Page 5 of Guilty Mothers
‘Anything else I need to know?’ she called into the room.
‘How to know when to let something go,’ Keats said, narrowing his gaze in her direction.
‘Unlikely, but thanks for the tip.’
Kim took one last look at the carnage that had transformed a perfectly normal kitchen into a scene from a horror movie before heading back to the front door.
There was nothing more she could do here. Her work was back at the station, questioning Katie Hawne to find out why she had taken her mother’s life in such a cruel and brutal way.
With the efficiency of a well-oiled machine, she and Bryant silently removed all the protective wear beside the bin that had been provided. As she placed the last paper slipper into the bin, she heard Bryant’s sharp intake of breath.
She turned and followed his gaze to the handcuffed woman coming down the stairs.
Katie had changed her clothes for sure. Gone were the bloodstained garments and in their place was a full-length sequinned magenta ballgown.
FOUR
‘And she still said nothing?’ Stacey asked in disbelief as Kim recounted the story.
‘Not a word. She just got into the car and is now being processed downstairs,’ Kim said, taking a sip of coffee.
She didn’t mention the line of police officers she’d arranged into a shield to cover the short distance from the tent to the police car. The last thing they needed was that photo turning up in the national press, although she was pretty sure the story was heading that way. Cases of brutal matricide always captured the public’s attention.
‘Any idea why she snapped?’ Penn asked.
‘Nothing obvious. Home looks perfectly normal.’
‘No previous calls for domestic issues or disturbances,’ Stacey confirmed.
‘Fancy being stabbed with your own carving knife,’ Penn added. ‘A kitchen utensil used every Sunday for?—’
‘Penn, you really do focus on the strangest things,’ Bryant said, shaking his head.
Kim checked her watch. It had been twenty minutes since she’d called for the duty brief.
Despite the glazed remoteness, it was clear that Katie Hawne had killed her own mother, and Kim had to consider that the strange behaviour was part of a premeditated plan to adopt a diminished responsibility defence. She was absolutely playing this one by the book and there would be no interview without legal representation.
‘Okay, guys, while we wait?—’
Kim was interrupted by Bryant’s internal phone.
He answered it, nodded and passed it to her.
‘Stone.’
‘Yeah, you might want to come downstairs,’ the custody sergeant advised her.
‘Brief here already?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Err…no. And I think you’re gonna want more than the brief when you get down here.’
Kim handed the phone back to Bryant and headed to the stairs. What the hell was she being called down to? Was the prisoner holding one of the officers hostage with a hair grip she’d secreted?
She opened the door that led to the custody suite forcefully, almost hitting a constable. A further eight officers lined the corridor that led to the cells. At the far end stood Katie Hawne, still handcuffed, but something had changed. Her eyes were alive, bright, animated.
‘Ah, perfect. A lady judge. Always smile at the ladies but give a little wink to the men,’ Katie said in a voice that was steady and confident.
She began to walk the corridor with the poise of a supermodel, turning her head to the left then to the right, offering a dazzling smile to every officer she passed.