Plotting to kill your spouse isn't easy...what do you do when there's nothing left to lose?

Health Problems

by Edward Moore

Heat.

Not just middle of August heat, or some strip of asphalt, brick or cement pavement heat. This heat reminded Alice of the place she had come to when life with her parents wasn't enough, and the one-bedroom shack she shared with her lover seemed like a gift from some god who understood what she needed most.

"We can do this."

"Joyce ... I'm not sure ... I don't know."

It wasn't just the heat in the unforgiving tiny three window bedroom that surrounded Alice . It was a special heat, arriving without warning, blossoming like a dragon that slept through the ages. It made her soul hungry to connect to her other self; the one she misplaced on purpose, one she found after he betrayed her and their marriage crumbled.

"There's no other way."

"There has to be."

"There isn't," Joyce said. "It's getting harder and harder. You just don't know what it's like...”

"Then just divorce him!"

Joyce didn't respond as she caressed Alice 's back. "He's not manly you know. He's meek ... and I can't stand it when he touches me," she cooed softly as she gently traced the edges of Alice 's lips with her index finger.

Alice felt that heated flash no circulating fan could cool, nor chilled Dom Perignon quench. It had been waiting for her the moment she opened her eyes and it led her here.

Closing her eyes she licked Joyce's fingertips. "They say the meek shall inherit the earth."

"Give him six feet of it."

The balcony doors were slightly opened, allowing a light breeze crossing the St. John's River to gently flicker the jasmine and lavender scented candles in the room. With help from lace curtains filtering the moonlight, the candle lights gave the room a sense of intimacy, which coupled with that evening's wine tore away any chains of inhibition.

Before meeting Joyce, she was living a life devoid of most social intimacy, working as Assistant Director of Internal Medicine at St. Lutheran Hospital in Jacksonville , Florida . Until nine months past she hadn't had a significant relationship since her marriage ended during her sophomore year at Kansas State University .

They met at the annual charity ball the hospital hosts for cancer research. As CEO of the most prominent shipping company in town, Carl used his political influence to get Joyce a seat on the hospital board. Joyce used her influence to have Alice replace Carl's recently deceased physician.

Alice shifted her body, prompting Joyce to let her up.

"It's impossible," Alice said. "I've already told you that."

"And I told you what Carl had me sign."

"Is the money that important?"

Joyce sighed. "Yes. How do you suppose we live? Off what you make? We can't live off that."

Seeing Alice 's face turn as pale as blown storm water, Joyce leaned over and apologized, saying she didn't mean to hurt her feelings. Taking a deep breath, Alice held Joyce at arms length, "I don't think I can kill someone!"

"You don't have to. I've got something better in mind."

Alice 's brow wrinkled as her left eyebrow rose in puzzlement.

"You thought I wanted you to take a gun and shoot him or something?"

With the candle glow making her turquoise eyes glisten like moonlight on the St. Johns River, Joyce placed her head on Alice's shoulder and gently whispered, "You don't have to kill him. Do what I tell you and he'll kill himself."

**********

Two weeks after listening to Joyce's plan, Alice and Carl were in the hospital's luxury box enjoying a Jacksonville Jaguars football game. Watching games in the hospital's luxury box was a perk that Carl, the CEO of Continental Shipping, loved taking advantage of. While conversing with the Director of Pediatrics, Dr. Sinclair, she noticed Carl eyeing her from across the room. After she finished talking to Dr. Sinclair, she walked over to the mini-bar to get something to drink.

Carl came over and started talking to her. After a few minutes of small talk he said, "Doc ... there's something wrong with me."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. I keep having these terrible headaches and sometimes my vision fades in and out."

Alice reacted like she was concerned, professionally, even though she knew his ailments were due to a harmless but annoying chemical Joyce was putting into his food.

"Feel alright now?"

Carl nodded yes.

Consulting her PDA Alice said, "Come by the office tomorrow morning at nine and I'll give you a work up." A grateful Carl nodded yes, and with that they both returned to enjoying the game.

**********

The next day Alice put Carl through the standard doctor patient motions, medical quiz game, routine physical check with Alice finally suggesting blood tests and an MRI.

After taking the blood samples she asked, "MRI around nine-thirty good for you?"

"You think it's necessary?" he meekly asked.

"Yes."

He moaned slightly and shook his head. Carl left the office with his head down; looking like a little boy who's been told his dog just died.

Around five o'clock Alice was in her office thinking about Carl and starting to have second thoughts about the plan when her cell phone rang. The caller ID told her it was Joyce calling.

"Oh my god this is great. He came home looking like a ghost."

The glee in Joyce's voice made Alice frown. At that moment she visualized Joyce as a wide-eyed kid, playing with a new toy on Christmas morning.

"When will you tell him?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, after I get the pictures and blood work back."

"I'll be there. I ... I just got to be there. I want to see the look on his face when you tell him."

Alice silently whispered damn to herself before telling Joyce goodbye.

The next afternoon, Alice placed her hand on Carl's shoulder and as gently as possible told him the bad news. She couldn't help noticing his eyes as he squeezed Joyce's hand. Joyce didn't understand or care about the glassy eyed look on Carl's face, but Alice thought it was the look of a stunned and devastated man.

**********

That evening Alice and Joyce met in a private room of the Seville Club, one of the most exclusive restaurants in Jacksonville . As the restaurant slowly rotated sixty stories above the St. Johns River , they dined on quail and caviar, sipping champagne and marveling at a magnificent view of the city's skyline.

"Why aren't you with him tonight?"

"He wanted to be alone," Joyce answered as she ordered another glass of champagne.

Wiping bits of caviar from her chin she asked, "How's he taking it?"

"Just like I told you."

"Think he'll get a second opinion?"

"No. He equates doctors with God. His father was one."

"But the diagnosis coming back the same as last...”

"He didn't question Mark's diagnosis."

The mentioning of Mark's name made Alice wince. She remembered Joyce telling her how he died while making love to her. Shortly after Mark's demise, Carl's "exotic cancer," much to Joyce's chagrin, miraculously disappeared.

"What do you think he'll do next?"

"Either overdose on the pills you prescribed, or something more direct. He can't stand pain. When you stuck him to draw blood he told me he thought he was going to pass out."

"What makes you think he'll do something besides the pills?"

"He's a coward. Two years ago he watched his mother suffer constant pain for months before dying. Swore to me, he'd kill himself before he'd suffer like that."

"Anything else besides the pills?"

"The gun in our nightstand, but I hope he doesn't use it. Can you imagine the mess the maid would have to clean up?"

Alice silently finished her quail as Joyce snickered at her own clean up comment.

**********

At three- seventeen that morning she answered her phone, and listened as a crisp Brooklyn accent said; "... Detective Simmons of the Jacksonville Police Department. Is Carl Luckman a patient of yours?"

"Yes."

"I know it's early but I need you to come down to the station right away."

"Why? What's happened?"

"I'll explain when you get here."

After exiting a cab and entering the station, she strode to the front desk and asked the desk sergeant for Detective Simmons. He pointed to a short stocky man standing next to a vending machine. His face reminded her of a pair of Shar Pei dogs she once owned.

Walking over to the dour looking man she said, "Detective Simmons? I'm Dr. Pennington. What's going on? What do you need me for?"

"Carl Luckman asked for you. Said he'd talk to us when you got here. Come with me."

Alice 's stomach churned. Following Detective Simmons she entered a room to see Carl sitting at a metal table, handcuffed, wearing pajamas, with disheveled hair and that glassy eyed look he had in her office.

After they both sat down Detective Simmons said, "Okay Carl, here's Dr. Pennington, now tell us why you killed your wife."

Alice 's eyes widened as she imagined Joyce's body in a room with its walls and ceiling splattered with blood. She sat there numbly staring at Carl, who was calmly resting his head against the back of his chair, pretending to blow fantasy smoke rings from an imaginary cigar.

"She hated me. Lied to me, cheated on me, treated me like dirt. Until today I didn't have the nerve to do anything about it."

"Why?" the detective asked.

"Because it doesn't matter anymore. Nobody ... nothing can hurt me. Doc knows why."

Detective Simmons turned to Alice and calmly said, "All right doc, tell us why?"