“So he never hit you,” repeated the policewoman to the other woman slumped in the interrogation room.
“No ma’m. Not with his fists. Those snakes he kept caged. Said he’d throw them at me if I misbehaved.”
“And the gun?” asked the officer.
“In the closet, unloaded. Said if I ran away, he’d track me down. Kill me. After he went to work, I broke open the drawer with the bullets. I never fired a gun before.”
“You’re both lucky. He’s barely nicked,” said the policewoman. “He never left a mark on you?”
“Not,” she sobbed, “so anyone could see.”
“No ma’m. Not with his fists. Those snakes he kept caged. Said he’d throw them at me if I misbehaved.”
“And the gun?” asked the officer.
“In the closet, unloaded. Said if I ran away, he’d track me down. Kill me. After he went to work, I broke open the drawer with the bullets. I never fired a gun before.”
“You’re both lucky. He’s barely nicked,” said the policewoman. “He never left a mark on you?”
“Not,” she sobbed, “so anyone could see.”
