I'm going to survive whatever it takes if I got to kill these people if I got to kill them in the dump and body.

Whether he may have just enough to get her out where he could get her in a position to kill.

He could have had a sense of protection knowing that I'm doing this to pay back this debt to a corrupt official police officer.

Push comes to shove I can take him with me.

He's in jail so she does feel safe and secure in the relationships now.

She knew too much. She knew everything.

Welcome back to Shattered Souls, The Car Barn Murders. I'm your host Karen Smith. This is Episode 11.

This podcast may contain graphic language and is not suitable for children.

Previously on The Car Barn Murders.

William Clark, who became my primary suspect, made a cataclysmic underestimation of his paramour, Mary Branch.

In the middle of the night on May 27, 1935, Clark took Mary for a ride to a desolate mill in Ilchester, Maryland.

He beat her to near unconsciousness with a blackjack before tossing her body over a 35-foot bridge into the Patapsco River.

He had to silence her so he drove all the way out to an old grist mill, a place where very few people would ever set foot.

William Clark took Mary's debilitated body from the car and heaved her over the bridge span.

In less than two seconds, Mary fell three and a half stories and splashed down into the river, the equivalent of being struck by a car going 35 miles an hour.

Jagged granite rocks jetted out from the water, which was only four feet deep.

Mary's bleeding and battered body was jolted by the cold, unforgiving surface.

She'd landed in a pocket between the rocks that surely would have killed her.

Down was up, up was down, and Mary fought to get her bearings in the frigid water.

There was no light, only a waning crescent moon, and as Mary surfaced into the blackness, she screamed.

Flows of red poured from the gashes in her head.

Gaining a foothold, she instinctively looked up at the bridge span.

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