The case seemed simple enough.
The man was found next to his murdered wife, her blood all over him.
His fingerprints on the knife plunged deep into her chest.

A normal family, a happy family.
Husband was an accountant, wife was a dressmaker. No kids.

It seemed the husband left his office as usual at 5:30, grabbed a paper from the local stand.
He then took a bus and reached home. The elderly neighbour saw him coming at 6:30 and then his wife at 7.
Both of them were fond of him and always spent a few minutes in pleasantries while passing him.
Same thing happened that day also.

At 7:30, a scream filled the otherwise quiet air of the neighbourhood and then silence.
One of those screams, which chill your blood to the core and your heart actually skips a few beats.

The neighbours rushed to the house and were horrified at the scene.
Multiple stab injuries, wife dead, husband standing next to her dead body, smiling.

Everyone got a shock when the defence lawyer entered an insanity plea.
It did not make any sense. It was normal happy family.
No one had ever seen the husband display any abnormal behaviour.
Neither his office colleagues, nor his friends or his neighbours.

No abnormality, no signs of psychosis.

The case proceedings were marred by the death of the prosecutor, a car accident.
Nothing unusual about that. Drunken driving, hit a tree at night.

And our star, the husband, in court, always smiling.
No signs of regret, no signs of nervousness.
A hundred serious faces in courtroom and one man smiling.
I know it sounds funny, but it was horrifying.

My husband does not want me to take interest in his criminal cases.
Says I am too innocent to learn about the daily horrors.
But this case interested me, intrigued me.
I begged him for details, nagged him but nothing came out.

So I sneaked into the courtroom, sat at the back.
Farthest from my husband, the defence attorney.
Hating the bastard who killed his wife in cold blood.
And sitting there all smiling.

The man's defence statement was no defence statement at all.
He doesn't remember what happened that day.
He doesn't remember that he had a meeting with his boss.
A lunch date with a client, a talk with his neighbour.

He accepts this as unusual and says that he is going mad, seeing visions.
He doesn't know why he killed his wife, he does not even remember killing her.
And so the insanity plea, the asthmatic bastard.
Taking out his pump out every hour or so and smiling on.

The court appointed shrink's analysis seemed inconclusive.
He did not say that the man was fine but left enough doubt on the jury's mind.
And on top of that, my husband made a good closing statement.
Questioning the analysis and still maintaining the defence plea of insanity.

It took the jury almost three hours of deliberation.
The three hours, which I spent nervously in the old cafe next to the court.
The cafe was very quiet that day.
Homicides and murders were unusual in our small town.

And then the news came.
The jury had reached the conclusion.
Not guilty, the husband needs to go to the state's mental disorder facilities.
I could not believe it. This man was guilty like hell.

So it's a drinking night for my husband.
Another victory under his belt.
I planned to grill him when he comes back.
This time, he has to answer me, Why?

My lawyer husband comes home.
Totally sober. That's surprising.
Still I decide to confront him after dinner.
I need to know the details.

He smiles and says he knew I was in court all the time.
He says he did not want to stop me this time, that it was good I saw it myself.
The man's wife was having an affair and he got to know a few days back.
He had decided to murder her in cold blood.

But why, why did you help him get away?
Money, honey. He paid good money.
That fills our house.
That pays for your clothes and your food.

And the insanity plea? The cruel smile, the perpetual smile?
My husband smiles back, says,
Our Father in heaven,
Give us our daily nitrous oxide.