I was involved with a woman (probably in her early 20s) and her father in a murder conspiracy. The details were rather vague to me; but as part of the plot, it was going to be necessary for me to marry the woman. She was slender and attractive, but there was no romance between us: we were simply going to marry as part of our plot and then separate later. The father (probably in his early 40s) was a strong robust fellow, basically the mastermind of the conspiracy.

An essential part of our plan involved what was known as the "Rule." According to the "Rule," on a certain Sunday the authority of the police to make any searches was going to be temporarily suspended for that one day. It was our plan that the murder would be committed while that suspension took place and the body would be disposed of by dumping it on the bank of a nearby river.

I was concerned about the disposal of the body, but I learned that the river was infested with alligators and that bodies were frequently disposed of there by feeding them to the alligators.

The fateful day finally arrived and the "Rule" was invoked. The father took care of the details of the act itself, then loaded the body in his car and took it to the river. He dumped it on the bank of the river, saw the large alligators nearby and then drove away before the alligators had actually reached the body.

He returned to the house where the daughter and I were waiting. I was satisfied to learn that no actual wedding ceremony was going to be necessary. At a certain hour the marriage would simply become official and we would be husband and wife. The father looked rather impressive dressed in his black suit. The daughter was wearing an elegant blue dress. Some drinks were poured in wine glasses. I looked at one of the glasses which contained a light blue drink and it seemed almost like a painting imbued with some special significance. I then in turn saw the face of the woman as if it were on a movie screen and she were being focused in on as one of the characters in a movie. The same thing occurred with the father.

I sat down and looked out a window. I actually was feeling quite depressed. It somehow didn't seem natural for us to be able to defy the law and commit our act with impunity. If we were able to succeed, it seemed to imply not only that a social law didn't exist which controlled such behavior, but also that there was no natural law which controlled us either. That was what particularly bothered me, because without some kind of natural law binding us, I felt lost -- a particularly unpleasant feeling.

Suddenly, out of the blue, apparently from a radio, a voice said, "Ladies and gentlemen, the 'Rule' has been suspended." I was numbed by the news. The father was thrown into turmoil. He immediately got on the phone and tried to reach someone responsible for the suspension of the "Rule." The father himself had somehow been involved with the legislation which had promulgated the "Rule" and now was desperate to find out why it had been suspended.

The implications of the suspension of the "Rule" immediately became obvious to me. The police could now go to the river and search. The alligators probably hadn't had time to eat the dead body. The tire marks from the father's car made in the river mud could probably be traced. Once the body was found I would undoubtedly be implicated in the murder.

It was about 7 o'clock. I had the definite impression that whoever had suspended the "Rule" had done so purposely in order to catch us at our own game. It was now too late for us to do anything.

At least, however, I suddenly felt a very strong rebirth of my faith in social and natural laws. Apparently it wasn't possible to do what we had done with impunity and that fact alone made me feel somewhat better.

I still didn't want to be caught and go to jail. The father and I walked out to his car. He got into the driver's seat and we pulled into the street. Once in the street he stopped the car and got out to go take care of something. He was coming right back and he left the keys in the car.

I began thinking of what I was going to do if I were arrested. My hair was long and I would have to get a haircut. I hoped no pictures would be taken of me at the time of the arrest which would be shown at trial. How should I act if I were arrested? Should I be indignant at the idea that I had had anything to do with the crime or should I just go docily in silent admission of my guilt? I decided it might be time to simply admit my guilt and take the consequences. Perhaps I could wipe the slate clean and start my life all over again after a few years in prison. But I definitely was still not going to say anything when I was arrested.

I still thought there might be a chance of escape. I looked at the keys in the ignition, scooted into the driver's seat and started off. I put the car in reverse to turn around and saw another car behind me also backing up. I thought it might be the police and that it might already be too late to escape, but after I turned around, the car didn't follow me. I continued driving and it appeared that I might indeed make a getaway.

Finally I pulled over, got out of the car, and sat down in front of what looked like a little country store. Some writing in large letters was on the front of the store. It seemed like a long time had passed, perhaps years. I had never been caught, but I had long ago seen the error of my ways and changed. Some children gathered around me and I began talking with them, thinking I might be able to teach them something.