Paul B Kidd - Shallow Graves. The Concealments of Killers

CHAPTER 1

THE WALES-KING MURDERS

The April 2002 brutal bashing murders of Margaret Wales-King and her husband Paul King were dubbed by the Melbourne press as the 'Society Murders, yet nothing could be further from the truth. They were wealthy and lived in a comfortable townhouse in the leafy establishment suburb of Armadale, but other than that they were just ordinary people living their lives beyond reproach.

The couple were more interested in their children and in their family life with their 11 grandchildren than any glittering fundraising cocktail party where they could be photographed for the social pages in the Sunday papers. Well-off, yes. But A-list society? Not really, at least these days. A retired investor, 74-year-old Paul King was an invalid who had suffered two strokes. He was the second husband of 68-year-old Margaret, who had previously been married to airline pilot Brian Wales, with whom she had five children.

When she married Paul King, who was of independent means, Margaret was substantially wealthy in her own right, estimated to be worth in the vicinity of five million dollars, consisting of her home, car, jewellery and antiques, cash and substantial shareholdings and superannuation. In her will it said that upon her death her husband and five children were each to receive a sixth of her estate. But one of the children wasnt prepared to wait that long. He felt he had been hard done by and decided to do something about it.

The events of the Society Murders began on the afternoon of 4 April 2002, with vegetable risotto and soup cooked by Margarets youngest son, Matthew. He prepared the meal in the kitchen of the $1900-a-month Melbourne house he rented with his wife, Maritza, and toddler son, Domenik, at 1/152 Burke Road, Glen Iris. While he cooked and two-year-old Domenik slept, Matthew ran through the events of his life in his head. He thought about how his mother still treated him like a child, despite the fact that he was 34 years old how she tried to control his life, how she didnt let him grow up and be his own man, how she had never seemed to show him affection, but was always ready to tell him what to do and how to do it.

He thought about the power games she played by holding back family money to which he believed he was entitled. In fact, it hadnt been very long since Margaret had sold a flat in Surfers Paradise that had been left to Matthew and his brothers and sisters by their grandfather. Margaret had refused to allow them to see the paperwork for the sale and there had been a large family argument. As was her way after such events, Margaret hadnt spoken to Matthew for a month afterwards. Matthew hated it when she acted like that.

He also thought about the way his mother kept him separate from his older siblings. About the thinly veiled contempt she had for his wife Maritza, just because she was born in Chile and came from a lower socioeconomic background than their family. He thought about how Margaret acted towards Domenik, as if he was a pet she had to treat nicely, but didnt particularly care about.

With a spoon he crushed up a bunch of Panadeine Forte and blood pressure tablets stolen from his mother-in-law and scraped the resulting powder into a wine glass for later use. Then he went back to stirring the risotto. After Domenik woke up, for a short while Matthew watched his beautiful young son play with some of his many toys. Then he went outside to his garage and retrieved a solid piece of pine with a round end. He stashed it behind a hedge in the front garden of the house a yard hidden from street view by a 1.8-metre high brick wall.

Maritza returned from her small fashion business Maritzas Imports at 1264 High Street, Armadale at 5.30 p.m. and took over playing with Domenik. Matthew returned to cooking the vegetable soup he would be serving that night as an entree. The shop wasnt going very well after just nine months' trading it was $52,000 down. Money was tight in the Wales house. Maritzas Imports had been on the market for six weeks, but as yet there hadnt been any solid interest. They planned to set up a cafe, utilising Matthews skills in the kitchen, skills he had developed as a house-husband. Trained as a hairdresser, he had been forced to give up this line of work after hurting his hand.

Margaret and Paul arrived at Burke Road at about 6.45 p.m., with Margaret driving her silver Mercedes-Benz E320 sedan through the front gate that Matthew had left open for them. Paul, who had suffered the second of two strokes just two months earlier, sat in the passenger seat. He wasnt considered to be safe behind the wheel anymore. In fact, most of Margarets time these days seemed to be devoted to looking after the man that many had seen as little more than her handbag ever since they had gotten together. It was a far cry from the social butterfly she had once been, just a couple of years previously.

Wearing his best attempt at a smile, Matthew greeted his mother and stepfather and walked back inside with them. He went to check the meal while Maritza poured wine for the guests. She spoke to Margaret, while Paul and Domenik went into the front room to play with the young boys toys. After a while, Matthew decided dinner was ready. Margaret and Maritza took their places at the table while Matthew went to fetch his son and Paul. What he later said he saw was the final straw he would indeed now go through with his plan to murder his mother and stepfather.

Paul allegedly had his hand in the front of the toddlers nappy. Withholding the rage that burned inside him, Matthew silently picked up his son and carried him back to the dining room, where he gave him to Maritza before going to the kitchen to serve up the soup. Into two of the bowls he dispensed the powdered pills he had prepared earlier and carried them out to Margaret and Paul, telling them to start before the entree got cold. He wanted the pills to slow them down so they wouldnt actually suffer any pain when he acted out the next phase of his plan.

With a million thoughts going through his head, Matthew somehow managed to remain calm through the meal. Margaret presided over the dinner from the head of the table, where she told everyone about Matthews four older brothers and sisters and what her other various grandchildren had been up to. Matthew couldnt believe how inconsequential the conversation was. Margaret only ever seemed to talk about trivial matters. When it came to the important stuff in Matthews life money, his feelings towards Paul, what was happening with his own family it seemed to be a closed book. Instead, Margaret told everyone that she needed a holiday; she was tired after handling her own financial affairs and caring for Paul, who had started going to a care facility every Monday.

So, Margaret talked and the others listened and then, after dinner, they all went to the lounge room for tea. Like any toddler, Domenik was a handful. He played for the amusement of the adults, who went through two bottles of wine mainly drunk by Margaret and Paul. By 9.30 p.m., Domenik had worn himself out. He had sung Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, showed off his toys, and now it was late for such a little boy. He started turning into trouble, so Maritza decided to give him a bottle and take him to bed. He kissed his grandparents sweetly and went up the stairs to his room with his mother.

Once they were gone, Margaret said that she and Paul should make their way home as well. She helped her second husband stand up and they walked outside with Matthew behind them. Standing in the front yard, Margaret looked around and told Matthew that he needed to tidy it up. It was, she said, in need of attention.

Her son turned the light off and retrieved the slab of pine he had hidden that afternoon. While his mother walked behind Paul to the car, Matthew used both hands and all of his strength to swing the wood into the back of her neck. He could only watch as Margaret fell silently to the floor.