Officer Martinez sat behind the desk looking over paperwork when she walked in.

"Hello sir, I'm here to turn myself in."

The corpulent man sweating profusely in his uniform looked up slowly and sat back in his chair. He looked at the little elderly lady barely visible above the huge counter. She had to stand on her tiptoes to see over it.

"What can I do for you ma'am?" He had no time for this today, he had so much paperwork to get out before the weekend and his irritation showed.

"I'm here to turn myself in, I killed my husband and I'm letting you know."

"Oh hell no, not on a Friday afternoon. I get 'em all" he thought.

"OK, come on around the corner and sit down. We'll go over your "confession". He was going to let her talk for a minute, turn her loose and get back to his paperwork.

The little lady was using a walker and her gait was slow and steady, one tennis shoe in front of the other until she came to the officer's desk. She was agonizingly slow as she put aside the walker and slid in to the chair. Sizing her up quickly she must have been about 4'10", 85 lbs. with silvery white hair that was so thin on top you could see her scalp. And she was old, VERY old.

"OK, what's your name, age, address, phone number and what's the complaint?"

"Well my name is Claire, Claire Booth and I'm 83 years old, I can't remember the address of the nursing home and I don't have a phone but I'm here to tell you I murdered my husband."

"You -- murdered your husband? OK, when was this?" Officer Martinez still was not very interested. Obviously she needed to go back to the nursing home and maybe they could give her something to help her sleep. He was wishing he could take something right now himself.

"January 19th, 1967" Claire said matter-of-factly. "I was, let's see 33 at the time I believe."

"Wait, wait, you're telling me you killed your husband, let's see, 50 years ago and you're just now getting around to confessing? What should I think Claire?"

"I know Officer but it's been on my mind awhile and I am getting on in years now so I need to confess, kind of cleanse my soul, soothe my conscience. Oh not about killing the Sonofabitch but because I lied to everyone, his family, our kids, you guys and everyone should know the truth, the whole truth. At least the ones that are still alive. Most are gone now and I won't be around much longer myself."

"Suppose you tell me what happened and uh, how you did him in. Start from the beginning Claire. Can I get you anything? Some water maybe?" He was beginning to feel sorry for this pathetic old person who could hardly sit up straight let alone come in from who knew where?

"A sip of water would be good, thank you, it's been quite a day for me. I had to slip out of the home and those attendants are ruthless. They'll catch you in a New York minute then they won't let you go to Bingo."

Officer Martinez got the water and a tape recorder, just in case.

"I'm going to tape your confession Claire. Please state your name, age, and then tell me your story".

"Well I'm Claire Booth, just like the famous one, I am 83 years old and I am here to tell you I murdered my husband. His name was Virgil Booth. We had two kids that witnessed years of screaming, hollering and beatings from that asshole. He was a drunk by anybody's standards even though he held down a government job. He worked for the Post Office you know. I don't think they could get rid of him, but whatever, he would come home from work, eat what I fixed and then sit in this particular chair that was his, nobody else was allowed to touch it. He would get a six pack of beer and a pint of whiskey and start downing shots followed by beer chasers. He'd sit there and start getting mad, you know I could see it every night. He'd start glaring at me and then he'd start talking about how stupid I was and how ugly I was and how he was so sorry he ever married me. I wasn't ugly Officer, I was tired! I had to stay up until he went to bed or fell asleep because I was afraid of what he could do. I worked too and then I'd come home and do all the housework and watch him. Sometimes he came after me and then there'd be a huge fight. To tell you the truth, it was pretty even, the fighting I mean because he was usually pretty drunk. But my nerves were shot trying to protect my kids and myself. I guess you could say I had some kind of breakdown because I started planning his murder. That's all I thought about. Yep, I planned it from the beginning. Every time he beat me I told myself I was going to kill him and I did."

"OK Claire how did you kill him?"

"Burned him up. He had a really bad habit of smoking while he was getting drunk and a lot of times he'd drop his cigarette in that damned chair. He had holes burned in it everywhere. Anyway one night when the kids were at their Grandma's house Virgil passed out in his chair as usual, a cigarette in his hand as usual so I came along, tipped over his big can of lighter fluid and whoosh, up it all went. Then I left. I didn't know if that would do it or not but he'd be out of commission for a long time. And it worked, I went to the store, shopped for an hour and headed home. When I came around the corner I saw firetrucks, police and ambulances at the house. I acted really scared and panicky but I knew, yep I knew. A very nice policeman asked me who I was and I told him I lived there. He said by the time they got there the fire had gotten pretty hot and destroyed most of the living area, the neighbor saw smoke and called the fire department but it was too late for my husband. He, unfortunately died at the scene. I acted like I was upset but I was glad in my heart I was happy. He wasn't going to hurt me or the kids anymore and I was, shall I say, relieved he was dead." She took a sip of the water.

Officer Martinez sat in silence for a minute or two, trying to make sense of what had just happened. And he was remembering some things himself, the abuse he witnessed his mother go through, the mean spirited father who always had a drink in his hand and a serious way of humiliating him and his mother. "You stupid little bastard, you'll never amount to anything. You're just like your mother, stupid". And Officer Martinez believed it, lived with it, hated it for years. Like a stone around his neck.
He looked at Claire and pulled the tape out of the machine, walked over and threw it away.

"Claire, you've told your story now and it's time to move on, it's over, trust me. Your kids don't need to know this, nobody needs to know this. You can rest assured that it needs to be forgotten, it was so long ago and you were a different person then. Do you understand what I'm telling you? Let it go Claire."

"Really? You think I should? I've held it in for over 50 years and really it's a relief just to tell someone."

"Don't tell anyone else Claire. This is between you and me, OK?"

She put her tiny bony finger up to her mouth and said, "OK then. I guess I need to get back to the home. Will you call a cab for me? And thank you sir. I won't forget."

"Neither will I Claire, neither will I."

And Officer Martinez went back to his bookwork.