Page 52 of The Perfect Crime

“He’s still with us,” the man said, looking up again, “but I’m not sure for how much longer.”

“I thought it took up to two hours for the poison to cause death,” Jessie said worriedly.“That was the timeframe with the prior victims.”

“That’s true,” he conceded, “But this is an imprecise science.For obvious reasons, no studies have been done.And I have a confession to make.”

Jessie’s blood ran cold as she asked, “what?”

“I gave the detective here a higher dose than the others,” he said sheepishly.“I figured that an important guy like him would be missed—as would you—if you were out of contact with your colleagues for too long.So I decided to expedite the process.Sorry about that.”

Jessie used every ounce of restraint she had left to avoid screaming at the man.She needed him to feel comfortable, in control.Other than the element of surprise, his overconfidence might be the only advantage she had left.

“Could you please see if he’s conscious?”she pleaded.

“Why?”he asked, genuinely perplexed.

“Because if these are our last moments together,” she explained, “I want to tell him how I feel.”

The man, still kneeling next to Ryan, thought about it for a moment.Then, with whatever remained of his humanity, he nodded.

“Okay,” he said, and leaned over to gently shake Ryan.

“Hey Detective,” he said quietly, “your wife wants to share some last words.”

Ryan moaned softly.He was still alive.

That was when she moved.Ignoring the pain that immediately shot through her body, she grabbed onto the side of the butcher block and pulled herself to her feet.The man looked over in surprise.When he saw what she was doing, he started to get up as well.

Jessie put him out of her mind for a second as she tried to think.The shard of glass in her hand might be useful if she jammed it into his eye or neck.But it was too small to truly incapacitate him unless she got him in the exact right spot.And right now, weak and stressed, she didn’t trust herself.She needed a blunter weapon.

That’s when her eyes fell on the rolling pin.It was resting on top of the butcher block, where the man must have left it.As he charged toward her, she grabbed it and swung as hard as she could.

He raised his arms to block the blow but was a little too slow.The body of the roller connected with the left side of his head at the eye socket.She knew she’d made solid contact because, as his weight slammed into her, she heard a crack right before he began to scream.

Their shared momentum sent them toppling over the top of the butcher block before they landed in a heap on the floor on the other side.Jessie’s body shouted at her in protest, but she hadn’t felt anything break.

The man was on top of her, but he appeared stunned, holding his hand to his eye as he screeched in anguish.She was still holding the rolling pin.Clutching it in both hands, she swung it again, this time aiming for the man’s jaw.

Again, she made clean contact as his chin snapped upward.After a moment of silence, he started screaming again and she understood why.It looked like his tongue had been partially severed by his own teeth.

She didn’t wait to see if he’d get over it, quickly shoving him off her.As he slid to the side, she re-gripped the roller and took aim at the crown of the man’s head.Then she swung.The contact made her forearms shiver, but she also heard what sounded like another crack.She thought she might have fractured the man’s skull.

He dropped onto his back, clutching his eye with one hand and the top of his head with the other.His tongue was left to fend for itself.

She scrambled to her knees and launched herself at him, slamming her kneecaps into his solar plexus.A giant gasp escaped his lips.She let her legs slide down so that she was straddling him just below the waist.After taking a giant gulp of air, she looked down at the man just beneath her.

His face was mangled and bloody, but she felt no sympathy for him.All she felt was rage.She wanted to hurt him, to make him pay, to make him suffer.She lifted the rolling pin high above her head and brought it down, hitting the man square in the left cheekbone.It offered a satisfying crack as it caved in.

She lifted the pin again.This time, she brought it down on the man's neck.The crunch of his trachea when she hit it filled her with pure joy.The man was already gasping for air because of the knees to the gut, but now he engaged in some kind of bloody, raspy gurgle.Jessie loved it.

She lifted the rolling pin above her head once more, but this time she turned it vertical, so that one of the handles was pointed downward.She squinted, aiming.If she brought it down just right, it would enter his mouth, go through the back of his throat, and, if she was lucky, hit the spine at the base of his neck.She wondered if she could really make it happen.As she wrapped her fingers firmly around the top of the pin, she decided to find out.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

“Stop!”

The shouted word startled her.

She looked off to her left to see Ryan, his head craned toward her, his eyes cloudy but horrified.He swallowed hard and in a much weaker voice, he repeated, “stop.”

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