the guard, maybe not screaming, you know.It was a scream, full of desperation, that lasted only a second or two, and then it was gone. Did anyone else hear the call?Diane.Fran asked again.She is the most basic patrol police, under the jurisdiction of the 20th Bureau. The fat guard was panting heavily. He looked at the slender, dark-skinned policewoman in front of him, then spread his hands and shook his head.Then, he moved a pair of black hands to the blue trouser legs and wiped the sweat from his palms.

Want to call for support?Nancy.Orson asked.Like Diane, she was a rookie in the police force, a little shorter, with blond hair. Although Diane herself was not sure, she decided not to do it yet.During their patrols on the Upper West Side, they often dealt with traffic accidents, pickpockets and car thieves. They had no experience with brutal villains, and today was the first time they encountered such situations.On this Saturday morning, the guard saw them patrolling by and asked them to come over and help check the screams he had just heard.Uh, or a cry of despair.Let's go in and have a look first, Diane said calmly: We will decide later depending on the situation.

The guard said: "The sound seems to be coming from over there, I'm not sure where it is. What a hell of a place this is.Nancy said.Her personality was not as calm as Diane's, and she tended to be the first to intervene in conflicts, pulling away those who were arguing, even when they were twice as big as she was. That voice is hard to tell you know what I'm saying?I mean the direction it came from. Diane.Fran's mind was still on what her partner had just said.This damn place, she added silently in her heart.They entered the building and searched the shadows for a while, but found nothing unusual.The guard began to doubt his ears a little.

Diane gestured to a door at the bottom of the corridor.Where does that door lead to? There will be no students there, only Diane had flung the door open. Behind the door, there is a small lounge leading to the first recital hall.A young girl fell on the ground in front of the gate of the concert hall. She was bound all over, with a rope wrapped around her neck, and her hands were handcuffed.Her eyes were wide open, and she seemed to have no signs of life.Beside her stood a brown-haired, bearded man in his fifties.The man originally leaned over to look at the corpse intently, but now he raised his head, startled by these people who broke in suddenly.

oops!Nancy let out a cry. OMG.The guards followed suit. The two female patrolmen drew their pistols at the same time, and Diane pointed the gun directly at the man, and the steady hand holding the gun surprised her a little.You, don't move!Slowly stand up straight, away from her, and put your hands up.Her voice was less steady than her fingers gripping the Garrak. The man did as she was told. Now lie on the ground and keep your hands out of my sight! Nancy started to check on the girl. That's when Diane noticed the man's right hand was clenched into a fist, though it was raised above his head. open your boom! A blinding bright light came on, and she couldn't see anything immediately.The bright light appeared to be thrown from the suspect's hand, and it took a while for it to go out.Nancy froze there, but Diane immediately squatted down, retreated desperately, squinted her eyes trying to regain her sight, and kept swiping the gun left and right.In the panic, she knew that the suspect's eyes must have been closed when the bright light bomb exploded just now. Now he may have drawn out his weapon and pointed it at them, or he may have drawn out a knife to attack. What about people?What about people?she yelled. Then, through blurred vision and the remaining smoke in the room, she saw the murderer run into the concert hall.The hall door was slammed shut, and there was a bang, bang, and pounding sound from inside. The murderer seemed to have moved tables and chairs to block the door. Kneeling next to the girl, Nancy cut the rope around her neck with a Swiss knife, turned her on her right and began CPR. Are there other exits inside?Diane yelled at the guard. There's only one in the back, round the corner, on the right there. Are there windows? No. Hello, she said to Nancy as she ran out.You guard this door! knew.The blond policewoman replied, then blew another breath into the victim's mouth. The pounding continued in the auditorium, and she raced around the corner at full speed, headed for the exit the guard had said, while bowing her Motorola radio for backup.When she raised her head again, she saw a person appearing at the end of the corridor in front of her.Diane stopped immediately, pointed the gun at the man's chest, and shone the halogen flashlight beam on him. OMG.Standing there was an elderly worker. He yelled, and the broom in his hand accidentally slipped to the ground. Diane secretly thanked God that her index finger was just outside the trigger guard of the pistol.Did you see someone coming out of that door? What happened? did you see anyoneDiane growled. No, officer. how long have you been here? I don't know about ten minutes. There was another sound of furniture being dragged in the auditorium, and the murderer seemed to be still trying to block the door.Diane chased the worker to the corridor over there, told him to stay with the guards, and then slipped slowly to the side door.She raised the pistol to eye level and flicked the door knob with her other hand.The door knob was not locked.She stepped aside so that she would not be in the line of fire if the gangsters shot at the wooden door.Maybe the police school has taught it like this, but Diane's practice is seen in the TV series "NYC". There was another bang from inside. Nancy, do you hear me?Diane whispered into the radio. Nancy replied with a trembling voice.she died.I did my best, but she died anyway. He didn't come out from here, he was still inside, and I heard his voice. I did my best, Diane, I really did. Forget it, you have to calm down.do you know?Did you hear what I said? I hear you, I'm calm.real.I called for backup, now let's rush in and get him. No, Diane said: we're keeping him in there until the emergency response team gets here.Now let's stand still, guard here, guard all exits, and not let him escape. But at this time, she heard the suspect yelling inside: I have a hostage, and a girl is in my hands.As long as anyone dares to come in, I will kill her! Oh my God Hey, inside, Diane shouted: Don't you worry, we won't act rashly, you don't want to hurt anyone anymore.Does such a statement qualify as an event handler?She was no longer sure.Neither crime TV series nor previous training at the police academy seemed useful at this point.On the radio, she heard Nancy calling headquarters, reporting that the situation had turned into a hostage situation.Diane continued to shout to the gangster: Don't be nervous!you can There was a deafening gunshot in the auditorium.Diane jumped up like a fish.What's wrong?Did you shoot?she yelled into the radio. Not me, Nancy replied, I thought you shot. Are you all right? fine.He said he had a hostage in his hands, so he couldn't have shot and killed the girl, right? I have no idea.How would I know?Diane said, but she thought in her heart: Where did the people who rushed to help die? Diane, it took a while before Nancy whispered, We should just rush in.Maybe she was shot, maybe badly hurt.Then she roared inside: Hey, inside!no answer.Hello! There was absolutely no sound inside. Maybe he killed himself.Diane said. Or maybe the gangster had shot on purpose to make them think he had committed suicide, and then was ready to wait for them to come in. At this time, the terrifying image just now appeared in her mind again: the old door leading to the concert hall was slightly opened, and a pale light was projected on the victim. Her face was purple and cold, like a winter twilight.Stopping people from doing things like this was the number one reason she wanted to be a cop.Stop them, or arrest them if necessary. We have to go in, Diane.Nancy said softly. I was thinking the same thing.OK, let's go in.She was a little flustered. At this moment, she was thinking of her family and how to correctly bend her left hand to cover the right hand holding the gun when shooting in battle.Tell the guard that we need to turn on the lights inside. After a while, Nancy said: The switch is here, and he will wait for my instructions to turn on the light.Over the radio, Diane heard Nancy's nervous panting.Then Nancy said: I'm ready, we'll go in on the count of three.You count. OK, I count.Wait a minute.I'm going in at two o'clock from you, don't shoot me. knew.Two o'clock direction, I will You will appear to my left. continue. One Diane's left hand grasped the door knob.two This time, she inserted her right index finger into the bow guard and lightly placed it on the trigger safety , the trigger cannot be pulled.) The above-mentioned Garak series of pistols all have such a safety device. three!Diane yelled, so loudly that her partner didn't have to hear it over the radio.She kicked open the door and rushed into the rectangular concert hall, and at the same time, all the lights flicked on. Don't move!she screamed, but faced an empty room. She squatted down, feeling goose bumps on her skin due to tension.She swiped the muzzle left and right, inspecting every inch of the concert hall.The criminals were nowhere to be seen, nor did they see the hostages. She looked to the left and saw Nancy standing in the doorway there, making the same nervous search motions as herself.What about people?she murmured. Diane shook her head.She only saw about fifty or so folding chairs neatly arranged in multiple rows, four or five of which were overturned to the ground.However, she didn't see anything that the gangsters used to block the door, and the two doors were easily kicked open.To her right was a low stage with nothing more than an amplifier, two speakers, a battered grand piano, and a dozen wires. The two policewomen can see everything in the concert hall as long as they stand in place. However, the suspect was nowhere to be seen. What's up, Nancy?Tell me, what the hell is going on? Nancy didn't answer, she just looked at every shadow and every piece of furniture in the auditorium in a 360-degree direction, just like Diane, even though it was obvious that the suspect was not here. ghost place This concert hall is basically a secret room with no windows, and the diameter of the air-conditioning and heating vents is only about fifteen centimeters.The concert hall has a wooden ceiling with no soundproof tiles, and there are no trapdoors on the stage.The only two exits here were the gate that Nancy was guarding, and the fire safety door that Diane came in. What about people?Diane opened her mouth and spoke silently. Her partner similarly opened her mouth in silent response.Diane couldn't tell from the shape of her lips, only from her expression: I had no idea. Yo!A loud voice came from the door of the concert hall.They turned around at the same time, raised their guns, and aimed at the empty lounge.There's an ambulance and some police outside.It was the guard who spoke. He hid by the door, not daring to show his figure.Diane's heart was beating wildly with his fright, but she asked him to come into the auditorium anyway. The guard asked: Inside, uh, I mean, did you subdue him? he's not here.Nancy said, her voice still trembling a little. What?The guard poked his head out cautiously and peeked into the concert hall. Is there a trap door or any other exit here? No, nothing like that.Is he not in there? Diane heard the sound of police and EMTs coming to help, and the jingle of their various gear.But she and Nancy didn't go out to join them right away, they just stood in the middle of the concert hall in a daze, wondering how the criminals could escape from this place where there was no other exit.