Molly Martens’ departure from the penitentiary where she finished the last segment of her sentence for brutally murdering her spouse, Jason Corbett, was over in nothing more than five seconds. Yet, the sight of her moving from the jail to the correction centre’s vehicle ignited a barrage of inquiries into the character of a person who could commit such an atrocity.
Outwardly, it was an utterly mundane scene: a slim woman, with dark hair, donned in a blue and white pinstriped summer frock entered a car on a sombre morning in June. She remained silent. A swift smirk was given in the direction of the car while her gaze stayed fixed on the ground. Her stoic expression was consistent with the one she held throughout her highly-publicised court proceedings and sentencing, revealing nothing more than a mirrored sense of vacant emotional expression.
In many respects, it was just an ordinary day in a secluded area of the North Carolina Correctional Centre for Women – the spot where inmates make their exit from the institution. This tranquil, green spot is a mere five-minute drive from the popular brunch locations in central Raleigh, but feels a world apart. A prison officer carrying a shotgun monitored the internal fence. A metal-detection sweep was implemented on all vehicles entering or exiting the fenced area. The huge, scarcely windowed building echoed the sound of birds singing, creating an eerie ambiance.
Between the hours of seven and eight, prison vans accessed the cordoned-off containment area in front of the release building to deliver inmates who arrived from another section of the institution. They were chattering as they ambled from the van to the entrance door, and spotting the media gathering on the opposing side of the fence, someone asked, “Who are all these cameras for?”
On their release date, the vast majority of inmates make their departure in complete obscurity. Barely past 7am, a woman disembarked the institution for the last time, still in her prison clothes, accustomed herself into a private vehicle and was driven out through the gates. Molly Martens’ release would, understandably, never have been this inconspicuous.
After originally being found guilty of second-degree murder, she was confronted with the possibility of being jailed for a maximum of two decades. The 2015 killing of Jason Corbett was committed by both Martens and her father, Tom Martens. Accepting a plea deal last year, they confessed to their roles in his violent death, where he was battered with a baseball bat and a brick. Since the occurrence, they’ve only spent four years behind bars, out of the last nine. Tom Martens, after being released from a minimum-security facility in Lenoir, which is around a three-hour drive from Raleigh, has completed his term. When their post-prison supervision concludes in the coming twelve months, their probation period will also be terminated. Thus, the legal repercussions for the murder of Jason Corbett will be brought to a close.
Currently, the North Carolina prison facility houses a range of notorious criminals. Among them are Blanche Taylor Moore, a condemned murderer awaiting execution, who was convicted in a 1990 trial for the lethal poisoning of her boyfriend, and Barbara Stager, who had her 1989 death sentence for murdering her husband replaced with life imprisonment.
Molly Martens’s punishment didn’t align with the severity those other convicts faced for their crimes. Yet her name has gained significant recognition, which isn’t going to dissipate quickly. The lenient sentence ruling from November of last year has nettled the extended Corbett family, as it means she’ll be leaving the prison after completing only seven months more of her prison term. This decision has also displeased local officers who were part of the murder investigation.
David Grice, a sheriff who recently retired, was quoted saying, “They walked away with just a slap on the wrist.” He confessed, “I’ve had to be very cautious with what I say for many years to prevent affecting the appeals.”
With no further legal punishments awaiting them, the Martens have run the course of the North Carolina judicial process. They have yet to express remorse for the physical harm inflicted on Jason Corbett, or the emotional torment caused, not only to his children and extended family, who continue to grieve for him.
Whether they’ll voice their opinions in the times to come, or simply blend into the mundane daily life, denying Jason Corbett the fundamental right they snatched from him – the right to exist, is yet to be determined. North Carolina, with its extensive wilderness, is a large part of an even greater country, the United States. The Martens now have the liberty to progress. However, they leave behind a path marked with despair, horrific brutality, and profound agony.