The door was locked, but so old and flimsy and so poorly fitted to its frame that it actually fell off its hinges with one kick. A closet stood open to the left of the front door, its door completely missing. Stacey swept it with a glance, then entered with her back to it, sweeping the room from corner to corner.
The apartment inside was a shambles. The walls, floors, ancient radiators, and the window and door frames had all been painted a rather uneven baby shit green. Painting supplies and tools lay in the corners. There was an open door at the far end of the big room, with a window visible beyond. Along the left wall was a door standing a little bit ajar.
Through the crack in the door, she spied a shadow moving in the next room. She took a step forward. The warped floor creaked loudly. She kept her gun trained on the flimsy wooden portal. As she approached, she heard a familiar voice begin to warble off-key.
“Oh my darlin’, oh my darlin’…”
Stacey kicked the door open. It hit a wobby stepladder, and a large plastic trough that had been perched on a board came crashing down. She jumped back as foul liquid splashed her lower body.
“Oh my darlin’ TURPENTINE!” Rhyme yelled, darting out of the room through a side door. Stacey squeezed off a shot, hitting the doorframe.
“Great, you’ve ruined my pants,” Stacey said. She stepped back from the trapped door, turning her gun to cover the far door in case Rhyme charged around it. “Truly you are a criminal mastermind.”
“They make you look fat anyway,” Rhyme called, her voice muffled but carrying through the thin walls of the rundown apartment. “They’re better now… so much thinner!”
“Puns are the lowest form of humor,” Stacey said. She crept past the door, stepping over the puddle of turpentine, and advanced along the wall, estimating the distance until she was past the divide between rooms. She put her ear to the thin wall and began to creep along.
“Everybody’s a critic,” Rhyme said. Her voice sounded close in Stacey’s ear. She kept moving, trying to pin Rhyme’s location down as she kept talking. “I’d think, living on a cop’s salary you’d appreciate the help staying solvent.”
“I get along fine, thank you,” Stacey said, wanting to keep Rhyme talking. Keep up the banter, keep her running her mouth.
“Didn’t I read something about you and real estate?” Rhyme said. “They call her Flipper, Flipper, faster than lightning… you’ve got an eye for damaged properties, don’t you?”
“I like to get my hands dirty,” Stacey said.
“Most cops just go on the take,” Rhyme said. “That’s got to be easier. Hey… stop!” she yelled as Stacey drew abreast of her
“Like hell,” Stacey muttered. She took a step back and leveled her gun. She’d empty it through the wall, with a decent spread to…
The gun went flying from her hands as a sledgehammer came crashing through the drywall. The heavy head blasted past her arms and slammed into her chest, sending her flying back.
“Hammer time!” Rhyme yelled, shouldering her way through the flimsy barrier.
She twirled the hammer like a cane as she advanced on the fallen cop. Heavy as it was, she was able to wield it one-handed without difficulty.
“Oh no you didn’t!” she said, swiping at Stacey’s hand as she groped for the gun. Stacey managed to pull her hand back just in time. “Turpentine facts,” Rhyme said. “Oil of turpentine, distilled by the Greeks from the sap of the terebinth tree, was once used as a topical treatment for infestations of lice. Mixed with honey and molasses, it was recommended for intestinal distress… something it’s actually quite good for, though why anybody would want distressed intestines is a bit beyond me. One of the smelly distillation’s less insane uses was as a cheap alternative source of lamp oil.”
“Lecture on, looney,” Stacey said. “This place is going to be crawling with forbies and capes any minute now.”
“Yes, and I’m sure you wanted to make the collar yourself,” Rhyme said. “Feeling a little put out?”
“Not a bit,” Stacey said.
“Oh,” Rhyme said. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a long wooden kitchen match. “I’m sure you will be. Lamp oil, remember?” She smiled a big tooth-baring smile, then struck the match across her teeth. It flared up then fizzled out in a draft. “Oh, poop,” she said, throwing it away and pulling out another one. “Let’s try that again. Hey, you’ll have to tell me if this reminds you of anything…”
Stacey threw herself to the side, rolling over her gun and grabbing it. Rhyme lashed out with the hammer, catching the side of her ankle and splintering the floorboards. Stacey rolled over and fired a wild shot. A bare lightbulb exploded over Rhyme’s head.
“Cripes! What did Thomas Alva Edison ever do to you?” Rhyme asked, running for the open doorway at the end of the room.
There was a huge crash, the sound of broken glass, and Stacey thought that Rhyme must have thrown herself out the window. She got to her feet and lurched after the villainess, only to see Rhyme standing well back from the window, squaring off with…
“Lily!” Stacey yelled. “Get out of there!”
She had a straight shot at Rhyme, but Lily was in the bullets’ path, too.
“We’ve got her cornered, Staces!” Lily yelled.
“Lily?” Rhyme said. “Oh my gods, Lily!”
“Lily, get out of the way!” Stacey said, staggering forward. Her ankle was supporting her, but just barely.
“Don’t you recognize me?” Rhyme said.
“No, but I know who you are.”
“It’s me, Athena!” Rhyme said, her voice full of desperate urgency. “My sister switched our minds somehow, and now she’s flying around using my powers while I’m stuck in her body.”
“What?” Lily asked.
“For fucks’ sake, Lily, don’t listen to her, just move!” Stacey said.
“Lily, you don’t know what it’s like… her blood… it’s driving me mad,” Rhyme said, sinking to her knees. “Everybody’s hunting for me. Claire, Minerva… they’re in terrible danger. I came looking for you.”
“Why me?” Lily asked, taking a step closer.
“Because I knew you would know,” Rhyme said. “I just felt it… you’d be able to look into my eyes and see.”
“Lilypad, don’t get any closer,” Stacey said. “Don’t look into her eyes, don’t listen to her. Just move.”
“You recognize me, don’t you? I recognized you… and you know I never told Rhyme about us,” Rhyme said. “Why would I? I didn’t tell anybody about us.”
“Athena was acting weird last night,” Lily said, taking half a step forward.
“Oh, what did she do?” Rhyme asked. “What did that bitch do with my body?”
“She has all of your powers?” Lily asked.
“Yes, all of them,” Rhyme said. “The switch was mental. She used some kind of device. I was trying to figure out how to work it when Detective Lieutenant Bishop came after me… I didn’t want to hurt anybody, so…”
“Lily, I’m going to count to three and then I’m going to shoot,” Stacey said.
“Three!” Lily yelled, throwing herself to the side.
“Oh, f…” Rhyme said, before a bullet slammed into the back of her head and blew her brains into pulp. She fell over, and Stacey put two more bullets into her chest.
“Ow, my freaking ears,” Lily said, getting to her feet. She snorted. “And my nose. This place smells like ass’s ass.”
“Turpentine and old paint,” Stacey said. “You shouldn’t be here, Lilypad.”
“I’m sorry,” Lily said. “I thought you were in trouble.”
“Helping people in trouble is my job, not yours,” Stacey said.
“Not anymore, anyway.”
“Not ever,” Stacey said. “Go see if you can find some bleach, or another can of turpentine.”
“Okay,” Lily said. She left the room while Stacey covered Rhyme’s body with her pistol, and came back with a mostly full can of paint thinner. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” Stacey said. “Spray it over the blood spatters.”
“Isn’t that like tampering with a crime scene?”
“No, because tampering with a crime scene is bad and wrong, and this is doing what I say, which is good,” Stacey said. “Rhyme’s blood is a safety hazard.”
“Okay, okay,” Lily said. She squirted the foul-smelling stuff over the blood and assorted other biological matter.
“I’m glad you figured out she was lying,” Stacey said.
“I didn’t,” Lily said. “But Rhyme’s body, Rhyme’s powers… if it is Athena, she wouldn’t mind us being careful. Not that I think it is Athena… it would be nice to think that someone else was flying around being a bitch in her… actually, I take it back. That wouldn’t be nice.”
“Cover your ears,” Stacey said. Lily did so and jumped back as Rhyme began to stir. Stacey put another bullet into her head. “You’d better run along and tell Seven where I am. I don’t want to run out of ammo before back-up arrives.”
“Okay,” Lily said. “Sorry I almost messed things up.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Stacey said. “You took a big stupid risk here, Lilypad… everything turned out okay, but things could have gone very, very badly.”
“I was just trying to help.”
“I know,” Stacey said. “But you could have helped more by listening to me when I told you to stay put.”
“I’m not really the put-stayin’ type,” Lily said.
“I know,” Stacey said, putting another round into Rhyme’s twitching body. “But you’ll learn.”
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