Four days after I murdered my wife, a group of policemen came quite unexpectedly into the house and proceeded to make a very careful search.
I felt no discomfort whatsoever as I was confident in the effectiveness of my method of concealing the body.
The police detectives asked me to come with them in their search.
They left no nook or corner unexplored.
Finally, for the third or fourth time, they descended into the cellar.
Not a muscle in my body trembled.
My heart beat as calmly as that of one who innocently sleeps through a peaceful night.
I calmly walked from one end of the cellar to the other.
I folded my arms across my chest and casually strolled about.
The police were finally completely satisfied that no foul play had been undertaken on my part.
The glee in my heart strained to be released.
An overwhelming desire rose from within me to say just one word to confirm my triumph and to make the police doubly sure of my innocence.