The Perfect Alibi

The Perfect AlibiTo be opened only after my death--I'm now dead.Last night -- between the hours of 10 and midnight -- your hired executioners shaved my head and strapped me into the electric chair. Man-made lightning boiled my blood and scorched my flesh.This morning, spreading marmalade on your toast, you read all about it. The newspapers undoubtedly referred to me as "the mistress murderer." Headline writers, well known for their propensity toward alliteration. quite possibly led off...