Chapter 15
Fifteen
Kim had familiarised herself with the incident before she stepped into interview room one.
Martha was dressed in a white paper suit having surrendered her clothes for forensic examination.
‘Ah, Chief Sow,’ she said with a twisted smile as Kim took a seat.
‘I hear you want to chat,’ Kim said, opening her folder.
‘Only to you. Got no time for the pigs.’
‘One of those pigs told me you already signed a waiver, but I’m taking no chances. Here,’ she said, sliding a piece of paper across the desk.
‘Tell me what it says,’ Martha said without looking at it.
‘You know what it says. You’ve papered your downstairs loo with these things.’
‘Can’t read it without my glasses,’ she said, sticking her chin out.
‘Jesus, Martha. It says you’re happy to talk to me without a lawyer.’
Martha nodded.
‘Not good enough. Sign the sheet,’ Kim said, rolling the pen towards her. Kim wasn’t taking any chances. For a woman who dressed like a tramp and smelled like a council dump, she sure could afford decent legal counsel when she wanted to.
With a flourish, Martha signed her name a good inch away from the signature line. ‘Happy now?’
‘Okay, Martha, I’ve got other shit to do. Tell me what went on.’
‘He’s an arsehole.’
Kim sighed; she didn’t need the history lesson. ‘I know what you think of the Hubbards, but it ain’t new. You’ve never shot them before, so why now?’
‘He’s a fucking paedophile.’
‘No, he isn’t,’ Kim said. That was one of many accusations she’d made against him. ‘There’s never been any complaint against him.’
‘He was a teacher.’
‘So what? That doesn’t make him one. You’ve gotta stop making accusations.’
‘It’s incest, the two of them. They’re brother and sister.’
Kim groaned. ‘No, they’re not, and you know it.’
Another one of Martha’s outlandish claims that had been disproven years ago.
‘They do them rituals, you know. Every full moon, the two of them head down to the old potato field and sacrifice puppies, kittens and—’
‘Enough,’ Kim said, resting her elbows on the table. ‘This has gone on for decades. Do you even remember why you hate them so much?’
‘Before my time. Goes back before my great-grandparents. They wronged us bad.’
‘How?’ Kim asked, genuinely perplexed at how a grudge could stay alive for so long.
‘I dunno,’ Martha said, looking down at her dirty nails.
Kim frowned. ‘You’re lying. You do know what started it.’
‘How would I? I wasn’t even born, yer stupid sow.’
‘Martha, once more and I’ll bloody feed you back to the pigs out there.’
‘All right. I don’t know, I swear, but we ain’t giving in on my watch. I’ll go to my grave with hatred for that family in my heart.’
Surely there was going to be a generation that decided peace was better than war?
‘So, you shot him?’ Kim asked.
‘Sure did,’ she said, sitting back and folding her arms across her chest.
‘You know he’s badly injured?’
‘I. Don’t. Give. A. Shit.’
‘Martha, he’s in intensive care.’
‘I. Don’t. Give. A—’
‘Okay, I’ve got the message. But why now? You’ve lived miserably next to each other for decades. There’s been hostility but never anything like this. Why did you shoot him now? And don’t give me any of your false accusations – just tell me the truth.’
‘He came past the oak tree,’ she said as though that explained everything.
‘He what?’ Kim asked. She’d heard outlandish reasons before, but they’d never involved a damn tree.
‘The boundary line. Our property looks down it, and theirs faces towards it. There’s an oak tree about two hundred feet from our house. There’s an unspoken agreement about it.’
Kim was surprised any kind of agreement between the families, unspoken or otherwise, had stood the test of time. ‘Go on,’ Kim urged her.
‘They know not to come past it. He came past it, so I shot him.’
‘It’s really that simple?’ Kim asked in amazement. ‘He was on his own land, but he came too close to yours, so you shot him?’
Martha nodded.
‘You do realise that right now we’re probably talking about a charge of attempted murder?’
‘Tell someone who gives a shit,’ she said, shrugging.
Kim wasn’t sure there was anything else to say. Woody had asked her to do a job and it was done. But two things puzzled her.
‘Why no lawyer, Martha?’
‘What’s the point? I ain’t paying good money for somebody to try and get me off something I’m happy I did. I did the crime and I’ll do the time.’
‘Okay, last thing. Why me? Why wouldn’t you just say this to the others?’
‘Cos yer fussed my dog.’
‘What?’
‘Eleven years ago, you came after I broke the new cameras they put up. Caesar sidled up against your leg. Filthy, muddy mutt of a dog he was, but you reached down and rubbed his head. It’s enough.’
Kim vaguely recalled a wolfhound-type dog crossed with something.
She pushed back her chair. ‘Is there anything else you want to say?’
Martha shook her head but mumbled something.
‘What?’
Martha stayed silent, but Kim could swear she’d heard the woman say the Hubbards had taken her daughter.