So you threw me the information about the serial number to disarm me.
“And Chip? Why did you kill him?”
She wrinkled her nose again. “I didn’t. Must have been someone else.”
“But you planted the remote in his apartment, right?”
“Yeah.” She smiled, a hideous smile. “Angus gave me the idea when he said that whoever found the remote would find the killer. And once Chip conveniently turned up dead, well, that wrapped things up very neatly. Except for one loose thread. You.”
“How did you get into his place?” I wasn’t sure why I kept her talking. It was the classic trite ploy you see in the movies, but I guess I didn’t feel like dying right that minute.
Raindrops began to fall, misty against my skin. How long before Ardine decided she didn’t want to get wet and ended this little chat?
I was also clinging to something else Serrano had said, which was that the two other killings were “hands-off.” Did she really have the nerve to kill me face-to-face?
“I rocked the Audi, and when the alarm went off and he came running down to see if someone was stealing it, he left his apartment door open,” she said. “I didn’t have time to find a great hiding spot, so I just tossed it in the bathroom cabinet.”
As she talked, I scanned the yard in the fading light, trying in vain to see a way through the rusty obstacle course.
Suddenly I had another horrible thought. “Ardine, did you kill your mother, too?”
She grinned. “I told you, she tripped and fell down the stairs. Now, I might have loosened the banister some . . .” She took another step closer, her arm raised with the deadly syringe, and her face twisted into a snarl. “The old witch was always after my money, always putting me down.”
Another hands-off killing. Serrano’s cool, detached voice seemed to be speaking inside my head. She doesn’t have the guts to do you in. You can take her, Daisy.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of twin pricks of light in the gathering fog. Cyril’s cat was creeping along the top of a nearby bed frame, his eyes like flat green glass, muscles slithering in perfect unison as he stalked closer.
Control your breathing. Get ready.
Suddenly he dove past Ardine, a black flying shadow.
She screamed. “What’s that? A bat?”
I swung my pocketbook holding the hefty sad iron in a wide arc, bashing Ardine in the ribs. She moaned and staggered, but didn’t fall, still holding the syringe, still intent on stabbing me.
In that split second, I remembered hearing once that women were always afraid to hurt someone, even in a fight. Another body blow wouldn’t do much to stop her, but even so, I hesitated.
Daisy, she killed three people for Christ’s sake! Serrano was practically shouting inside my head now.
I gritted my teeth and kicked Ardine Smalls in the crotch.
“Aargh!” With an unholy yowl she crumpled to the ground and I hauled the bag back again and gave one final smash, whacking her in the head and shoulder.
I didn’t wait to see how much damage I’d done as I threw the bag down and leapt over her. I ran harder than I’d ever run in my life, dodging old tires and engine parts as I headed for the road. I couldn’t hear the sound of footsteps behind me, but I didn’t dare look back.
In a couple of minutes, I was heaving for breath, and soaking wet from the rain. Halfway to the intersection with the main road, I slowed to a stagger, but I kept going, my lungs screaming in my chest. I prayed that I’d knocked Ardine out long enough to keep her down until I could reach the road and relative safety.