[Short Story] An Unexpected Murder

I was murdered three days ago.
The room was dark when I returned home, and my wife had gone on a trip.
With a sudden blow to the back of my head, I departed this world quite easily.

Departed... no, my soul is still here like this.
There is no way I can pass on.

I absolutely cannot pass on until I identify the culprit.

Still, I don't understand.
Why did I have to be attacked?

Our marriage was good.
I had no problems with my in-laws or siblings-in-law.
Things were going well at work, too.
Was it a burglar targeting an empty house?
If so, they would have asked where the money was before killing me.

Since nothing was stolen, that theory doesn't hold up.
If that's the case...

I tried thinking as hard as I could.
But no matter how much I thought, I couldn't figure it out.
Was there someone who held a grudge against me?
Had I done something so terrible without realizing it that it would make someone hold a grudge?
No matter how much I think, I don't know.

I crossed my arms and kept staring at my own corpse.
Just then, I heard the sound of the front door opening. It was my wife who entered.
My wife, who had been on a trip, was humming happily.
She must have had a wonderful time on her trip.

But when she sees her beloved husband lying cold,
she will surely become hysterical and cry her eyes out.
Poor wife. I wanted to say goodbye before I died.

I was thinking about that while watching my wife, who I expected would be crying.
Then, as expected, she knelt down beside my corpse.

Next, she will shed tears.

My wife touched my body to try and wake me up.
Without even screaming at my stiffened body, she took out her smartphone.

Oh, I see. Is she calling the police?
Or is she calling an ambulance?
Even so, I have long since passed away.
It's too late to call an ambulance now.

However, my wife, not appearing upset and not crying,
said into the phone:

"You did a good job."

—Huh? Did a good job?

"Yes, I've transferred the payment."

After finishing the call, my wife looked down at me and said with a smile,

"I was already sick and tired of being with you anyway.
You were so incredibly nitpicky and nagging.
But don't worry. Now I can finally be free.
I'll spend every last cent of your savings."

What did you say...?
I was shocked by my wife's words.

We had been saving money for our future.
In these times, we couldn't rely on a pension, so we had been living frugally.
I thought my wife accepted that as a matter of course.
Could it be... that wasn't the case?

"Oh, that's right. Don't worry, I have a solid alibi.
The trip, you know."

My wife said that while laughing, and then began to apply makeup
to play the part of a grieving widow.

My wife had insisted that she really wanted to go on a trip with her friends, which was rare for her.
Thinking that such things were necessary once in a while, I spent a lot of money to send her off.
So that was her alibi setup.
Anger toward my wife welled up inside me, and my resentment began to boil like molten lead.

I grabbed my wife with hands filled with hatred.
Then, my hands sank deep into her body as if being sucked in.

I see, so that's how it is—.

Looking at the hand I had pulled out of my wife's body, I grinned and turned my face toward the window.

This is the eighth floor.
If I jump, there will be no hope for me.

I entered my wife's body and opened the window.
The darkness was opening its wide mouth.
I stepped out onto the balcony, placed my hands on the railing, and dove toward the ground.

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