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Diary of Death

 
June 7th 2012
At last, at long last, I have the bastard where I want him. Of course, I had to be subtle, I had to let him think that this remote island honeymoon was his idea. Poor fool, he doesn’t know I even suspect him. He’s had three rich wives all of whom have died in tragic circumstances so now he’s very wealthy. Wealthy but greedy. He won’t strike until at least the second week because our joint bank account won’t come into effect until then and he won’t want any complications.
June 8th:
We spent all morning on our sun loungers on the veranda drinking iced tea and watching the waves. John pretended to be sweet and read to me from his book of romantic poetry. Our houseboy, Cedric, prepared a superb lunch then we went for a swim. I wasn’t worried, John’s a wimp. He hasn’t the strength to drown me nor the courage to use violence.
June 9th:
John went to town to see the local doctor he said he had tummy cramps in the night. I sent Cedric on an errand and grabbed John’s tablet. He doesn’t know I have his password; hidden cameras are so useful when planning a murder. Oh! did I not say? I’ve had three rich husbands, John is my fourth, poor sap.
June 12th
John insisted we went sailing in the dinghy that comes with our beautiful bungalow. I have his measure now. He’ll poison me just enough to paralyse me then pop me in the dinghy and send me into the lagoon where the uncontrolled boat will capsize and I will drown. Oh, how wonderful! A plan worthy of myself.
June 14th
The last few days have been uneventful apart from trying to satisfy John’s sexual urges. God, he’s such a bore wham, bam, thank you, ma’am, and off to sleep. I’ll be glad when this is over.
June 15th
I got up early and went for a walk with my camera, the sea and the sky were magnificent but my mind is not on photography it’s on seduction. I decided to recruit the handsome Cedric, he could obtain the poison I need. The Ipoh tree grows on this island. The natives of old used to tip their blowpipe darts with the poison from its bark. A tiny dose of that will cause paralysis. I shall poison John and use his plan with the dinghy. Oh, I do love irony.
June 16th
I make cautious advances to Cedric, he’s twenty-one, well hung and rampant. I brush myself against him when John isn’t looking. He responds. In bed I give way to John’s five-minute fumbling and that, combined with the wine I’ve been plying him with, soon has him snoring.
I meet Cedric on the veranda and we make wild passionate love on John’s sunbed. God, I nearly screamed at the end, Cedric was so lithe, so athletic. He agreed to my plan and I promised we’d make love every night for ever. He was so easily persuaded.
June 17th
John was nervous at breakfast he said his tummy was playing up again but I knew different. Today’s the day. At John’s suggestion, we spent the morning on the sun loungers reading, well, I read whilst John stared out to sea. The Cedric brought us delicious iced tea. That was when John went to the toilet.

When he returned, he said his tummy felt a lot better, he seemed rather cheerful. I gazed into his eyes as I sipped my tea. I asked if I should get the houseboy to bring us more tea. He said he’d given him the afternoon off and anyway I’d had enough tea. I asked him what he meant and he told me he’d poisoned mine.
I laughed and told him I’d swapped glasses when he went to the loo. He wasn’t at all perturbed. ‘I knew you suspected me darling’ he said ‘that’s why I poisoned my glass not yours. I went to the loo to give you the opportunity to swap.

I asked how he proposed to get away with my murder. He told me that he’d bribed the local doctor to falsify my death certificate. He’d then have me cremated before shipping my ashes home so there’d be no chance of a second post mortem. He was so bloody smug ‘I gave the doctor a thousand now and another two thousand on receipt of your death certificate. That’s a year’s income for these simple interbred island folks. They are so easily bribed you know.’ God, I could have struck him but it’s not good form to strike the dying.

I could hardly contain myself. The trouble with a lot of clever people is that they sometimes assume they are the only clever people. I had noticed our glasses were not quite identical. John’s had a tiny chip in the rim so he’d know which glass was which. He’s very fussy about things like that. He’d never drink from a chipped glass.

I told him what I’d done. I’d poured his tea back into the jug them poured mine into his. I then poured the poisoned tea into my former glass. Oh, you should have seen his face.

 Hang on, the houseboy is back. I heard John’s surprised voice asking why he’d returned. The houseboy said it was to put our bodies into the dingy and send us into the lagoon. I’m listening at the door now. The houseboy said he’d poisoned the whole jug. John is shocked and asked him why.
‘Because you have £10,000 in cash and your wife’s jewellery is worth thousands more, sir.’

John is outraged. I hear him ask how the devil he knew about his plan. The boy is giggling ‘Well sir’ I hear him say, ‘my uncle is the local doctor.’
John is bawling now ‘Our families will demand the return of our possession, man, how the hell will you get away with it?’

‘Oh, that’s easy,’ he said ‘while we poor, interbred islanders are respectfully attending your cremations, sir, a sneak thief from another island will rob your bungalow. My other uncle, who is chief of police, will investigate most thoroughly.’

Oh, dear, my hands are going numb now, and my sight is fading. I’ll have to finish this diary and hide it in the hope someone finds it in the future.




blocat
Written by blocat
Published
Author's Note
Murderous people on honeymoon, dark comedy.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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