Malcolm's blanked mind didn't notice the soft strains of piano music and the romantic ambiance of the candle-like lighting that filled the restaurant. He and his shapely wife Jane sat across a white tablecloth in this exclusive eatery. Malcolm did not notice how this atmosphere contrasted with the harsh fluorescent lights and the sterile appearance of the men's washroom; he had left minutes ago. Nor did he see Jane quickly close the clutch purse that matched her shimmering evening dress when he returned to the table.
While in that washroom, drenched in bleached incandescence, as he stood in front of a toilet, Malcolm saw a message in red marker on the wall. "Call 494-1394." After zipping up his dark blue trousers, he took out his phone and punched in the numbers with curiosity. He could not tell his wife what happened next because he could not remember.
A woman's voice answered his call to 494-1394. In a soft, rhythmic tone, it told Malcolm he was getting sleepy and that he should close his eyes and focus on the sound of the voice. When in a hypnotic stupor, Malcolm heard:
"You are to kill your spouse." Do you understand?"
In a flat tone, Malcolm had answered in the affirmative. The young man ended the call, washed his hands, combed his jet-black hair, checked his indigo suit coat for dandruff, and straightened his bright red silk tie before returning to the dining area. He remembered none of this. But he knew that when his steak arrived, it would come with a sharp knife which he would plunge into Jane's heart.
Malcolm filled his glass with wine from the dark bottle on the table. He offered to do the same for Jane, but she put her hand over the bowl-shaped stemmed receptacle and shook her blonde head with a smile.
The young husband drained his glass of the burgundy liquid and refilled it again. As he drank the second glass, he started to feel ill. Sweat soaked his white shirt. His wine glass slipped out of his hand and spilled its contents on the white tablecloth, droplets landing on the silver cutlery. Malcolm fell face first onto the purple stain.
This sudden death created pandemonium in the restaurant. The maître d' and the servers tried to calm their patrons, and the office manager called for first responders. In the chaos, no one noticed Jane cleverly use her fur coat to conceal the wine bottle with its poisonous residuum and slip out of the restaurant unnoticed.
The following day she had trouble remembering what had happened the night before. Jane swiped through the calls she had recently made and received to revive her memory. She saw a number she did not recognize from a call made just before she and Malcolm left for the restaurant. 494-1394.
