Fanchon's Book(65)

No, not the reason, the excuse. The reason is more personal and you may not understand it. Or believe it.

But my husband will-if this reaches him-and that is why I must say it while I still have the chance. I wish it were possible to speak to him frankly and confess everything, but I am her slave more than ever-and only in the heat of this spasm of rebellion can I tell my husband that she really plans to murder him. Slowly. Through me. But not "just for the thrill of it"-oh no-and not for the money either, what little there is.

I know now that her motive is political. There is a plot afoot to take over the government; it will be swift and sure when it finally happens, but the date of the coup is months away yet and there is still time to forestall it. The whole thing hinges upon the death of my husband. But his passing must appear normal-old age, long illness, natural causes-and I suspect that she has been sent here to seduce me and enslave me and make me perform the deed. And I shall do it, of course, I do not see how I can stop myself. Because I love her the way I do.

Only my husband himself can prevent it. He will read the book, I am certain-he reads all the new American erotica-and he should be able to identify me from some of the stylistic expressions I have used, expressions familiar to both of us, and there are plenty of them scattered throughout the manuscript. (Have I unconsciously been trying to attract his attention from the very beginning?) But only he will recognize me. No one else. The characters in the story are too disguised to offer any clues. Nobody but my agent is aware that I am the writer-and in order not to involve him I shall mail this, the epilogue, directly to the publisher's offices in New York. But when my husband reads the book, he will know and understand and figure out what toForgive me. I hear her calling. Forgive this ungainly bit of writing; I must send it off immediately and cannot take the time to polish the wording. She is calling me and I must go to her. Because I am her slave. Because I love her. I am ready to commit murder for her. But I hope and pray that I never have to.