“We have other leads,” Mariam said. “We’ll find someone who can tell us her age.”
The DPP sighed. “Mariam, I have great respect for your team. Sarge and Niza are two of the best attorneys in Lusaka. But this isn’t some illiterate criminal you’re talking about. This is Darious Nyambo. His father is a former cabinet minister. His mother sits on the High Court.”
“Look, Levy,” Mariam said, “I know it’s a risk for you. I don’t want to be embarrassed by this either. But we’re in a dilemma. Our case isn’t airtight without DNA, but we can’t get a blood sample without a court order. To get a court order you have to let us prosecute.”
The pause that followed was pregnant with the DPP’s unspoken doubts. “Why didn’t Doris report her daughter’s rape? It could have prevented all of this.”
The question was rhetorical, and Mariam didn’t respond.
“You promise me the samples haven’t been tampered with?” he said at last.
Mariam nodded. “Dr. Chulu is preserving them at the hospital.”
The DPP cleared his throat. “The law is ambiguous, but it needs to change. Rape is far too common in this country. The only way we can create a lasting deterrent is to use DNA. Mariam, if you are willing to stake your reputation on the guilt of Darious Nyambo, then I’m going to let you. But if you fail, it could undermine everything you’ve worked for.”
When the DPP granted his consent, Zoe’s heart soared, but her eagerness was not reflected in the faces around the table. Mariam and Sarge were grave, and Niza looked ashen.
“Why don’t you think about it and let me know,” the DPP said, and ended the call.
For a long moment, no one in the room moved or spoke. Zoe held her breath, waiting for someone to break the ice.
“Sarge?” Mariam said at last.
Sarge tented his hands, returning her gaze. “A crime is a crime. I believe the evidence. I’m ready to move forward.”
Mariam turned to Niza. For once the young attorney had nothing to say.
“Niza, look at me,” Sarge said in a quiet voice, waiting until she did before continuing. “This is our chance to do what the politicians only talk about. We can change a life. We can change the system itself. But we need your help. I need your help.”
Finally, Niza spoke. “You know how much my father sacrificed for standing on principle?” she asked in an anguished voice. “He tried to convince Robert Mugabe to end the land-reform program. Mugabe might have had him killed if we hadn’t fled to Zambia.”
“Your father had courage,” Sarge replied. “He couldn’t ignore his conscience.”
As Zoe watched, something changed in Niza’s face. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw tensed with sudden resolve. “Nyambo will treat this as an act of war,” she said, smiling grimly. “If we want to stand any chance of winning, we have to do the same.”
Mariam picked up the phone and held the handset in the air. “Shall I make the call then?”
Niza answered for all of them. “Make the call.”
At six o’clock that evening, Joseph arrested Darious outside his father’s house in Kabulonga. It was an event Zoe wished she could have witnessed, just to see the look on Darious’s face when Joseph put him in handcuffs. But she couldn’t be there; she was an American, a woman, and an attorney. There were protocols to follow. And there was the matter of her safety.
Joseph conducted the interrogation at the police post in Woodlands. Zoe heard from him after he had placed Darious in the lockup.
“He denies all of it, of course,” Joseph said. “He claims he was with his father on the night Kuyeya was raped. We searched the SUV and didn’t find anything. Bella was right in naming him Siluwe. He’s extremely calculating.”
“You sound like you’re enjoying yourself,” she replied, sitting on the couch in her flat.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for a case like this. Listen, I have to write the report. I’m going to deliver the docket to the police prosecutor’s office in the morning. I have a friend who’ll make sure it’s indicted and sent to the Principal Resident Magistrate right away. We should get an initial hearing by the end of the week.”
“I take it Darious will get out on bond?”
“It’s already been arranged.”
“Did he hire Benson Luchembe?”
Joseph chuckled. “Of course. He’s coming down here in a few minutes.”
“So this is the beginning.”
“Yes,” he said, “but don’t get too excited. We have a long road ahead.”
Joseph was right. The wait for an initial hearing lasted only three days. On Thursday morning, Zoe climbed into Maurice’s Prado for the short trip to the Subordinate Court. Niza joined her in the back seat and Sarge settled in up front.