Suddenly there was a rapid movement at the corner of his eye. He froze. “What to do?” he thought to himself. He waited. In the light from the distant moon he could see his cat, Daisy, coming slowly towards him. He gave a sigh of relief, but his heart was still racing. He realised how silly it was for him to go downstairs without an alibi in case he would be discovered - he now realized he could have taken his glass with him, claiming he had gone up only to get some water, but he couldn’t turn back now, could he? The clock went tick tock on the wall. Otherwise there was total silence. Daisy spoke to him: “Will you get on with it? We haven’t all night, you know.” Mr Albert looked at the cat and then replied: “I am aware of that, Daisy, but I couldn’t very well go about like a maniac and wake up the entire neighbourhood, could I?” At this annoyed reply Daisy rolled her eyes and took the lead down the hall.
For some time now, the wife of Mr Albert had become an increasing burden for both Mr Albert and the cat. With all her smart remarks on every little thing he did, he had had enough, and while claiming it was all out of concern for Mr Albert, he knew it was only a way for her to tease and annoy him. Therefore he had come up with a brilliant plan to end her nagging, with the help of dear old Daisy, of course. That was why he and the cat were sneaking around the house in the cover of darkness this late at night: They were about to kill Mrs Albert.

“The plan is dead sure,” Mr Albert thought, as he leaned over his wife’s bed, holding an axe from the garden shed in his hand. Him and Daisy had gone over this moment a number of times, thinking carefully about how to do it; which way would be the best way. It was really Daisy who was the brain in this scheme, but Mr Albert, ignorant as he was, was of course certain that all the good ideas had come from his head. For a brief moment, he got very unsure about what they had decided. Was it quick and quietly, or was she supposed to feel it? The latter would almost certainly mean that some noises would occur, and such a thing might cause neighbours or people passing by to call the police to investigate the matter. This was not something Mr Albert wished for, so he came to the conclusion they had most probably decided to get it over with rather quickly.

Daisy hissed quietly at the side of his feet, and Mr Albert quickly returned from his thoughts. Axe in hand, wife in bed - quick and quiet. “Here it goes,” he thought, and just as he raised the axe above his head, Mrs Albert woke up. Her sudden awakening startled Mr Albert, and he nearly dropped the axe, but managed to retain his grip at the last minute. A very sleepy Mrs Albert looked confused and rose to a sitting position. “What on earth are you doing?! You almost gave me a heart attack, you silly old man!” she exclaimed at the sight of her husband standing beside her bed. Then she noticed he was holding something above his head, and squinted at him. “Are you not well?” she said. “You should be sleeping at this time of night, I told you to take those sleeping pills, didn’t I? Oh, did you forget them too? You are getting far too old and absent-minded these days, I really should send you to the doctor first thing in…” this is as far as she got in her nagging, and Mr Albert felt relieved in the very same moment the axe split her head. Daisy sat at the foot of the bed, her eyes widened with excitement at the first strike, and then she lowered her head and looked crudely at the blood-drained woman lying still in her bed. Daisy smiled and jumped down from the bed, walking towards the door. She stopped at the door, turned back to face Mr Albert where he was standing beside the bed like the fool he was and said: “So, come on now. You know what we have to do next. We can’t just leave her lying there for everyone to see, can we?” Mr Albert shook his head as though he was trying to get rid of voices in it, and then he placed the axe neatly at the foot of the bed. He quickly wrapped the bed linen around his wife’s silent body. When he finished he was covered in blood, and cursed the old witch for bleeding all over him. The cat waited patiently by the door. Mr Albert struggled with the weight as he lifted Mrs Albert’s heavy body, cursing under his breath, and carrying her out to the garden like a sack of old, moulding potatoes. Daisy the cat was a few steps ahead of him and made sure the coast was clear for entering the garden.

Mr Albert had already prepared the grave for his wife. It would seem less suspicious, he had thought (or was it Daisy’s idea?), to dig the grave in daytime, without a dead body lying next to him. He had told curious neighbours he had found a treasure map and was now looking for the treasure of an old pirate who dug it down hundreds of years ago. The neighbours nodded and went about their business as usual. They all thought he was crazy, of course.

Mr Albert dragged the sheets with the dead body towards the grave trying not to make a sound. It was heavy and he was tired. Who would have thought killing your wife would be so tiresome? He gave the body one last push and off it went, down to the bottom of the grave. Daisy stood beside him with a devious grin; she was very pleased. Finally the nagging was over and the old witch had gotten what she deserved. Mr Albert filled the grave with dirt again, and before morning had arrived there was no sign of a grave in the garden, only a small patch that had once again been covered with dirt and grass. The neighbours presumed the old man had not found his treasure and simply refilled the hole. As for Mrs Albert, none of the neighbours really cared where she had gone to. They all thought she had simply left Mr Albert and the neighbourhood altogether. Good riddance, they thought, as did Daisy the cat, lying in front of the fireplace with a devious grin.