A Temptation

A Temptation

    Richard Penman stood over the body of his wife.  He looked at the axe in his hand and, for no apparent reason, began to laugh. 

    He was buggered. 

    He had just killed his wife and all evidence pointed against him.

    He stopped laughing. 

    He looked down at his hands and sat on the nearby staircase, holding the axe.

    Dear God, what had he done?

    It had all started with the burst pipe in the cellar.  Richard had gone down into the cellar to fetch the lawnmower, and had found the entire cellar flooded with water.  Richard called the plumber and told him that if he came immediately, there would be something in it for him.  The plumber arrived five minutes later and set to work on the broken pipe.  Richard and his wife, Jane, owned a large semi-detached house that dated from the late nineteenth century.  It had a huge cellar that stretched out underneath the house, and right at the back of it, furthest away from the door, was where the broken pipe was located.  The plumber had to crawl on his hands and knees to get to the very back and when he came out he was bloody from a cut on his forehead and filthy from the dust and dirt.

    ‘God, crawling through there’s like working in the bloody mines!’ he spluttered when he emerged from the cellar.  ‘Oh, by the way, I found some stuff in a box hidden up the back.  I left them near the door if you want to take a look.’  He pulled a flannel from his pocket and wiped his face and hands with it.

    ‘Of course, I’ll take a look.’ Richard said.  He crouched down and walked through the small cellar door.  The ceiling was very low, and he bent down to have a look at the box of items.  They must have been here for nearly seventy years, he thought.  The cellar was very dry and perfect for storing and preserving things.  Firstly, there were some small phials.  They each said ‘Carbro Concentrated Solution’ and they had large numbers on the labels.  He placed them out of the way.  They could go to the local museum.  Then there was a small booklet entitled ‘Selectivity and the Scottish Regional Station’.  It told you how to tune in your old valve radio.

    That could go to the museum as well.

    But it was the last item in the box that made Richard shudder.  His heart turned to ice as he picked it up and held it in his hands.

    It was a large, steel bladed felling axe.  It had rusted slightly at the edge, but was almost perfectly intact.

    He gasped and put the axe down onto the stone cellar floor.  What the hell was a huge steel axe doing in his cellar? 

    ‘You found a what in your cellar?’

    ‘I told you.  An axe.’ Richard said.  He was sitting in the pub with his friend, Martin.

    ‘That’s weird.’ Martin frowned.  ‘And you say the plumber found it?’

    ‘Yes!  I’ve told you everything!’ Richard said, irritated.

    ‘Well, it’s just a chopper.  I mean, people use choppers all the time if they need to chop a bit of wood.’ Martin assured.  ‘Especially in the countryside.’

    ‘I know,’ Richard sighed.  ‘But this is a felling axe.  A bloody massive thing!’

    Martin paused.  ‘Well, maybe you’re right.  I think, the best thing to do, is to put it back in the cellar and forget you ever found it.’

    Richard took a sip of his beer and thought for a second.  Then he nodded. 

    Martin was right.