“This isn’t personal, is it, Mr.
Mungai?” asked Marwa as they walked the long corridor to Judge Adan Mohammed’s
chambers. The judge had called for a recess and summoned the two lawyers to his
chambers to deliberate on the sentence.
“No,” replied
Mungai, the prosecutor. “Not in the slightest. One thing that has made me come
this far in my career is the fact that I removed emotions, grudges and beefs
from my prosecution equation, and remained with truth and justice as the common
denominator. We may have crossed paths with your client’s father, punches and
blows thrown – figuratively that is – but your client is not in my shit-list.
He is on my criminal list. I wouldn’t want to rid the society of your client on
vendetta. With the spate of murders he has committed, robberies he has orchestrated
and arsenal found in his house – as though he was preparing for a war – it’s
automatic that the court gives him the noose, sheer luck if it’s life. And
don’t tell me you don’t know this, counsel?”
Marwa smiled and
suddenly his face did not seem as sharp as it was in court a moment ago
defending a bank robber, murderer and rapist. Talk of a hard, incorrigible
criminal.
“I won’t,” Marwa
said. “And don’t tell me you don’t know when a lawyer is performing for the
cameras too… even if the media weren’t there. You know how it is with clients.
They like to see some drama for their money. That’s the babe of criminal
lawyers.”
His smile stayed
on the prosecutor until they entered Judge Adan’s chambers.
“You almost went
for each other’s throats in there,” Judge Adan said when the two attorneys at
law were seated opposite him. “Needn’t I tell you how to behave in a courtroom?
You very well know that school-kids drama in my court is a no-no.” the judge
paused as though for effect. “However, you know why I called you here,” Judge
Adan finished.
For a moment,
the two lawyers sat silent wondering who would be the first one to say
something.
“Prosecution
calls for a death sentence, and not because we want to make an example because
of whom he is.”
“My client is
guilty,” Marwa said, “but that does not mean frying him for all hell takes.
I’ve talked with his father. Senator Mutuma Nzilo does not want to see his son
go away forever, or anything like that, but a short spell in jail might bring
back his senses. If he has any left.”
“Are you
suggesting a lesser punishment or sentence…”
“No, no. Not in
the least. I have discussed this with Senator Mutuma and he wants his criminal
son, who’s an embarrassment to him and the family, to have a taste of the rule
of law.”
“I hear what you
are saying, counselor,” Judge Adan said, “but with the magnitude of your
client’s crimes life imprisonment is a sentence too lenient.”
“I understand
that,” the lawyer said. “Senator Mutuma has already talked with the Attorney
General, and the president. My client would be granted presidential pardon
after three years. Off the record, Senator Mutuma has played a significant role
in the just concluded elections. President Hombie owes him a few too.”
“If that’s the
case,” the prosecutor said, “prosecution rests its case.”
“Good, you just
made this stalemate easier. Counsel here has evidence enough to exonerate his
client of the criminal charges, so is prosecution to put the accused on death
row. Off the record, you should drop by for dinner sometimes, gentlemen,” the
judge said.
“Guilty plea it
is,” said the criminal lawyer.
Copyright ©Vincent de Paul, 2012.
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