The examination of a minor child was always a sensitive matter, but Sarge handled Given with practiced grace. He showed her photographs of the alley where she saw the silver SUV and photographs of Darious’s Mercedes, and she identified the Lusaka Golf Club crest on the rear of the SUV. Luchembe objected when Sarge asked Darious to stand up and turn around, but the judge overruled the objection. After Darious complied, Sarge pointed at him.
“Does the accused resemble the man you saw in the alley?”
Given’s answer resonated in the chamber. “I didn’t see his face. I only saw his back. But, yes. He looks like the man I saw.”
When Sarge yielded the floor, Luchembe smiled politely at the girl. “Ms. Sensele, you said you were on your way home when you saw the silver SUV. How fast were you walking?”
The girl thought for a moment. “I was walking quickly.”
“You were walking quickly because you were alone and it was dark outside?”
Given nodded.
“You were walking quickly when you observed the silver SUV?”
“Yes. But I stopped when I saw it.”
The defense attorney frowned. “May I ask why you did that?”
Given looked temporarily confused. “It was an expensive car. I wondered who was in it.”
“But you didn’t see who was in it. You testified you didn’t see his face.”
“He looked like the man in the dock,” the girl rejoined.
Luchembe shrugged. “You don’t know that for certain, do you?”
Given seemed to bristle. “I already told you what I saw.”
The defense lawyer pursed his lips and asked no further questions.
Next on the witness list was Wisdom. The teenager sauntered through the bar, a caricature of adolescent bravado. He sized up Darious, cast a confident look at the judge, and focused on Sarge, who led him through the night of the rape—the TV program he was watching, the sound of an engine on the street, seeing the taillights of a silver SUV. Sarge also showed him a hand-drawn map of his neighborhood and asked him to mark the location of his house.
Soon, Sarge turned the young man over to Benson Luchembe, who promptly made mincemeat of his testimony, establishing that he had no idea about the make and model of the SUV let alone who owned it, who was driving it, whether there were any passengers in it, where it had come from, or where it went after it passed his house. “In summary, then,” Luchembe sneered, “you didn’t really see anything that night, did you?”
Wisdom gave Luchembe a sullen look.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” said the lawyer, sitting down again.
Next, Sarge summoned Dominic. “The boy speaks very little English,” Sarge said, escorting him to the witness stand. “His language is Nyanja.”
The judge waved to his law clerk. “Timothy will interpret.”
When Timothy stationed himself beside Dominic, Sarge led the boy through a series of questions about the court process and the nature of truth-telling. Dominic’s answers were uncomplicated, but he seemed capable of holding his own in a chamber of lawyers.
“I don’t believe the boy is qualified,” Benson Luchembe objected. “My client’s freedom shouldn’t be imperiled by the unreliable memories of a seven-year-old child.”
The judge shook his head. “The boy seems lucid. I’d like to hear what he remembers.”
Luchembe sat down heavily while Sarge began to question Dominic. The boy was bright and seemed to enjoy the chance to tell the judge his story. He spoke in short bursts of Nyanja, and Timothy translated. Sarge showed Dominic the hand-drawn map he had presented to Wisdom. The boy struggled to point out his house until he understood that the bush-like symbol at the center represented the tree in Abigail’s yard. He pointed to a house just down the street.
“I stay there,” he said.
Sarge showed Dominic the photographs of Darious’s SUV and the Lusaka Golf Club crest, both of which the boy identified. He also identified Kuyeya playing in the yard at St. Francis. “It is the girl I saw,” he said. “She looks happy here. That night she was crying.”
Instead of cross-examining the child on his feet, Luchembe moved his chair over to the witness stand. “I’m Benson,” the lawyer began, affecting a fatherly tone. “You told Mr. Zulu that it was dark when you saw the truck and the child, isn’t that right?”
Dominic fidgeted in his chair. “The night is dark.”
Luchembe smiled. “Indeed it is. Dominic, you said that the man you saw looked like the man over there, correct?” The lawyer pointed at Darious, sitting in the dock, and the boy nodded. “Do you recognize the man sitting in the front row of the gallery? He is wearing a gray suit.”
The boy looked toward the man in question, and Zoe followed his gaze. The man—a member of the defense team—stared back at Dominic. The boy frowned and shook his head.
“Are you saying you have never seen him before?” Luchembe inquired.
“I don’t remember that man,” the boy said, sounding confused.
“Are you certain? Why don’t you think again?”
Zoe glanced between the boy and the man, feeling genuine concern. Dominic’s testimony was crucial to the case, yet the defense lawyer appeared poised to neutralize it.
“I don’t think I have seen him,” the boy said, less sure of himself.