He shrugged but didn’t respond.
“I didn’t know what to do,” she went on. “Trevor was in Massachusetts. Dad was on the campaign trail. I finally broke down in front of Sylvia. She called my dad, and he came home. When I told him, I saw his fear. I sat in the living room while he and Sylvia talked. After that, he started asking questions. How far had I gone with Clay before? How far with other boys? It was clear what he was suggesting. I asked him what he planned to do, and he said there was nothing he could do. It was just a misunderstanding. I needed to forget about it.”
Anger gleamed in Joseph’s eyes. “Have you ever told anyone about this?”
She shook her head, feeling depleted. “I wanted to tell Trevor, but every time I talked to him he was busy with his studies. Then Dad won the election, and I dived into my senior year. I guess I never found the right moment.”
He placed a hand on hers. “I’m so sorry, Zoe. It wasn’t your fault.”
She nodded. “I know that now. Men take what they want and women get the blame. It’s happening today all over the world.”
He thought about this. “What were you doing at Arcades?”
“Having lunch with Sylvia.”
“Ah, now I understand.”
She looked into the sky and saw clouds forming. By mid-afternoon it would storm. “We should go back to the office.”
He looked into her eyes. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
She nodded, wiping away the last of her tears. “You need to talk to Mariam.”
chapter 20
Lusaka, Zambia
December, 2011
A few days later, Mariam summoned the response team to a morning meeting. Since the samples had been stolen from UTH, the legal team had retooled its approach to prosecuting Darious, focusing on the development of new evidence, and Joseph had spent two months beating the bushes in Kabwata and Kanyama, searching for an eyewitness he had missed. In the past week, he had also been working with Mariam to investigate Flexon Mubita. When he sat down at the conference table wearing a satisfied look, Zoe knew that he’d discovered something.
“I have good news and bad news,” Mariam began. “I’ll start with the bad news. As you know, my husband works for the Ministry of Home Affairs. At my request, he made some inquiries about the Principal Resident Magistrate. His official slate is clean. He’s a sharp, experienced, fair-minded judge. Unofficially, he’s been in the running for a seat on the High Court for years, and he’s always been passed over. Apparently, he hasn’t made the right friends.”
She placed her hands on the table. “It’s possible he met with Patricia Nyambo and the Deputy Minister of Justice for entirely proper reasons. I’d love to believe this, but I have serious doubts. A vote from the Ministry of Justice could guarantee him the next opening on the High Court. If I were in Mubita’s shoes, I would never agree to meet with them, not when I’m presiding over Darious’s trial. It raises too many questions. My guess is the Nyambos are courting him. With the parties involved, we have no way to stop that. If he turns against us, the best we can do is try the case and hope for an appealable issue.”
Niza looked skeptical. “Doesn’t a lunch meeting in public suggest they don’t have anything to hide? Rhapsody’s is an odd place to do a backroom deal.”
Sarge shook his head. “A restaurant gives them a legitimate excuse. Location isn’t the issue. It’s the meeting itself. I agree with Mariam. A careful judge would never agree to it, not under these circumstances. That he did agree to it suggests he’s thinking about something other than his reputation.”
Zoe looked at Mariam. “You know him. How likely is it that he’ll be corrupted?”
Mariam shrugged. “It depends on how much he wants what they’re offering. He’s always been fair to us. But that doesn’t mean he can’t change.”
Niza pursed her lips. “So what you’re saying is that this case could turn out to be a complete waste of time. What’s the good news?”
Mariam turned to Joseph. “Why don’t you tell everyone what you found?”
He leaned forward in his chair. “A while ago we had a discussion about whether the virgin rape myth played a role in Kuyeya’s assault. It was a wild theory, but I’ve been pursuing it. I now have evidence that the theory may be right.”
“You found an nganga,” Zoe said in amazement.
When he nodded, Niza asked, “How did you manage that?”
He smiled, enjoying the moment. “About a month ago I found an old woman in Kanyama who recognized Darious’s SUV. She said she’d seen it outside the house of an nganga by the name of Amos. I visited Amos and told him a story about being HIV-positive. I went back a couple of times, claiming the herbs he gave me didn’t work. Yesterday, I demanded a cure. I offered him a million kwacha. Guess what he prescribed?”
“You’re kidding,” Niza said. “He actually told you to have sex with a virgin.”