This is the second part of a fiction serial, in 799 words.
Wanting to kill your wife and actually doing it are two very different things. Unless you don’t care about geting caught and serving life for her murder of course. Then I could just have taken her birthday gift drill out of the box and drilled straight through her head with it.
But I didn’t want to get caught.
Lots of methods go through your mind. You can’t look them up online, as that might look suspicious if the police decide to seize your computer and mobile phone. No, it all has to be done from memory and invention, each possible method examined and discarded. Nothing can be written down either. Even if you burned the paper later, something like that could also be deemed suspicious.
Poison was out of the question, as that would show up in the post-mortem. It had to look like an accident, a tragic accident.
Even that doesn’t give you many options. You have to consider your alibi, as you mustn’t be in the vicinity of where that accident happened. They check your phone activations on masts too, so that has to have the battery removed. Might even be best to break the thing so it wasn’t working at all, then claim a replacement from the insurance later.
Accidents involving twenty-seven year-old women usually involve cars. Or horses, or swimming, or skiing, or cycles. They don’t often die by electrocution when fixing a fuse box, break their neck playing netball, or fall off a ladder while clearing gutters. They are unlikely to stab themselves in the groin and bleed out whilst filleting a leg of pork, or accidentally pour a whole kettle of boiling water over their head while making two cups of tea.
In fact, fatal accidents involving females under forty are surprisingly rare.
Tampering with her car was not going to work. If she died in a car accident they would be bound to investigate the vehicle. And if she only received minor injuries, there would be no point. She was far too fit and healthy to have a heart attack or stroke as she exercised at the gym, and it was too early for a smoking-related illness to free me from her. And she was such a strong swimmer, drowning seemed unlikely. Besides, she was always swimming with her friend.
It wasn’t long before I realised that I was going to have to do something physical to kill her, and make it look like an accident.
That also took a lot of thought. DNA wasn’t a problem, as we were married. If the accident happened in the home, it would not seem remotely suspicious that I was there at the time, as long as the cause of death looked completely accidental.
Eve didn’t know it, but she provided me with the perfect solution when she returned from a shopping trip one Saturday afternoon. Opening various bags, she delighted in showing me the things she had bought using credit card money we couldn’t afford to spend. New gym clothes, a thing like a wristwatch that monitored her pulse and blood pressure, assorted sensible underwear, some horrifically expensive Nike trainers, and a new pair of ‘going-out’ shoes.
Her voice rose to a squeal when she showed me the shoes. Red velvet, with huge spike heels that would probably add eight inches to her height. She slipped them on, and walked around the living room, the high arch of the shoes pitching her forward unnaturally until she got used to the feeling. Stopping by the front window, she raised one leg.
“Aren’t they just fabulous, Daniel? God knows I will never be able to dance in them, and I will have to get a taxi to meet the girls when I wear them, but it’s worth it. They were great value too, marked down to one hundred and fifty. Look, you can see the designer name on the sole”. Resisting the urge to complain about how much she had spent, I simply smiled and nodded.
Two weeks later, the night arrived. Meeting the girls in a restaurant at seven, taxi booked for six-thirty. After the meal, it was on to a club. One of her friends was thirty that day, and they were going to make a night of it She was upstairs getting ready when I casually wandered into the bedroom to tell her she looked nice. In fact, she looked like a prostitute, in my opinion. The dress that matched the shoes had probably cost as much as them, and there was hardly anything of it. Too low cut, and far too short.
Carrying the shoes in her left hand she walked out of the bedroom, with me following close behind.
That’s when I picked her up, and threw her head-first down the stairs.
This sounds like finding the best method killing housewives. Lol I think this serial could become a very good gift for fresh married ones. 🙂 xx Michael
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I should copyright it as an instruction manual, Michael. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Oh yes, with a license by The New Scoland Yard. :-)) xx Michael
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Reblogged this on OPENED HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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OMG Pete, I bought red shoes this Christmas and it’s as if you were in the kitchen when I showed them off to Larry and Dante (my son), I tried to walk in them and almost fell over! Bahaha! Thank God we have a ranch style house! This is a crazy start and I’m so loving it. Carry on (so to speak), xxoo, C
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Just as well you have no stairs, Cheryl! 🙂
Best wishes, Pete. x
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A very up to date man who has obviously watched every murder mystery on television. Of course even the cagiest can get caught out.
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You will have to wait a while to see where Danny gained his ‘experience’, Elizabeth.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Well, it’s going to be a wild ride I think for this tale!
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In a while, it goes into Danny’s past, John.
Best wishes, Pete.
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well he thought a lot how to kill her
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Yes, and he may well succeed. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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This has grabbed my interest from the start,
Angie
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Thanks, Angela. Part 3 coming up!
Best wishes, Pete.
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Danny Boy certainly doesn’t hang about when he gets an idea… Bye wifey 🙂 x
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You will find out more about Danny later. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete. x
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Normally I don’t guess ahead, but this screams for her to survive the fall. . .
Cheers Pete!
CT
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Perhaps best not to guess ahead, Chris. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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I suspect that Danny will get away with this one but slip up with another person (man or woman) somewhere down the road. I expect that once Danny has gone down this road once, he will do it again.
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They are good suspicions, Pete. Time wil tell.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Tomorrow. warmest regards, Theo
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Tomorrow indeed. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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bam! and how do you sleep at night, pete? )
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Very soundly as a rule, Beth. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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good to know, and amazing with your active imagination )
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Happy new year! 🎆
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Thanks very much, James. The same to you my friend.
Best wishes, Pete.
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(1a) Not actually overheard:
Eve: “Ooh! What’s this? Some kind of hand mixer for the kitchen?”
Danny: “It’s a power drill.”
Eve: “A what?”
Danny: “A power drill, Eve! Can’t you get that through your thick skull?”
(1b) Couldn’t Danny accidentally poison Eve while inadvertently drilling a hole in her head?”
(2a) Robert Redford, who would otherwise get along swimmingly with her, suggests a skiing accident in which Eve runs into an Electric Horseman.
(2b) Peter Dinklage suggests Eve fillet a leg of pork while standing on a ladder during a televised game of thrones (instead of netball), which is sure to distract her.
(2c) Margaret Hamilton suggests Danny pour a kettle of boiling water (although a bucket of cold water will do) on Eve, and then happily watch as she shrieks, “I’m melting! Melting!”
(3) I once had a pair of “going out” shoes. The problem was, they kept going out without me!
(4) “Stopping by the front window, she raised one leg.” Danny waved his arms frantically. “No, you bitch! Always use the fire hydrant!” (It was bad enough that she was always chasing after the mailman.)
(5) Overheard at the Pearly Gates:
The Angel Gabriel, with a suspicious eye: “Are you one of God’s children?”
Tuco Benedicto Pacífico Juan María Ramírez, making yet another sign of the cross: “I may be ugly, Mr. Gab, but yes! You can see the designer name on my soul.”
(6) “One of her friends was thirty that day.” Neo’s main nemesis, Agent Smith, is more prolific at self-replicating.
(7) Ah! I heard there was a spike in staircase deaths that year…
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You went with the spike in deaths, the only one of the seven I had anticipated. Well done, David.
Best wishes, Pete.
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She is/was a selfish bitch but murder is going a bit far. There’s a lot more to this story, eh Pete?
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Oh yes, lots more. It’s only part two. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Another one-liner punch at the end! Wow, Pete. You sure do deliver exciting episodes.
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Thanks, Jennie. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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You’re welcome! Best to you, Pete.
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Daniel planning the murder is too smart. But I didn’t realise he’d just go off and throw her downstairs. What’s going on his mind?
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All will be revealed, Devangi. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Erm . . why couldn’t Danny just leave her instead of murdering her?
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That would have been one option. You will have to wait and see why he didn’t. 🙂
Happy new year, you two! x
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And a most happy 2022 to you and Julie.
I reckon I need some background info on this Danny, he seems such an ordinary guy, not a thug even though he is frustrated. . ! Shakespeares’s the same, never any background info, straight into killing . .
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William was obviously my inspiration for this one. x
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Suspense….I like it.
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That’s good. 🙂
Thanks, Arlene.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Well he hasn’t wasted any time!
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Definitely not, Jude.
Best wishes, Pete. x
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I would probably have fallen down the stairs wearing those shoes!
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That’s why she was carrying them. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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If he puts them back on her feet then he might be in the clear.
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You are jumping ahead of the story, Stevie! 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Whoops…
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That was exactly my thought, Stevie!
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Great minds thinking alike, obviously. (All three of us)
Best wishes, Pete.
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Obviously. 😀
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Sounds like he needs a break, preferably the neck!
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He’s certainly not messing around!
Cheers, Pete.
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This one I like. 🙂
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Thanks, Lucinda. Happy to hear that.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Risky, he might have to finish her off yet.
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True. We will find out tomorrow. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Well that[s one way to do it!
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We will find out tomorrow if it worked. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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