I let out a gasp. "Dick? You killed Dick?"

"Not on purpose. Weren't you listening? It was an accident."

I remembered the ice cream Dick had offered me earlier. Had that been the one laced with poison? I felt my throat close at the thought. "You poisoned Dick just like you did Andy. You put dimethyl sulfate in that ice cream today!"

Jane looked surprised. "Do you think I'm crazy? I never would have taken dimethyl sulfate into the country. That stuff is poison. You can die just by inhaling it. I used something quite benign. In fact, I take it myself. Synthroid."

"Oh yeah? If it's so benign, how come Dick is dead?"

"Because I gave him too much. I'd planned on giving Lucille a series of overdoses to kill her, the little cheat. But with Dick's heart condition, one overdose was enough to kill him. An excess of thyroid hormone can wreak havoc on the body's metabolic system."

I was beginning to question the wisdom of her telling me all this. Throughout movie history, when the murderer starts spilling his guts, it usually spells curtains for anyone within earshot. Since I was within earshot, I suspected her confession meant curtains for me. Not exactly the way I'd planned to spend my last evening in Switzerland. But one thing was for sure. Jane Hanson was bonkers.

I slid my hand into the pocket of my slacks. "How did you kill Andy if you didn't bring the poison into the country with you?"

"That was easy. He bought new disposable contact lenses the day before we left, so I laced a free sample of his rewetting solution with the dimethyl sulfate. He must have used it right away because, as you know, he didn't last too long after we got here."

"That's so diabolical," I fired at her. "What was in the glass you just brought out of the bathroom and wanted me to drink?"

She looked confused. "Water. You needed something to wash down the Motrin."

"You didn't put any poison in it?"

"Uff da, Emily. I'm a druggist. I have ethics to uphold."

Like I believed that. "I should have known it was you," I accused as I wrapped my hand around my Swiss Army knife. "You had the easiest access to the poison. You probably keep it right in the pharmacy."

"We don't keep dimethyl sulfate anywhere near the pharmacy. I bought a liter of it at a chemical recycling website on-line. You can buy anything on-line these days, Emily. Groceries. Poison. Love. I should think you'd know that."

She wrapped the ends of her belt around her wrists and snapped it tight between her hands like a clothesline. Or a garrote. Unh-oh. Last time I checked, strangulation wasn't high on my list of favorite ways to die.

She took a step toward me.

I took a step back. "Okay," I said in desperation. "You guessed right about who was on the phone. It wasn't Wally. It was the police. They're on their way over here right now, so if I were you, I'd make a run for it before it's too late."