She truly thought that from the moment she'd rolled his body into the river that'd be that. A fait accompli. Done deal, baby. So long and sayonara and all that.

Except for the fact of putrefaction. From the Latin putrefactionem, meaning “to make rotten”.

All one really needs to know is that, despite one's hopes, a corpse can indeed emerge from the depths and return to haunt the living.

Whereupon, like a raisin rising and descending endlessly in a flute of champagne, the bloated shape lingers on the water's surface, until gravity eventually takes over.

Then down down down, only to perpetually return.