Close to the moment of abandonment, she placed her hand on his chest.
She reached for the fountain pen on his bedside table, opened it, wrote on his shoulder.
She dropped the pen as he kissed her.
He paused again and asked, "What did you write?"
"Victor, dear," she said. "Don't you know?"
"Of course not," he said.
"I wrote 'Clarice'. You know Clarice, Victor. She's the woman you've been cheating on me with."
"I, uh. Ouch! My shoulder hurts. I feel numb, sleepy, weak all over."
"Don't worry. The feeling won't last long. It's a quick-acting poison."
"You've heard of poison pen letters, haven't you, Victor?"
This was swiftly followed by Rejoice Denhere's same-day sequel...
She got up quickly and got dressed. When they found the body she would be out of the country. Revenge was sweet she thought with satisfaction as she drove to the airport.
“Follow that car,” the passenger in the car black car told the driver.
Clarice had watched everything via her phone which was connected to a small camera in Victor’s bedroom. She had installed it to record their secret escapades in the hope of blackmailing him for a promotion at work. Now that he was dead she had no choice but to put plan B into action.