Tonight he decided to dine with Juliette. A final meal.
The menu? Roasted Lamb with all the trimmings. The details of the meal were important. Each ingredient made her look at him more and more lovingly.
“Tonight we will eat together, my love. Would you like that?” he asked Juliette.
“Mmhmm!” came the muffled affirmative from his captive.
For his plate, he prepared the lamb with a mix of garlic, savory and dash of paprika. For Juliette’s plate, he added a little rat-poison and a dash of Frank’s hot sauce to mask the ammonia.
For every mouthful he took, he fed her a mouthful from the plate he’d prepared, lovingly, for her.
She ate hungrily, with little care for what spilled from her lips.
“Thank you,” she said in a voice so cracked, he could barely hear her.
He offered her another bite, “Do you love me now, Juliette?”
“Yes,” she replied.
She ate.
Hours later, he lamented her death with a glass of Chateau Neuf du Pape.
He would, later, lay her to rest in central park, for the detective to find.