"My unit--?"
"Yes," She gestured to the dead man. "Put it on him."
"What--?"
"I said, put it on him." All the flatness was back in Myrtle's voice.
In a numb, aching void of silence, Horning obeyed.
"Set the dials for 701-G-0060."
Horning's fingers went stiff. He looked up at his wife, hardly
believing his own ears. "You mean...?"
"I mean, I'm going to the world that murdering monster in our basement
came from!" Myrtle's breasts rose and fell in a sudden tempest of
emotion. She was breathing noisily, too fast. The greying hair fell
over her face, and her eyes were drawn to hot black pinpoints. "You
wanted to get rid of me, didn't you? You were ready to try anything
short of murder or sending me to the madhouse? So I'm leaving you here.
That other woman had a fortune. I'll have a better life in her place
than you ever gave me!"
"But this man here...."
"He died a natural death. That's all I care about. I'll be a widow--a
wealthy widow...."
* * * * *
The words went on, but Horning hardly heard. He sagged back against the
workbench--shaken, unable to speak. It was as if, of a sudden, he were
seeing his wife through new eyes.