Leopard Hunts in Darkness - Smith Wilbur (книга бесплатный формат .TXT) 📗
"I know the feeling," Craig grinned ruefully, and banged his crutch on the floor.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Craig."
"No, dorA be. Somehow I no longer mind talking about my missing pin. Not with you, anyway."
"When will it be back?"
"Morgan Oxford sent it out in the diplomatic bag and Henry Pickering has promised to chase up the technicians at Hopkins Orthopaedic - I should have it back for the trial." The trial. Everything seemed to come back to the trial, even the running of King's Lynn and the final preparations for the opening of the lodges at Zambezi Waters could not seduce Craig away from Sally-Anne's bedside and the preparations for the trial. He was fortunate to have Hans Groenewald at King's Lynn and Peter Younghusband, the young Kenyan manager and guide whom Sally-Anne had chosen, had arrived to take over the daily running of Zambezi Waters. Though he spoke to these two every day on either telephone or radio, Craig stayed on in Harare close to Sally-Anne.
Craig's leg arrived back the day before Sally-Anne's discharge from hospital. He pulled up his trouser-cuff to show it to her.
"Straightened, panel-beaten, lubricated and thoroughly reconditioned," he boasted. "How's your head?"
"The same as your leg," she laughed. "Although the doctors have warned me off bouncing on it again for at least the next few weeks." She was using a cane for her ankle, and her chest was still strapped when he carried her bag down to the Land, Rover the following morning.
"Ribs hurting?" He saw her wince as she climbed into the vehicle.
"As long as nobody squeezes them, I'll pull through."
"No squeezing. Is that a rule?" he asked.
"I guess-" she paused and regarded him for a moment before she lowered her eyes and murmured demurely, "but then rules are for fools, and for the guidance of wise men." And Craig was considerably heartened.
umber Two Court of the Mashonaland division of the Supreme Court of the Republic of Zimbabwe still retained all the trappings of British justice.
The elevated bench with the coat of arms of Zimbabwe above the judge's seat dominated the courtroom; the tiers of oaken benches faced it, and the witness box and the dock were set on either hand. The prosecutors, the asses, sors and the attorneys charged with the defence wore long black robes, while the judpe was splendid in scarlet. Only the colour of the faces had changed, their blackness accentuated by the tight snowy curls of their wigs and the starched white swallow-tail collars.
The courtroom was packed, and when the standing room at the back was filled, the ushers closed the doors, leaving the crowd overflowing into the passages beyond.
The crowds were orderly and grave, almost all of them Matabele who had made the long bus journey across the Country from Matabeleland, many of them wearing the rosettes of the ZAPU party. Only when the accused was led into the dock was there a stir and murmur, and at the man dressed in ZAFU colours rear of the court a black wa cried hysterically "Bayete, Nkosi Nkulu!" and gave the clenched-fist salute.
r out The guards seized her immediately and hustled he through the doors. Tungata Zebiwe stood in the dock and watched impassively, by his sheer presence belittling every other person in the room. Even the judge, Mr. justice Domashawa, a tall, emaciated Mashona, with a delicately bridged atypical Egyptian nose and small, bright, birdlike eyes, although vested in all the authority of his scarlet robes, seemed ordinary in comparison. However, Mr. Justice Domashawa had a formidable reputation, and the prosecutor had rejoiced in his selection when he told Craig and SallyAxme of it.
"Oh, he is indeed persona grato and now it is very much in grentio legis, we will see justice done, never fear." While the country had still been Rhodesia, the British jury system had been abandoned. "The judge would reach a verdict with the assistance of the two black-robed assessors who sat with him on the bench. Both these assessors were Shana: one was an expert on wildlife conservation, and the other a senior magistrate. The judge could call upon but the final verdict their expert advice if he so wished would be his alone.
Now he settled his robes around him, the way an ostrich shakes out its feathers as it settles on the nest, and he fixed Tungata Zebiwe with his bright dark eyes while the clerk the charge sheet in English.
of the court read out There were eight main charges- dealing in and exporting the products of scheduled wild animals, abducting and holding a hostage, assault with a deadly weapon, assault with intent to do grievous bodily harm, attempted murder, violently resisting arrest, theft of a motor vehicle, and erty. There were also twelve malicious damage to state prop lesser charges.
By God," Craig whispered to Sally-Anne, "they are throwing the bricks from the walls at him."
"And the tiles off the floor," she agreed. "Good for them, I'd love to see the bastard swing."
"Sorry, my dear, none of them are capital charges." And yet all through the prosecution's opening address, Craig was overcome by a sense of almost Grecian tragedy, in which an heroic figure was surrounded and brought low by lesser, meaner men.
Despite his feelings, Craig was aware that Abel Khori was doing a good businesslike job of laying out his case in his opening address, even displaying restraint in his use of Latin maxims. The first of a long list of prosecution witnesses was General Peter Fungabera. Resplendent in full dress, he took the oath and stood straight-backed and martial with his swagger-stick held loosely in one hand.
His testimony was given without equivocation, so direct and impressive that the judge nodded his approval from time to time as he made his notes.
The Central Committee of the ZAPU party had briefed a London barrister for the defence, but even Mr. Joseph Petal QC could not shake General Fungabera and very soon realized the futility of the effort, so he retired to wait for more vulnerable prey.
