He was on the fourth floor of an Embassy Suites hotel at 2 in the afternoon.  He found the door of her room was ajar.  He pushed it open and tip-toed in.  He pulled it closed behind him as he made the way past the kitchen, and looked to the two small bedrooms to his left.  He was relieved to see them empty, this would make his task so much easier.
He didn't want to carry out the task, he tried so hard to get out of it, but to no avail.  He had to do it, and he didn't question why.  He walked up to where she was sleeping on the couch.  She started to stir, but when he put the chloroform rag over her face, she was out for good.
He pulled out the knife and placed it on her neck.  He watched the crimson fluid pour out as he drug the knife across her neck.  He kissed her good night, got up and left the room as inconspicuously as he came.  When he opened the elevator, he dropped the knife down the shaft.  as the doors closed, he removed the gloves, turned them inside out, and put them in his pockets.
He got in his car, drove a couple of miles, then put the gloves in a box of gunpowder.  He made a wick, and lit the end.  He got back in his car and sped out of the area.
The ground shook as the only useable piece of evidence against him exploded in a box in a grassy field.