The Garden of Burning Sand

He wrapped her in his arms and began to whisper-sing an African lullaby—in Nyanja or Tonga or Bemba, she didn’t know. The soft cadence of the words soothed her shattered nerves but did little to console her. She couldn’t bring herself to think about the trial that would begin in just a few hours. She couldn’t fathom sitting in the gallery while Darious swore his innocence and Frederick looked on like a man with nothing to hide. Yet that is exactly what she would have to do. The case would not be delayed on her account.

She closed her eyes and forced the memories of violence out of her mind. She focused on Joseph’s song, the quiet rhythm, the unfamiliar words.

At last, she drifted off to sleep.





chapter 27




Just before nine the next morning, Zoe took her seat in Courtroom 10, anticipating and dreading the appearance of the judge. Like actors waiting for the curtain to rise, the players in the trial were subdued, pensive. Lawyers doodled mindlessly on notepads; the witnesses from Kanyama—Given, Dominic, Wisdom, Agnes and Abigail—sat as still as statues; Dr. Chulu shifted his weight around and rubbed his hands together repeatedly; even Benson Luchembe, dressed in his Savile Row suit and surrounded by a coterie of associates, appeared nervous.

Or so Zoe wanted to believe.

The events of the night before had shaken her confidence deeply, and she was struggling to stay composed. In addition to the break-in at the Prentices’ bungalow, intruders had ransacked the CILA office, tearing apart case files, and sabotaging computers and office equipment. Had Sarge and Niza not taken their trial materials home with them, the prosecution almost certainly would have been derailed. The night guards were as shocked as the staff to learn what had happened. They claimed they had heard no sounds, seen nothing suspicious. Niza and Zoe suspected otherwise, but there was no way of proving their complicity.

Zoe fingered the scab on her ear and glanced at Frederick Nyambo. He was alone, as he had been at every hearing since the arraignment, his wife apparently having contented herself to exercise her influence behind the scenes. His face was a picture of imperial calm. He met Zoe’s eyes and smiled slightly. The deck is stacked, he seemed to say. We own this game.

Suddenly, the door to chambers opened and Flexon Mubita appeared with a young man who looked like a law clerk. The judge ascended the bench and ordered the courtroom deputy to bring in the accused. Darious sat in the dock and stared at Mubita blankly. His lack of visible remorse fueled Zoe’s rage. After all she had done, after the mountains CILA had moved, his fate rested in the hands of a judge whose integrity was in doubt.

“Good morning, everyone,” Mubita intoned, nodding cordially to Sarge and Benson Luchembe. “This is the trial of Darious Nyambo, who is charged with the defilement of a child under the age of sixteen. Are there any matters I need to address before we move forward?”

Sarge stood slowly, looking a bit wobbly on his feet. “Your Worship, last night armed intruders broke into the home where Zoe Fleming has been staying since the attack on her flat. One of the intruders was killed in the skirmish, but he has yet to be identified. Intruders also broke into our office and destroyed files and equipment. As you know, this prosecution has been marred by obstructions of justice, but this level of violence is unprecedented. We don’t yet have evidence linking the attacks to the accused, but there is no other explanation.”

Mubita looked genuinely shocked. He glared at Benson Luchembe. “Do you have any knowledge of this?”

The defense lawyer shook his head vehemently. “Of course not, Your Worship. I’m as horrified as you are. And I resent counsel’s accusation. Without evidence of complicity, he should hold his tongue.”

The judge glowered at Darious. “If I ever learn that the defense was involved in this campaign of lawlessness, I will personally throw all of you in jail for contempt.” He turned back to Sarge. “Are you requesting a continuance?”

Sarge hesitated. “No, Your Worship. We are prepared to try the case today.”

The judge nodded. “As disturbed as I am by these developments, I don’t like the thought of further delay.” He looked at Zoe. “Ms. Fleming, I’m very sorry for what happened to you. I assume you will be tightening security at your home?”

“It’s already been done, Your Worship,” she said evenly.

“Good,” Mubita replied, picking up his pen. “I’m ready for opening statements.”

Sarge and Benson Luchembe made quick work of their openings. Sarge summarized the facts the prosecution would establish but remained coy about Darious’s motive and his family’s history with Charity Mizinga. Luchembe, on the other hand, enumerated the weaknesses in the prosecution’s case—Kuyeya’s inability to name the accused and the prosecution’s failure to produce an eyewitness to the rape. Afterward, the judge directed Sarge to call his first witness.

“I call Given Sensele,” Sarge said.

Corban Addison's books