Twisting, Horning drove a blow at his counterpart's face.
The other writhed away. His elbow jabbed into Horning's throat.
Horning choked. Before he could recover, a knee found his belly. The wind went out of him. His adversary broke free and scrambled away, clawing for the gun.
Horning lunged after him. He caught a foot ... jerked and twisted with all his might.
The killer sprawled, flat on his face. But his outstretched hand clutched the pistol.
Horning snatched a Stillson wrench from the litter of tools fallen from the workbench.
His counterpart rolled, whipping round the gun.
Horning lashed out with the wrench, straight at the other's head. It struck home with a sound like that of a dropped watermelon bursting on a concrete sidewalk.
Horning sagged back, panting. After a moment, he saw that his counterpart had stopped breathing.
Horning staggered to his feet. His stomach churned. He lurched to the wastebasket beside the desk and vomited.
Then a dull, shuffling sound impinged upon him. Swaying, Horning came erect and peered round behind him.
Myrtle stood in the doorway, eyes blacker and beadier than ever. Her jaw was set, her greying hair loose and disheveled. She wore a frayed, ancient kimona and dirty white mules.
Horning choked, "Myrtle, get back--!" and tried to move round between her and the bodies. But she pushed past without speaking, straight to his fallen counterpart, and bent as swiftly as her bulk would allow. When she straightened, she held the murderer's pistol in her hand.
She shoved him back with a meaty hand, blocking him with her body, the gun held behind her. He could not read her expression. When she spoke, her voice was flat and without feeling, no longer strident: "I heard it all, Raymond--all the conniving ... how you hate me ... that monster's scheme to steal his wife's fortune...."
Horning shrugged, not bothering to answer. Squatting down, he began gathering together the tools spilled from the workbench.
Myrtle had brought round the pistol. She was pointing it at him.
In the same flat voice she said: "Put on that outfit, Raymond. That transdimensional whatever-you-call-it."
Horning let the tools fall. "Are you out of your mind, woman? In this shambles, with two corpses...." He choked, unable to go on.