Lamb to the Slaughter
I am Mary Maloney, wife of a distinguished and respected policeman of high status, yet I sit on a tattered couch alone in the middle of the night, feeling a tad guilty but also relieved. You might be wondering, since he is a policeman, he should be extremely busy and might not come back for the night, right? That would have been and should have been the case, but it isn't.
Right now, although I should be having my precious sleep, for the baby within me and I, it is not possible for me right now. It seems that the only way I may get sleep is to break the story to you.
So I sat on the couch, awaiting the engine of my husband's car. It certainly came, about 5 minutes later. I rushed over to open the door for him, and kissed him on the cheek, as was routine, and poured a cup of whisky for him. Everything about him was normal, but just physically. As he stepped into the house, he remained silent and ignored every single question I inquired. Thrusting away the uneasiness that gripped me, I assumed he was just hungry, didn't have a good day at work, bla bla bla. Oh, how wonderful if that had been the case, but it wasn't.
All he did was gesture for me to go closer, and he seemed to have something on his mind. Well, he said something terrible(something about a divorce) and I shall not repeat it so as not to remind myself of his cruelty. After that, I suffered the worst shock in my life. My mind was numb, I couldn't bring myself to move, everything was a blank. Finally recovering from petrification, I consoled myself, thinking that he was just hungry, that was just a joke, whatsoever. So I suggested, "Why not let me cook some supper for the both of us and try to work things out when we have more energy?"I knew I had a gigantic leg of lamb and it would be just right for us. As I entered the kitchen, his grave voice sounded threatening, serious, "Try and stop me." That was the last straw, I retrieved the leg of lamb from the freezer, which was frozen solid, exactly like a club. I moved silently behind him, and with impulse and hatred, sent the flying club cracking into his skull without hesitation.
It was simple as ABC. I killed him, I stopped him, I had satisfied my desire for revenge, that was it. To make an alibi, I put the leg of lamb in the oven to make it seem as though we were deciding to have a good supper, and pretended to act as cheerful as possible and went to the grocer for a basket of vegetables. Back in the house, his corpse lay on the floor. There was this unusually peaceful serenity in the atmosphere. To fake the scene and make it more chaotic, I dumped all the documents and books etc. from the cardboards onto the floor. I even teared the couch, which might seemed to be a regret now. Once satisfied, I dialled for the police, who arrived at the crime scene within minutes. They could see the grief in my eyes, which undoubtedly is faked, but still began questioning me about how things went about in the house after he got home. They believed me word for word for I was no stranger, being their colleague's wife, but I could sense they knew there was something fishy about the case. Therefore, they decided to search for the murder weapon, which was only in the oven! To pull them back to the track I wanted them to be, I invited them to supper, which they only agreed after much persuasion. Guess what was for supper! Leg of lamb, thats right, and so, I have destroyed the leg of lamb, A.K.A evidence or murder weapon. That was pure ingenious. Well, it didn't take them long to get back to work, but they did not make any progress. Finally, they left after fatigue got the better of them.
Back to the present, I have mixed feelings: Relieved, because the police have yet to find any evidence. Guilty, for the baby or the dead 'husband' I know not. But one thing is for sure, there are two people who shall share my memory: Baby and Father.
6:06 PM
