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The Tape Recorder
John Ragusa
“I’m going shopping today,” Marcia Becker told her husband Henry at the breakfast table.
“What will you buy?” he asked, eating his toast.
“I’ll purchase whatever’s on sale.”
He looked at his watch. “I’d better be heading for the office now.”
She kissed him. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”
After Henry left, Marcia checked the newspaper for sales. She wanted to treat herself to a nice gift.
She saw a sale on dresses at a clothing store in town. She got in her car and headed out there.
On the road, Marcia noticed a shop she hadn’t seen before. Rare Items, the sign read.
What did it sell? Clothes? Appliances? Marcia decided to find out.
She entered the shop and walked along the aisles, seeing all sorts of things from radios to TV sets. The prices weren’t high. She could probably find some bargains in here.
“May I assist you?” a salesman asked.
“I’m just browsing, thank you. This is the first time I’ve been here.”
“Then I should show you around.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
He pointed to a row of shelves. “This is our entertainment center.”
“You have some nice audio equipment,” Marcia said.
“Yes, our stock is very good. Now over here is an extremely rare tape recorder. It records thoughts instead of voices.”
“You’re kidding!”
“No, I’m serious.”
“But that’s supernatural!”
“Technology can do some amazing things nowadays.”
“What purpose does it serve?”
“It was invented so that the U. S. could gather information from the thoughts of terrorists.”
“That’s a nifty idea.”
“The man who created it is a genius.”
“I’d like to see for myself if it works.”
“Okay.” He took the recorder and the adapter from the box. “Let’s go to my office.”
Marcia followed him into a small, cluttered room. He plugged the adapter into a wall socket and put a cassette tape into the recorder. Then he pressed the “record” button.
“Now think a simple thought, but don’t say anything,” he instructed.
I can hardly believe this, Marcia thought.
The salesman played back the tape. Marcia was astonished to hear her thought.
“It really can record thoughts!” she said.
He nodded. “Are you interested in buying it?”
“How much does it cost?”
“The price is $300.”
Marcia paid for it with a check and took it home with her.
* * *
“I’m going out tonight for another meeting with my boss,” Henry said when he got home that afternoon.
Marcia frowned. “Do you mean I’ll have to spend more time alone?”
“I’m sorry, darling. It’s part of my job. My boss was nice enough to let me come home to have dinner with you.”
“You’ve been out every night for the past week.”
Henry splashed on some cologne. “I have to do it. I’ll be home later this evening.”
Marcia thought about all the late nights Henry had been working recently. She was getting suspicious of his meetings. They were just too frequent.
She wondered if Henry was seeing another woman.
She decided to follow him that night to find out.
* * *
That evening, Marcia trailed Henry as he drove to an elegant restaurant. She hadto see if he was meeting someone there.
Inside the restaurant, he took a gorgeous blonde lady to a table, where they ordered dinner. He was having an affair!
Marcia drove home in tears. She felt cheated and betrayed. All these years, she had been a loyal, loving wife, and this was what she got for it. She was fighting mad.
She chose not to tell Henry she was aware of his infidelity; she still wanted to save her marriage. Sooner or later, he’d grow tired of this woman and stop seeing her.
Then Marcia had an idea. Before bedtime, she’d hide the tape recorder in their room. She’d tell Henry that she would be sleeping in the guest bedroom that night because she had a cold and she didn’t want him to catch it. If Henry thought about his girlfriend, it would be caught on tape. She’d listen to it in the morning to see if he was really being unfaithful.
Later, at bedtime, Henry was brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Marcia took this moment to press the “record” button and hide the tape recorder under their bed.
Henry finished in the bathroom and came out. “I’m ready for bed.”
“I seem to have caught a cold,” Marcia said. “I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom so you won’t catch it.”
“Okay. I hope you get well soon.”
“Thanks. Good night.”
Everything was all set.
* * *
The next morning, Marcia woke Henry up. “Rise and shine.”
He yawned. “Good morning.”
Henry had his breakfast and left for the office. Marcia got the tape recorder from under the bed, rewound it a little, and played the tape.
She heard Henry thinking, I must get rid of my wife. It’s the only way I can marry Susan. I’ll put some arsenic in her coffee.
She shut it off. So Henry was planning to murder her. Well, she wouldn’t let him do it.
* * *
Henry came home that afternoon and found Marcia very upset.
“Darling, what’s the matter?” he said.
“I learned about your intentions.”
“What on Earth do you mean?”
Marcia took a gun from her pocket. “Let’s just say I’m going to beat you to the punch.”
With that, she shot Henry through the heart. He gasped and dropped to the floor, a stunned expression on his face. His blood flowed into a huge puddle on the den floor.
Marcia then went to pick up the mail. One letter was from the Public Library, reminding her that a book was overdue.
She walked into her bedroom. The mystery novel was on the end table. Marcia opened the last page to find the date it was due. Her eyes wandered to the opposite page, where she saw this sentence: Barry told himself, I must get rid of my wife. It’s the only way I can marry Susan. I’ll put some arsenic in her coffee.
Filled with horror, Marcia realized that Henry had not meant to kill her. The tape recorder had captured the words of a book as they passed through Henry’s mind.
The doorbell rang. When Marcia answered it, she saw the woman who was with Henry at the restaurant.
“Hello, Mrs. Becker,” the woman said. “I’m Gail Addison, Henry’s new boss. I treated him to dinner last night to reward him for working late this past week. I came here to apologize to you for that. His account is wrapped up now, so he won’t be spending any more late hours at the office.”
Marcia felt dizzy all of a sudden.
“Is something wrong, Mrs. Becker?” Gail asked. “You look like you’re about to faint!”
