She poured poison into the spaghetti sauce. After, Alice sniffed the vile. It was odorless. She trusted it was also tasteless. The poison had come highly recommended by several internet websites. The sites said: alone, the poison was benign, but, when mixed with alcohol, it caused cardiac arrest. Tonight, Alice would pour the wine, but she would not drink it.
She had not started dating Tony with the intention of killing him. Murdering him was the furthest thing from her mind the night of their first kiss. And when she said she would marry him, she meant it, and proved it by actually marrying him, all the while, never thinking of murdering her groom.
No, she had no idea she would kill her husband until she found him cheating with her younger sister. Alice found them in the guest house, though, the adulturers had never known they had been caught. She had wanted to kill them right then and there, but, instead, her rational side took over and she crept away to plan their murders.
‘Why should I go to jail and suffer for their sins?‘ she wondered, then decided revenge was a dish best served cold blooded.
While planning the perfect murder, the rage she had for her little sister dissipated, moved like osmosis to Tony, who, she knew, in all fairness, had to die. But her baby sister, Laura, had to live.
But, Tony had to die and so she set out to kill Tony and get away with it. She googled: how to get away with murder. Alice spent the next few nights sifting through the internet until she came across, hydrachloride, a chemical that is hard to detect, that on its own can be taken like salt, but, when mixed with alcohol, is 100% fatal.
“Bon appetite,” Alice said to her husband, setting down a plate of spaghetti.
Tony wasn’t in the mood to talk, his mind was on his afternoon with his wife’s sister. He filled his mouth with his wife’s famous spaghetti sauce. It tasted a little off, but, Tony attributed it to his guilt, rather than the fact he was being poisoned.
“It’s delicious,” he lied, stuffing more poison rich spaghetti sauce into his face. Alice loved watching him eat.
“Enjoy your wine. I bought Bolivian, your favorite.”
“Cheers!” Tony lifted his glass. Alice followed suit.
“Cheers!” She toasted, brought the glass to her mouth but she didn’t drink.
Tony did, and immediately started clutching his chest, then, fell face first into his spaghetti. Alice took her time walking across the room, stopping to leaf through a magazine, before retrieving her phone and dialing 911.
The paramedics pronounced Tony dead on the scene, obvious heart attack victim. They wheeled him out with a sheet over his face, and Alice pretended to cry at his funeral, like she pretended to hug her baby sister, who looked a hell of a lot more devastated at the loss of Tony.
Alice would remarry, though, when the time came, she would use the old fashioned method of divorce to get out of it. Dealing with lawyers and her ex taught her murder is less messy than divorce. She figured she’d keep that in mind, should she want to marry again.