Suddenly, the girl blurted out, “He touched me. He wasn’t supposed to touch. He touched me. He wasn’t supposed to touch.” She repeated the accusation a third time, as if to seal the truth of her words.
Her testimony transformed the courtroom. Instantly, Darious lost his smugness; Benson Luchembe slumped in his seat; his team sat motionless; Sarge beamed; Niza’s eyes shimmered with tears—something Zoe had never seen before; Sister Irina looked astonished; Timothy, the law clerk, stopped his scribbling. Zoe caught the harsh light in Frederick’s eyes, the absolute determination. She faced the judge and her joy turned sour. He sat on the bench like a potted plant, looking unimpressed. Don’t you dare take this away from her, she thought, struggling to contain her indignation.
At once Mubita waved toward Darious. “I’ve heard enough. Get back in the dock. Sarge, I assume you have no further questions.”
“I’m finished, Your Worship,” Sarge said.
The judge looked at Luchembe. “Do you wish to cross-examine?”
The defense attorney shook his head.
Mubita sat back in his chair. “By my count the next witness is your last.”
“That’s correct,” Sarge replied.
“Get to it then.”
Sarge pushed Kuyeya to the bar and Zoe took over from there, wheeling her out of the courtroom. The girl’s hands were folded tightly in her lap, and she was whispering something about her mother. When they reached the arcade, Zoe prised the ring from the girl’s grasp and slipped it on her middle finger—the only finger large enough to fit it.
“You did so well,” she said, kissing Kuyeya’s head. “I’m very proud of you.” She looked at Sister Irina. “Take her home. The music and the garden will soothe her.”
“I hope so,” Sister Irina replied quietly.
Zoe saw Jan Kruger watching her from a bench nearby. Her first thought was unkind: You kept your distance. Her second was more charitable: At least you’re here.
“Dr. Kruger,” she said, walking toward him.
He stood up. “Call me Jan. The formalities seem a touch out of place.”
“Do you have the paperwork?”
“It’s all here.” He held up a leather satchel.
They entered the courtroom together, and Zoe escorted him to the bar. Then she turned around and stared at Frederick. The elder Nyambo looked stunned.
“Your Worship,” Sarge said, “Dr. Jan Kruger is my final witness.”
After the judge swore him in, Sarge ran through the doctor’s credentials. Jan answered confidently, yet cautiously, his diction exacting.
“You are a university professor and a medical doctor?”
“I teach epidemiology, yes. And I do clinical work in the townships.”
“I’d like to focus on your activities in 1996. What were you doing in March and April of that year?”
“I was wrapping up a study at the Livingstone General Hospital. We were seeking to identify discernible links between HIV infection and the incidence of common childhood illnesses—pneumonia, malaria, TB, and diarrhea.”
“Did you do any teaching alongside the research?”
Jan nodded. “I taught a practicum course at the nursing school.”
“Was there a nursing student with whom you worked closely during that period?”
“There was. Her name was Charity Mizinga.”
Sarge glanced at the judge to make sure he was paying attention. “How close were the two of you?” he asked.
Jan took a moment to answer. “We were intimate.”
Whispers broke out in the gallery and the judge’s temper flared. “Quiet in the courtroom!” He turned his frown toward Jan Kruger. “Go on.”
“When you say intimate,” Sarge continued, “what do you mean?”
With the precision of a clinician, Jan summarized his affair with Charity—their rapport as doctor and nurse, their brief romance, and the way he broke her heart.
“When did you last see her?” Sarge asked.
“In April of 1996. Before she moved to Lusaka.”
“At that time, did she have a child?”
Jan shook his head. “She did not.”
“You say she moved to Lusaka. Do you know why she did that?”
“I’m afraid I suggested it.”
Zoe glanced at Darious and saw his confusion. This is part of the story you’ve never heard before.
“Why did you suggest it?” Sarge inquired.
“Because Frederick Nyambo had offered her a job and promised to take care of her.”
Shock registered on the judge’s face. “Explain yourself,” he demanded, ignoring Sarge who was on the verge of asking another question.
Jan faced Mubita, a look of resignation in his eyes. “Frederick was a patient of mine,” he said, and then proceeded to tell the judge the rest of the story.
When he finished speaking, Sarge asked, “Do you know what happened to Charity after she left Livingstone?”
“I do. Frederick hired her as his personal assistant and had an affair with her.”
“Your Worship!” Luchembe objected loudly. “Frederick Nyambo is not on trial here!”
“That’s quite right,” Mubita agreed. “I may not admit any of this testimony. But Dr. Kruger has come all the way from South Africa. I want to hear what he has to say.”