‘It’s a huge family,’ Kim said. ‘There was bound to be a good deal of misfortune.’
‘Two sons assassinated, not to mention helicopter, car and plane crashes. Most people would agree that family has had?—’
‘But it’s playing into it, isn’t it?’ Kim asked. ‘I mean every event that negatively affects the family is attributed to it. Someone dies on a plane, it’s the curse. Someone overdoses on drugs, it’s the curse. Someone takes their own life, it’s the curse. These things happen to other large, wealthy families, but no one cries curse every time.’
Donna shrugged as though she accepted the point but still didn’t believe it.
‘Have you heard about the curse of the chained oak?’
Kim shook her head.
‘There’s a seven-hundred-year-old oak tree tied in chains near the village of Alton. In the 1800s, on an autumn night, the Earl of Shrewsbury was returning to his home at Alton Towers. An old woman appeared in the road. She begged for a coin. The earl cruelly dismissed her so the old woman cursed him, saying that for every branch of the old oak tree that fell, a member of his family would die.
‘Later that night, a single branch fell in a storm and a member of the earl’s family died. The earl ordered his servants to chain every branch together to prevent them from falling. It’s still chained now.’
Kim immediately considered whether there were other reasons to chain the tree but decided against debating it. Her coffee was almost gone.
What she did know was that being told you’d been cursed could work like a post-hypnotic suggestion. If you believed in it, it would happen.
‘So, what curse was placed on the Stout family?’ Kim asked before draining her mug.
‘That no Stout male would live beyond fifty years of age.’
‘And?’
‘No man ever has,’ Donna said simply.
‘None at all?’ she asked, sensing Bryant’s impatience grow. ‘Why that particular curse?’
‘Because Edgar Stout was forty-nine at the time he raped the girl.’
‘And the curse worked immediately?’ Kim said doubtfully.
‘Of course. Edgar Stout died in a freak accident when a length of timber fell on his head as he supped his ale in the pub.’
‘Anyone else injured?’ Bryant asked.
Donna shook her head as the front door opened. She looked to the door with concern.
Eric Hubbard appeared in the doorway, looking haggard.
‘Did your mum see you?’ Donna asked.
He hesitated before he shook his head. ‘Wouldn’t even answer the door,’ he said before looking their way.
‘Police officers,’ Donna explained. ‘Mum confessed.’
Eric took a seat beside Donna and reached for her hand. Pain was etched into both of their faces.
‘We’re sorry for your loss, Eric,’ Kim said.
‘Thank you.’
Kim felt a twinge of sadness for this couple, caught in the crossfire of a feud that had nothing to do with them but was drawing them into its backlash. This was supposed to be an exciting time in their journey together. Instead, they were estranged from everyone they loved. Eric’s father had lost his life at the hands of Donna’s mother, who would now spend the rest of her life in prison.
Many things about the situation bothered her, but one particular question could be answered by the son of the man who had been gunned down.
‘Eric, may I ask you a question?’
