I climbed up the steep mountain slope moving away from the burning wreck of the car that I had left my wife Kathy’s dead body in. It had been very easy. Kathy had never suspected anything. I had pretended to lose control of the car exactly at the right point. The car had plunged a considerable distance down the ravine before coming to a stop at the exact spot I had intended it to. Kathy had gotten out of the car with me. The first part of the plan had gone smoothly.

And just when Kathy’s back was turned to me I had crept behind her silently. I had quickly whipped out the handkerchief doused with Chloroform and clapped it on her face holding her in a vice-like grip from behind. She had struggled as much as she could before she slipped into unconsciousness. I had worked feverishly and pulled her body into the driver’s seat of the car. I had smashed the bonnet with the axe I had in the boot of the car and smashed the windows. I then started the engine and set fire to the car. Soon huge flames had enveloped the car with the body in it. I congratulated myself on a job well done.

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