The Unseen

And the second course of action? Through thick or thin, come what may, for better or for worse, to remove Charlotte from the picture in one way or another. Whatever it took. But how?

            Could he find a gigolo who would run off with her to Argentina? But where does one find such a person and how much would it cost? Should he strew the staircase with banana skins so she might fall and break her neck? Not a good idea; in her case she would only sprain her ankle with just enough pain to bring the vitriol to boiling point. What about persuading some criminal to kidnap her and offer her for sale in the white slave market – or hire a hit man to bump her off? Recruit Arthur Sheldon as the initiator for one of these schemes?

            The notions became more and more bizarre and then, quite unexpectedly, the picture was crystal clear. It was as if the windscreen wipers had suddenly sprung into action to give a brighter view ahead through the car's front window, previously thick with mud.

            He needed to arrange the death of Charlotte with nobody but himself involved and in circumstances where no one would suspect him of any association whatsoever.

            Murder? What drivel. Acts of material violence? A gigolo? Hit men? Assassination?  Arranged by him – or Arthur?

            Unthinkable. This was Norris Caister – and in any case did Charlotte’s behaviour justify, for one moment, drastic action of this nature. His picture of a gradual decline blamed on her had some remnants of reality about it  but suggestions of a resort to criminal activity was as far removed as an alternative as was a Gainsborough portrait to an oil by Jackson Pollack. These possibilities cannot be the right solution under any circumstances. She was his wife. Daughter of a man he had admired and loved beyond any other in his life.  A human being.  A beautiful human being. The ten commandments.

            He came to a decision. Vacillate no longer. He would face her with these thoughts. Telling her of the crazy alternatives pulsating through his brain would bring her to her senses. She would see that the motive for marrying him was an unworthy one, not at all of his devising, and that she had, to date, been totally unfair in the way she treated him. Surely she would see that. He was the innocent party in this affair and it was therefore wicked and perverse that he be called upon to take any part of the blame. If things did not change she would send him mad. An insane husband, because of her behaviour. He was reaching the end of his tether. They could not go on like this. She was destroying him.

            This action must be taken; reveal the way he was thinking – and yet, as he rehearsed his arguments and went over the words that would come from his side of the fence at such a confrontation, he realised that obtaining a satisfactory result from such a display of candour was just as fanciful as to envisage gigolos or the managers of a white slave business.

            But, if he considered it unlikely that such an approach would help – even result in a minor diminution in her daily offensive – was it wise to reveal his hand? If he was contemplating a kidnapping or a major purchase of bananas, prior warning of these possibilities would put her on her guard. She would install a stronger light bulb over the staircase and only leave the premises when there were plenty of other citizens in the streets to foil the men trying to put a sack over her head and bundle her in to the Trabant motorcar waiting at the pavement edge.

            Did this mean that to alleviate the situation he needed to be entirely devious? Was it going to be necessary to enter into plots of this nature, and if so, was he capable? The answer; not to be contemplated: too timid for words: totally without self-confidence. He had never harmed any person in his life, not by thought, word or deed and rarely disagreed with anyone, except for Charlotte. To take action of a physical nature was absurd.

            Hardly a life filled with purpose Crammed with incident. He had survived National Service but that was thanks to his natural ability to fade into the background; to become invisible to the arm of authority. Not much to brag about there.

            As he reviewed this schedule of his strengths and weaknesses, mainly the latter, he considered the one virtue not yet visited; his affinity with the world of literature. He had read a lot of books. In these, murders are often a topic but the heroes of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett are hard and tough, as were the criminals they pursued, and he was not. Patricia Highsmith was more his scene but to compare himself with Tom Ripley was absurd.

            If he was to be involved in an act of murder, the script would need to be as ordinary as he was – meaning that it was more obvious what could not be included than what might. Blunt instruments were the first props to be rejected. Not his style at all and even if they were, a direct confrontation with Charlotte while executing the deed was out of the question. He could no more kill her while she fixed him with her steely cold eyes than he could scale Mount Everest.

            Or, was this altogether so? There c