Luchembe raised his eyebrows. “You don’t remember meeting him about three months ago outside your house? You were playing a game with a few other boys.”
“Objection,” said Sarge. “Counsel is assuming facts not in evidence.”
Luchembe stood up and shrugged deferentially. “Your Worship, I’m not assuming anything. I want nothing more than to know what the boy remembers.”
The magistrate looked at Sarge. “Objection overruled. The inquiry is appropriate.”
The defense lawyer faced the boy again. “You said you haven’t seen the man in the gray suit. I want to know whether you remember meeting him outside your house in Kanyama.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen that man,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.
The defense lawyer nodded gravely. “Do you remember seeing me that day?”
Dominic looked flummoxed. “I see you now.”
“Indeed,” Luchembe replied, catching the judge’s eye. “That’s all I have, Your Worship.”
Mubita regarded Sarge. “Anything further?”
Sarge stood up slowly. “Dominic, do you remember meeting the muzungu woman who is also sitting in the front row of the gallery?”
Please say yes, Zoe thought, as the boy turned toward her.
To her overwhelming relief, he began to nod. “I have seen her. She came to my house. She showed me a picture of a girl.”
“Was the girl in the picture the same as the girl you saw that night outside your house?”
Benson Luchembe leapt to his feet. “I object. The question is leading.”
The judge nodded. “Sustained.”
Sarge sidestepped the objection. “Who was the girl in the picture, do you remember?”
Dominic smiled brightly. “It was the girl who was crying.”
Sarge nodded, looking satisfied. He glanced at his watch. “Your Worship, I’m finished with this witness. Perhaps we should break for lunch.”
Mubita put down his pen, looking relieved. “This Court will be in recess for one hour.”
At half past one, the lawyers reassembled in the courtroom. The judge appeared promptly and took a seat on the bench. Sarge began the afternoon session with Agnes and Abigail. He moved through their testimony chronologically, eliciting only the essential facts—the location of their houses, the engine and drumbeats Agnes heard, Abigail’s discovery of Kuyeya on the street, her examination of the child, and the blood she saw on Kuyeya’s leg. On cross-examination, Luchembe limited himself to a few questions designed to clarify that neither woman saw Darious or his SUV on the street. Sarge declined to redirect and called Dr. Chulu to the stand.
The physician sat in the witness chair and placed a folder on his lap. After qualifying him as an expert in pediatric medicine, Sarge asked him about the nature of Kuyeya’s injuries.
“She had bruising and tearing in the vaginal area,” Dr. Chulu said. “She had lesions on the skin. I took samples of blood and semen and a handful of photographs with the colposcope, but she was in no condition for a more thorough exam.”
Sarge handed Mubita the photos from the colposcopy, and the judge looked through them. “Compared with the worst cases you’ve seen,” Mubita said, “how bad is this?”
“The child was in great distress,” Dr. Chulu answered, “but the physical damage was on the surface. There was no evidence of fistula—the tearing of the wall between vagina and rectum. In this sense, the child was fortunate. Her body healed reasonably quickly.”
Nodding, the judge asked Sarge to proceed.
The prosecutor leaned against counsel table. “Given the evidence you gathered that night and your medical training, what was the cause of Kuyeya’s injuries?”
Dr. Chulu looked at the judge. “There is no doubt in my mind that the girl was raped. The blood, the semen, the surface injuries are consistent with nothing else.”
When Sarge sat down, Benson Luchembe rose to his feet. “Dr. Chulu, your experience in these matters is impressive, but there is a gap in your testimony. Beyond saying that the girl was defiled, can you say anything about who might have committed this terrible crime?”
The physician raised an eyebrow. “The biological evidence I took from the victim could have been analyzed for DNA, but it was stolen before we were able to compare it with a sample of the defendant’s blood.”
Luchembe held out his hands reasonably. “There are 1.7 million people in Lusaka. Why would you think my client would be a match?”
“Perhaps because a number of eyewitnesses placed him at the scene of the crime.”
“The scene of the crime? You mean someone saw my client defile the victim?”
“No,” Dr. Chulu admitted. “I’m not aware of anyone who saw the defilement itself.”