Martha Takes the Case
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2014 by harry lime

Several years ago, when her husband had been mugged in an alley in one of the worse parts of the city, Martha had made a promise that the same thing would never happen to her if she could prevent it. That was why she joined the beginning Ju-Jitsu course at the Adult Education center at the Council meeting hall. The instructor was a retired SAS sergeant with a penchant for dishing out pain just to see how much his students could handle. She had almost quit that very first session because the unexpected stress on her tummy and backside caused her to have a distressing case of vomiting that was decidedly not pretty at all. Then when she landed on her wrist and almost sprained it she was brought to the edge of tears in sudden pain and confusion.

Sergeant McHale was waiting for her to shout out,

"I quit!"

Martha could see it written in his expression making her determined not to give in to the rough treatment. She picked her tired body up off the mat and took the defensive position knowing that she would soon be flat on her back in a matter of moments. They had started the night with thirty happy faces and at the end of the session only twelve survivors staggered out to retrieve their belongings and head back home for a much needed soak in the tub. Martha was one of them.

Her husband thought she was being silly to do something so risky at her age but at the time she was only in her mid-forties and it seemed like she was not ready for the geriatric community just yet. Now almost eight years later, she had advanced to a black belt and was able to compete against most men on an equal basis. She had discovered it was not the size or the weight that made the difference but that it was her natural sense of leverage that usually won the day.

Her instructor sergeant McHale had trained her in the dirtier aspects of crippling moves but thus far she had just kept them safely locked away for some future emergency that she hoped would never happen.

The last case that her husband Chief Inspector Goodpenny was in charge of was the nasty business of the kidnapping of a disreputable villain's teenaged daughter in the East End. Her Harry was instrumental in finally capturing the gang of East European scum that had snatched the girl from in front of her school right in broad daylight. The daughter was recovered alive but had suffered the fate of most young females taken as captives by such desperate men.

The father was grateful enough to send a sizable donation to the widows and pension fund that was accepted without comment as the charitable organization was in dire need of capital to continue its good deeds. Martha had met the terrible man at an affair that invited substantial donors regardless of their past misdeeds. His name was Higgins and he was a piggish sort of fellow with close-set eyes that seemed to follow you like little daggers with sharp pointy ends. The daughter to her understanding still lived with the father but was a bit of a disaster with inability to make an audible response to a simple question. She knew her husband was quite upset that he was unable to save her quickly enough to prevent her destruction at the hands of the merciless foreign fiends with no sense of respect for tradition and common decency.

In all honesty, she had to admit the strange little man did scare her without really trying and that she was ashamed of her trembling when she placed her hand in his for the customary greeting. She was certain that Higgins knew her internal mood of fearful submission despite her effort to conceal her panic. Her Harry had absolutely no idea how shaken his wife was in the bad man's presence but he saw she was agitated for some unknown reason.

Now, years later, she met Mister Higgins again at the race track where she had gone to try her luck with some of the new stock in from Ireland. She hoped he didn't recognize her because she was wearing the sexy ensemble with the French garters underneath and exuded the persona of a rich bitch from the country.

"Ahh, Mrs. Goodpenny. We meet again. Allow me to extend my condolences for the passing of your husband. He was a good man and a credit to the police services. I didn't know you were interested in the ponies. I have a horse in the next race that is a bit long on the odds but I recommend a backing because she is quite the overlay completely missed by those idiot odds-makers. Her times yesterday and this morning were quite remarkable and I am certain she will return a tidy profit to any backer."

His arm around her waist was like a band of steel that made her his prisoner with just a light touch. Her heart was skipping a beat but she managed to thank him and made a point to head to the betting table and put a hundred pounds on the ten-to-one long-shot to show she had confidence in Mr. Higgin's friendly advice.

Martha was certain it would be a loss but it was not a matter of great concern because she wanted to at least report when queried that she had followed the advice without doubt because she knew instinctively that Mr. Higgins would have taken umbrage if she had not.

She was astonished that the entry won easily going away and that the final odds were 13 to 1 giving her a total return of 1,380 pounds for her one hundred pound wager. Mister Higgins waved at her with a smile on his face from the clubhouse but kept his distance because he had to go to the winner's circle with the jockey and the rest of the entourage.

The driving muscular legs of the sturdy horse came alive in the final turn and the move to the finish line caused her to shout in a most unladylike manner. Martha was shocked to discover her undies were soaked with the excitement of winning the race and she drove back to her townhouse with a sense of having incurred a debt to a man she really didn't want to be indebted to because she sensed the depth of his depravity and lack of concern for the finer points of gentle living.

Now that little Felicia, her niece's toddler, was safe with her mother, Martha decided to test Chief Inspector Tower's wrath by sticking her nose into the forensic information from the crime scene on the staircase. She was not too impressed with the physical results because they only confirmed what her eyes had already told her. It was the fact that her niece had recently had carnal relations in the hours preceding her tumble down the staircase that concerned her the most. The DNA would tell the identity of either the person who had staged the elaborate "accidental" death scene or the person who had stabbed Lady Rowena to draw attention to the fact that her death was no accident.

 
There is more of this chapter...
The source of this story is Storiesonline

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.