Tessa had amazing strength for a slim girl. She kept him supine while she clamped her mouth to his and assumed the dominant position. Nick had the odd sensation that he was the girl, she the man! Tessa appeared to want it that way.
When she finally convulsed it was a minor atomic explosion. She screamed shrilly and fell away from Nick, kicking her long legs frantically and tearing at the red satin sheets. She clawed at his naked chest with her nails, inflicting new wounds on the old. Nick caught at her and held her until gradually she subsided, her sobs and moans fading at last to a shallow breathing. She said nothing, just lay quietly face down. He could see a great stain of saliva on the sheet beneath her wide open, still gasping mouth. After another minute or so the tremors stopped and she was quiet.
"Tessa?"
"Don't talk now," she said harshly. "Not now! Let me rest first!"
It was a different tone, a different woman who spoke. No trace of the lubricious Tessa. No trace of drunkenness, either.
N3 got up and went to the bathroom. It was huge, of dazzling pink tile with golden fixtures. Nick was impressed, but only for a moment. He got it almost instantly. The smell! Acetone! Nail polish remover!
For the next minute Nick Carter stood silent and unmoving, staring at his reflection in the big mirror. His face wore an expression of great self disgust. He was looking at a fool! A fool who deserved the death that was being now held in careful storage for him!
Noiselessly he opened the medicine cabinet and stood looking at the bottles of FASTACT. Nail polish remover for girls in a hurry. Made in Chicago. There were three bottles of the stuff.
Nick closed the medicine cabinet door, flushed the toilet — though he had not used it — and went back into the bedroom. Tessa was still on the bed, breathing softly, face buried in the pillow.
Nick turned on the overhead lights. This would have to be fast. He went toward the bed. The girl rolled over, squinting into the light. "No!" she complained. "No — turn off those damned lights, honey! Little Tessa wants to sleep…"
Nick smiled. A gentle, tender, friendly smile. He was close to her, staring down into the lovely face, the narrowed green eyes. He said, "I think it's time for little Tessa to wake up."
Nick grabbed the red hair and pulled hard. The wig had been stuck on well and it came off with difficulty, but it came off.
The effect was startling! Those narrow green eyes, now blazing with shock and hate — and the sleek black hair in a man's style haircut!
Nick tossed the red wig to the floor. His face was set in grim planes. "Hello," he said in a cold voice. "Hello, Johnny Ruthless!"
Her reaction was nearly too fast even for Nick Carter. Her hand came from beneath the pillow like a bolt of lightning, clutching an old fashioned straight razor, the blade laid back across her knuckles in the manner of a true pro. She leaped at Nick, sweeping the killing edge around in a great semicircle designed to slash him from ear to ear!
N3's reaction was just a half-heart beat faster. He let her have it with a short jolting right hand on the point of the chin! The razor flew from her hand and she turned, stunned and with glassy eyes, and slid off the bed to the floor. Out cold.
Nick picked up that lovely soft body, slim enough to play the man so well — when the good breasts were strapped down — and tossed it back on the bed. The red mouth was open and she was making hoarse snoring sounds. A little saliva dribbled from the corner of her mouth. Nick ripped off her garter belt and bound her hands behind her. He peeled off both stockings and tied her ankles with them. He did it roughly. He was livid now, sweating and pale and full of a terrible anger directed in equal parts at the girl and himself. He hated stupidity, especially in himself — and he had been stupid! It had been there to see all along! Marion Talbot, who had vanished so completely at the Cinema Bleu! She had gone up that rope ladder — as Johnny Ruthless! After changing clothes and washing the nail polish off her nails! As a woman she had liked to wear nail polish — as Johnny Ruthless she couldn't! But FASTACT took care of that. One minute and the nails came clean! And left the smell behind.
When he had her securely tied he made a fast search of the villa. He did it expertly and professionally and speedily. When he came back to the bedroom the girl was just opening her eyes. They hated him with a fierce burning intensity. Nick sat down on the bed beside her. He had gotten into his stolen trousers. Now he threw the terry cloth robe over her naked breasts. He lit a cigarette and stuck it in the petulant mouth. He said: "You want to tell me all about it, Johnny? Marion Talbot? Tessa? Which is the real you, anyway?"
"Why should I tell you anything, Carter?" She stared at him in sullen defiance. "You're going to kill me anyway — the same as you did Maurice and Carlos and the doctor! Not that I feel sorry for them — they deserved it, the fools! I told them to let me handle you — my way!"
Nick smiled coldly. "I do owe the late doctor something, I suppose. You were going to cut my throat at the sanitarium?"
"Yes! But that fool wouldn't let me! He was an old woman — always worrying about his precious skin. I should have cut his throat!"
Nick shrugged. "What matter? He's dead now. The point is that they're all three dead — but you're still alive! You might be able to stay that way, at least for a time. If you talk. I promise I won't kill you. I'll be disobeying my orders — but I'll take that chance. I'll turn you over to the Turks — you'll face a murder charge for killing Leslie Standish, at least! I imagine you've killed a lot of people, but one charge will hang you. They do hang over here, don't they?"
The girl nodded absently. Nick could see a glint of hope in the green eyes, could read her thinking. Time! She would be gaining a little time. Maybe the Turks would hang her — and maybe they wouldn't! It was better than what she faced now. So she was thinking and so N3 wanted her to think.
She glanced at him sharply, shifting on the bed and straining at the garter belt which bound her hands. The terry cloth robe fell away from her splendid breasts and Nick replaced it. She was still wearing the high stilt heels and it occurred to him that she had never taken them off, not even when making love. Kook! A deadly murderous kook! He had known some weirdo women, but this one was the prize.
"You promise you won't kill me?" It was a demand. She was getting her guts back, he thought. Our little razor expert isn't so scared now.
"I promise / won't kill you," Nick said. "That's all I promise. I'll turn you over to the Turks and you'll stand trial for murder. I think they'll hang you — the Turks aren't very sentimental about beautiful girls who commit murder. I hope they hang you! But if you play ball with me at least you'll have a few more weeks of life. Trials take time. Well?"
"All right." Sullenly. "I'll do it. What do you want to know?"
Nick lit another cigarette for them both. He moved her, not too roughly, and searched the bed thoroughly. No more razors concealed in the pillows. Nothing. He took the garter belt from her wrists and left her hands free. He kept the stockings bound around her ankles.
"To save time," he said, "I'll tell you what I already know. I've been through the house. Found some very interesting things, too."
The girl relaxed. She smoked and stared at him with narrow green eyes, a little smile on her red lips. The terry cloth robe fell away from her breasts. She appeared not to notice it.