1872

"Frank is to come back soon. Prepare the bath for him. How is dinner going?"

"It will take a bit longer."

"Well, but don't serve it cold. Now go prepare the bath, quick. And remember that Frank likes the water specially hot."

"Of course, Mrs. Banks."

Mina left the room and Constance returned her attention to the arrangement of the flowers of the vase in the hall. Frank spent almost all day in the bank and she had to entertain herself as she could. Constance did not compain really, it was good to live in a big, clean house in which there were no animals to feed and clean, no field to work and finally had someone to do a great part of the chores for her, a sixteen-year-old girl whose real name was unknown for Constance. She was still accostumed to do a great amount of work everyday and that was the reason why she did not entrust her everything: the first month she dedicated herself only to meetings and shopping, she felt extremely bored. Fortunately, there was always something to do in a house like that with only one maid.

That helped her stop thinking about Ambrose. For the last three years, she had not thought about anything else. She feared that in every moment a policeman would come and take her to jail, and it was not pleasant at all. "No, don't think about that. The past is the past.", she told herself whenever she remembered that dreadful night. All the questions, her eyes irritated after days and days of crying, living with Mrs. Harper and Elizabeth...Gosh, if dealing with that pair of witches was unpleasant, she could not understand how she beared having to hear their whines, their endless interrogation about what happened, their 'oh, ooooh!'...No, everything was in the past. Including them. She knew they were upset about her getting married two years after Ambrose's murder, her mother had sent her a letter complaining about that as well, but she changed her mind when she met Frank. The Harpers also met him but did not seem too convinced. Constance could not care less about their opinion so she gave them the farm and left with Frank. If they sold it or kept it as a memory of Ambrose, she did not know. She did not care either. They barely wrote her and she read their letters with no interest to burn them in the chimney when she finished and replied with all the courtesy expected from her. In a few years, they would forget completely about her. After all, they cried for Ambrose; they would have been perfectly fine if the one decapitated had been Constance.

The fact that Frank fell in love with her even if she wore those horrendous black dresses and acted as a poor widow was a very good sign. If there had been any kind of suspicion, people would have noticed and she would have been alone. She supposed that she had represented her role very well. The police ceased bothering her with her inquiries and since they found no jewels, no witnesses apart from her and no weapons that could have been used in the crime, the investigation had to be closed, for the Harper family's grief. As law stated, since Ambrose had no last will, Constance became the propietary of his farm, all that it contained and his fortune. With time, the newspapers forgot about the happening, and so did the people.

"Constance? I'm home, honey!"

The noise of the door opening and some loud steps anticipated Frank's coming. He was way different from Ambrose, not only concerning the dedication and importance of his businesses, but also in appearance: he was much taller than Constance and most of the men she had met in her life, and, though he was young, he was not a boy at all, something that his elegant moustache made more evident. He was not shy at all, in fact, he was one of the best-known men of the community, member of dozens of asociations, had a charge of great responsibility in the bank and had great investments in United Kingdom and Cuba. Mrs. Burton defined him quite well when they were introduced in that ball they were invited saying that he was a man with inititative.

"Hello, Frankie.", Constance walked to him with some of the flowers in her hand and kissed his lips softly. "How are you?"

"Tired but thanking God for giving me a wife so patient as you are. Is roast chicken what I'm smelling?

"Yes."

"Mr. Banks, the bath is ready for you.", Mina's voice was heard from upstairs.

"The crowning jewel of a perfect day!"

Frank was about to ascend the stairs when Constance stopped him halfway clearing softly her throat.

"Uh...Frankie...I don't know if you remember..."

"Yes?", he asked, turning to her.

"We still have to decide if we are going to accept the invitation of your friend Paul to stay in their house. The trip is next week, so...We'd better..."

"Oh, darling, I forgot...", Frank, joining his hands with regret in his face. "Oh, Jesus...I'm so sorry, dear, but I have a meeting with Mr. Tomlinson. I would pospone it but he is only going to stay in the country for a week...This is a very important deal, I've been waiting for this moment for months and I can't..."

"It's alright, it's alright, I understand perfectly.", Constance drew a smile.

"I was sure you would. You don't know how sorry I am."

"Don't worry...Businesses are first..."

He descended the stairs and caressed her cheeks. Constance tried to avoid looking like a selfish little girl who didn't get what she wanted but she had been preparing that trip for months. She was eager to have a nice time out of the time, just she and Frank.

"I promise this won't happen again.", Frank said. "My sweet girl, don't be sad. I hate seeing you like that. You know? I brought something special for you. I was going to give it to you after dinner but I want you to see it now. Come."

He took her hand and led her to the velvet armchair in the hall where he had left his case and some packages. He took a parcel with a purple ribbon and gave it to her.

"What is this?", Constance asked, holding the package in her hand, looking at it and then back at him.

"Open it and you will see."

Constance was quick to obey. She opened the parcel with almost no care at all and her mouth and eyes opened wide when she saw the content. It was a silk, green dress, the most beautiful she had ever seen, with a sash ribbon decorated with floral motifs.

"Oh, Frankie!"

"This is for Mrs. Burton's Christmas party. Last time we were there, you were beautiful like an angel but had to wear that sad, black dress. I was waiting to see you with a dress as pretty as you."

"Frank...Oh...It's so..."

"Do you like it?"

"Of course I do! Thank you! But darling, my favourite color is not green, it's blue."

"Oh, silly me! Let's do something.", he opened his wallet and gave Constance a good amount of bills. "Here. Tomorrow is my birthday. Buy one of Jones' cakes and a hat to match your new dress. Remember that we have that dinner with the Hoffmans."

Constance took the money with a smile and counted it.

"But there's too much in here, I don't need so much money.", she said.

"Well, then buy one more dress, or two. A blue one."

Frank went up the stairs and Constance walked to the living room, counting the bills again. It always looked like if Frank had indefinited money to spend. 'Hard work has its reward', her mother always said.

The idea of getting married again had not been so terrible after all. At first, she only accepted Frank's proposal because it was better to live with a man she barely knew than being trapped with the Harpers and having to follow their strict mourning. But seeing all his kind gestures, she was glad to have said 'yes'. Knowing that she lost her first husband in horrible circumstances, he did things carefully, with no rush. She could have gotten accostumed to that life.

Constance had been waiting until Frank ended his meal, drank his brandy and lit his cigarette to ask him. It was something she had observed from her parents and that time had confirmed as the best way to request something to a man. With their stomaches full after a long, tiring day, they were more complacient.

"Frankie."

"Yes?"

"I was thinking...Maybe we could go to Washington next weekend. If you don't have anything to do, of course..."

Frank watched the smoke of his cigarette rise to the ceiling in thought. After some seconds, he looked at Constance.

"Impossible. Mr. Night has invited me to hunt in his reserve for three days. Uhm, sorry but I couldn't convince him of taking you with me...You know that he-"

"...I understand.", of course she knew. Mr. Night, the manager of the bank, was famous for his firm rejection of marriage. He explicitly said in some occasions that women were a very expensive distraction, and accepted the wives of his employees and friends in social events but he was a bit cold with them and they were not invited in private reunions such as that hunting games.

Well, being three days all alone won't be so bad...After all, he works all day and I have some friends to have fun with...

But she really wanted to go to Washington D.C, she had planned that trip for a long time. Almost everything was arranged. It irritated her that those stupid bosses and investors spoiled it all and that Frank accepted...Well, it was his job, thanks to that they had a pretty house and food in their dishes...But it was not fair. She never spoiled Mina's plans.

She did not resign to be at home boring herself to death. Constance took air, caressing one pearl of the necklace that he bought her for their wedding with her thumb and index fingers, and tried again.

"Maybe...Maybe we could do something before you go. The weather's so nice..."

"Excellent, I'd say. However...", Frank's face flinched a bit and Constance knew what the answer would be. "These days there is a lot of work to do in the bank...I'm ending up so tired that all I want is to get in bed and sleep for hours. And, well, you have no idea about how sick I get with the pollen."

Constance bent her head a bit and nodded. Frank gave the last drag to his cigarette, put it out in the ashtray, got up from the table and walked to her to kiss her cheek. The smell of the tobacco was mixed with the pleasant touch of lavender after his bath.

"I'm so sorry, my dear. I really am. When all this calms down, I promise I will take you wherever you want. I give you my word."

Constance replied nothing but allowed him to kiss her again. Then, she turned to him and kissed him in the lips.

"Sorry, Frank...I guess I'm being a little selfish."

"Don't worry, my love.", he dedicated her a side smile, kissed her again and turned to the door. "I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Good night."

Frank had barely left the dining room when Constance's expression changed. She could not believe it. All she wanted was to have a good time with her husband, was she asking so much?

That condescending smile...How she hated it!

"Did you finish, Mrs. Banks?"

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Mina by her side.

"Uh, yes."

Mina nodded, took her plate and glass and went to the kitchen to wash everything used in the dinner. Constance decided that she could not stay in there for any longer or she would think the she was crazy. She got up from the chair and walked to the living room. She took a book from the library without even paying attention to the title and tries to distract herself with it but she could not concentrate and read the same line a million times, thinking about something else.

Why did Frank marry her if all he did was related to his job? Was having a wife in his to-do list, something to cross and froget once he achieved it? It almost looked like if he was married with the confounded bank, not she!

The comfort was nice, she had money to spend and intimacy but she did not like the price she had to pay for that. She had never felt so alone in her life. At least she did things with Ambrose; with Frank...she only spent time with him when he came back home after work! She escaped from the solitude and boredom of widowhood to get into something very similar.

To be alone with his money...

Constance closed the book and fixed her eyes on the carpet. A sudden thought made her leave the book on the coffee table, get up and walk, almost run, to the guestroom, passing by the stairs. A weak light came from the bedroom, where Frank was probably putting his pijamas on.

There, under the mattress...There it was. The hatchet that she used to end with Ambrose's life.

For a moment, she did not remember why it was there. It was crazy, like if it had a mind of its own and had decided to follow her to her new house and remind her of her crime. Ridiculous, demential. Then, she remembered that she took it herseld. She had been so obsessed in her attempt to erase any kind of trace of her crime that she decided to replace the hatchet for a new one and take the hatchet with her the last day she was in the farm to get rid of it. For some reason, she could not do it and hid it in her house. She was not fully aware of the reasons but there it was, its blade shining bright...showing her the way...

No...This is not like last time...I'm not a murdress...

You are, dear...Ambrose is pushing up daisies, who's fault is that? The only reason why you are here is because you killed him

...It is too risky...Mina is here...

That is no problem. She is washing the dishes and won't come into the room without your permission

But Frank...

Frank doesn't love you. If he did, he wouldn't invent so many excuses to be with you. Why resigning yourself with the little money that he gives you to keep you content when you can have all his fortune? After all, he is never there to enjoy it. What is the difference? Come on, Mina is busy

Constance nodded to herself and walked out of the room. She climbed the stairs and waited almost in the second floor until the light from the bedroom extinguished. Then, after making sure that no one was around, she walked to the door and came in. The bedroom was dark but the light of the moon through the window was enough to guide her to the headboard. She doubted that Frank was already asleep but she stepped silently to surprise him. She did not need any screams or fights. To avoid that, before going to his encounter, opened as quietly as possible the chest of drawers in which she had her stockings and took one, making a ball with it. Now she was prepared to do it. Her heart beated to fast but she did not feel afraid. It was like one of those games she played when she was little, in which one boy was in the center of a circle and another had to take the keys from him without making a single noise.

Frank was lying on the bed with his eyes closed and a expression full of peace. The floor squeaked a bit at her feet when she was staring at him but instead of stopping Constance, it made her lose no time. In the exact moment when Frank opened his eyes at that sound and turned his head to the figure that was standing before him, he only had a second to realize what was happening, a second that Constance used to introduce the stockings in his mouth. Then, while Frank was choking, she took advantage of his shock and her evident superiority to drag him out of bed. She did not want to stain the sheets with blood and have one more problem to solve. He emitted gutural sounds, waved his arms and legs but Constance was quick to trample his chest and offer him a smile before cutting his head. His groans ceased immediately.

Constance breathed hard and deep after it. Sweat was running down her forehead and chest but she could not stop. Not now. There was too much to do.

She walked out of the room and listened. She still heard the dishes being arranged, it looked like Mina would spend a bit more time doing her work, after which she would go to her room. Constance rushed to the bathroom and took some of the towels that Frank had left for the laundry, towels that no one would miss. With them, she cleaned the blood that squirted out of the body. At first, she was afraid that it would be unstoppable but, luckily, with the towels she brought was enough and it stopped bleeding soon. She would clean the floor better when Mina went to bed, in that moment at least the blood was gone and the remainings were not visible from the door. Constance stopped to think for a moment and after a couple of minutes she had an idea of how she would do things this time.

She pulled the body under the bed, the hatchet and the head too. She made sure that the bedspread covered it well enough and the corpse did not form a new pool of blood, covering the cut with the towels. What would she do with them? She thought about that while she descended the stairs and returned to the living room. The noises from the kitchen had ceased and Mina would come soon. She made sure that the blood did not stain her clothes, luckily no, and sat again to read the book...Well, pretend she was reading. If she could not concentrate before, now it was completely impossible. Five minutes later, Mina appeared at the door.

"I'm going to bed. If there is something else you want me to do..."

"Oh, if Frank is still up, please remind him to take his pills to sleep.", Constance said.

"Alright. Good night, Mrs. Banks."

"Good night, Mina, thank you."

The girl left and Constance waited until she heard no movement. The steps that were taken upstairs were perfectly audible from there. With her eyes on the pages of the book, she waited. Four minutes later, Mina reappeared.

"Mr. Banks is not in the bedroom. I've been looking for him but he is not around.", she told her.

"Well...Maybe he is busy with his papers somewhere. Go to bed, I will go to sleep soon and tell him myself.", Constance replied.

"As you please. Sleep well."

"Good night."

Again the steps crossing the corridor upstairs, walking around the room and then...Silence. Constance left the book in its place in the shelf and turned off the lights. She waited for a few minutes for Mina to fall asleep, ellaborating her plan mentally, until she thought that it was enough. The clock in the living room announced that it was eleven o'clock. Constance was not tired at all, in fact, all that adventure was extremely thrilling for her because this time there was a witness in the house. She returned to the bedroom and hid the hatchet not in the mattress but inside her pillow. No one would look for it there. Then, she took Frank's body out from under the bed from the wrists and thought for a moment. If she dragged it out, she could make too much noise and it would take her a long time. How could she take the body to the garden? She gasped softly when she came up with the solution. With a bit of difficulty, she dragged the body to the window, opened it and threw it from there. It fell with a 'plaf!', after which she bit her under lip and walked to the door to listen if Mina had been woken up by that noise. But she heard nothing at all, in the house there was only silence and darkness. So she took the head, avoiding to look at those still frightened eyes and that open mouth and dropped it too. 'Plof!'. Then, she walked out of the house, something that took her some minutes because she walked slowly to avoid producing any kind of sound.

In the little of the gardener she found a shovel that could be of great use but had to use carefully. She hoped that the sound did not attract anyone's attention. Again, to avoid that possibility, she dug carefully, slowly, and looking in every direction but the hole she was doing. In what seemed like an eternity, she made a not very deep pit. Her intention was never bury the corpse and forget about it, so it was enough. It was probably midnight when she dragged the body into the hole and dropped the head between his legs.

"Happy birthday, Frankie.", she muttered. Immediately after, she covered her husband's face with soil.

The ground had been obviously manipulated and there was something buried there. Constance was satisfied. They would find him soon. Before coming into the house again, she shook the dirt out of her dress and returned with the same cautiousness as before to her bedroom. The silence comforted her. She changed herself and put her nightgown on. Before getting in bed, she made sure that everything was in its place: the body was in a place where it could be found easily, the blood had been cleaned, Mina had seen her in the living room all the time, the weapon was with her...Good.

She laid in bed and covered herself with the sheets. It was crazy to think that she would fall asleep after all that had happened that night. When she killed Ambrose, she was awake until exhaustion made her sleep in a couch in the Burtons' house. However, she would be surprised the following morning to find that not only did she fall asleep but it happened very soon.

A extremely loud scream woke Constance up. It took Constance some moments to clear her head and realize that a new morning had come and that she knew perfectly the reason of the yell. However, she did not get up immediately. She took her time to stretch her limbs and stare at the emptiness in Frank's side of the bed. Then, she got up, put her rob on and rushed to the back side door. She found Mina in the doorstep, covering her mouth with her hands, her eyes open wide with horror. Constance approached to her.

"Mina! What's wrong? What are those screams about?", she asked her.

She turned her head to the garden. The gardener, Mr. Dann, walked to her with an expression just as horrified as the maid's, with his hands spread trying to cover what was lying on the ground behind him but, of course, Constance saw it. The half-buried corpse of her husband. It was time to play the actress again. Her own experience and the study of the expressions of the ladies that saw Ambrose's corpse made her have a better idea of what her reaction should be. First, she placed her hand on her chest. Then, she wobbled a bit and opened her mouth, trying to utter Frank's name. Finally, she closed her eyes and let herself fall to the floor.

"Mrs. Banks!", Mina exclaimed.

It was complicated to fake a faint but she hope she did it alright. At least, Mina shook her and begged the gardener to help her with her. In some minutes, she would end up with that farce and do as she did with Ambrose: cry, answer the Police's questions and start the mourning. This time she did not feel so bad about it. It was a very tedious process but the reward was great. Frank was gone and her fortune had magically increased. How could have she waited five months to do it?

Curious. Widowhood has brought me much more happiness than marriage