bed.”
“How did you know she was dead?”
“What?”
“Kimberley Myers. How did you know she was dead? You said it all happened so fast, you barely caught a glimpse of her before the attack.”
“I… I suppose I just assumed. I mean, she was lying there naked on the bed with a yellow rope around her neck. Her eyes were open. It was a reasonable assumption to make.”
“Okay,” said Annie. “So you never thought of yourself as saving her, as rescuing her?”
“No. It was what was happening to Dennis that concerned me.”
“And what you thought was going to happen to you next?”
“Yes.” Janet sipped some more water. A little of it dripped down her chin on to the front of her gray T-shirt, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“So you got your baton out. What next?”
“I told you. He came at me with this crazy look in his eye.”
“And he lashed out at you with his machete?”
“Yes. I deflected the blow with my baton, the side against my arm, like they taught us. And then when he’d swung, before he could bring it back into position again, I swung out and hit him.”
“Where did the first blow land?”
“On his head.”
“Where exactly on his head?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t concerned about that.”
“But you wanted to put him out of commission, didn’t you?”
“I wanted to stop him from killing me.”
“So you’d want to hit him somewhere effective?”
“Well, I’m right-handed, so I suppose I must have hit him on the left side of his head, somewhere around the temple.”
“Did he go down?”
“No, but he was dazed. He couldn’t get his machete in position to strike again.”
“Where did you hit him next?”
“The wrist, I think.”
“To disarm him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you succeed?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do next?”
“I kicked the machete into the corner.”
“What did Payne do?”
“He was holding his wrist and cursing me.”
“You’d hit him once on the left temple and once on the wrist by this time?”
“That’s right.”
“What did you do next?”
“I hit him again.”
“Where?”
“On the head.”
“Why?”
“To incapacitate him.”
“Was he standing at this point?”
“Yes. He’d been on his knees trying to get the machete, but he got up and came at me.”
“He was unarmed now?”
“Yes, but he was still bigger and stronger than me. And he had this insane look in his eyes, as if he had strength to spare.”
“So you hit him again?”
“Yes.”
“Same spot?”
“I don’t know. I used my baton in the same way. So yes, I suppose so, unless he was half turned away.”
“Was he?”
“I don’t think so.”
“But it’s possible? I mean, it was you who suggested it.”
“I suppose it’s possible, but I don’t see why.”
“You didn’t hit him on the
“I don’t think so.”
Janet had started to sweat now. Annie could see beads of it around her hairline and a dark stain spreading slowly under her arms. She didn’t want to put the poor woman through much more, but she had her job to do, and she could be hard when she needed to be. “What happened after you hit Payne on the head a second time?”
“Nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing?”
“Nothing. He kept coming.”
“So you hit him again.”
“Yes. I took the baton in both hands, like a cricket bat, so I could hit him harder.”
“He had nothing to defend himself with at this time, right?”
“Only his arms.”
“But he didn’t raise them to ward off the blow?”
“He was holding his wrist. I think it was broken. I heard something crack.”
“So you had free rein to hit him as hard as you liked?”
“He kept coming at me.”
“You mean he kept moving toward you?”
“Yes, and calling me names.”
“What sort of names?”
“Filthy names. And Dennis was groaning, bleeding. I wanted to go to him, to see if I could help, but I couldn’t do anything until Payne stopped moving.”
“You didn’t feel you could restrain him with handcuffs at this point?”
“No way. I’d already hit him two or three times, but it seemed to have no effect. He kept coming. If I’d gone in close and he’d got hold of me he’d have strangled the life out of me.”
“Even with his broken wrist?”
“Yes. He could have got his arm across my throat.”
“Okay.” Annie paused to make some notes on the pad in front of her. She could almost smell Janet Taylor’s fear, and she wasn’t sure if it was residual, from the cellar, or because of present circumstances. She drew out the note-making process until Janet started shifting and fidgeting, then she asked, “How many times do you think you hit him in all?”
Janet turned her head to one side. “I don’t know. I wasn’t counting. I was fighting for my life, defending myself against a maniac.”
“Five times? Six times?”
“I told you.
“I’ve almost finished now, Janet,” said Annie. “Then I’ll leave you be.”
“Okay.”
“You managed to get him to stay down, didn’t you?”
