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Added: Aug 16
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Two Worlds - Season 1 - Episode 58
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Source: olaxali
“It’s a pistol, a Glock,” Richard said. “It’s registered. I bought it in Los Angeles.”
The lawyer’s face grew thinner, fixed on the table. “The ballistics result will be out in a week.”
His words rewound in Richard’s head. In a week, he would become a criminal, charged with attempted murder. “So what can be done?”
The lawyer remained mute. His lips, although not moving, had words written on them, sharp and clear words of prayer and hope. Those were the only things that could save him.

“What about the phone-call evidence, how far can you go with that?” Richard asked.
“We need more than Ivie’s phone call evidence to prove your innocence, and it won’t take time before the police find something to counter that. If your wife could admit guilty, you’d be a free man, but if she doesn’t, then we’d have work to do. If the victim survives, there might be a chance he would point out who shot him, but that chance is very thin. If he does that, he would risk being exposed of the crime deal he supposedly engaged in, and that could lead to a term in jail. No one likes jail.”
Richard passed his palms over his head and rested them behind the head. “I never saw this.”

“You took a very big risk going to the crime scene. You should have stayed at home and let the police to handle it.”
That’s true, so true. He should have stayed at home. Going to the scene wasn’t the wisest decision.
“Who is Ivie to you?”
“She’s a friend, lived in my house for a short time.”
“Right now she’s our only witness. I wish we could have more. Your preliminary hearing is next week Thursday. That will determine if the case is strong enough to go to trial. In the preliminary, we talk less and listen to what the State has against us.”


“What’s the essence? When the bullet matches my gun, I will be found guilty, won’t I? Beyond a reasonable doubt.”
“You are not so sure the gun belongs to you. You peered through a scope.”
“I can recognize any of my firearms with closed eyes.”

The lawyer patted Richard’s hand. “You’re not guilty, and I will prove it to the judge.”

What if you can’t? Richard wanted to ask. He bored into the lawyer. “Please do.”
After some seconds of silence, the lawyer said, “Prepare yourself for the preliminary hearing. It’s only for few minutes. Magistrates don’t waste time on it.”
“I thought the judge would be the one on bench.”

“The judge will only hear the trial, if there will be one.”

Yes, there would be one. “Can you speed up the whole trial process?”
“I’m doing my best. Some inmates wait for more than years before they are tried. You’re lucky because of your status. Your trial might tread a fast lane.”
Nothing was lucky about that. If his status was so important to the state, they should see the believability in his words.
“Do you think the magistrate would grant bail?”

“Bail is seldom granted in attempted murder cases. I’ve not heard of any. I’ll request though. The magistrate might see reasons to grant.”

The lawyer opened his briefcase and brought out a sheet and a pen. He gave them to Richard. Richard read the sheet. It was his fees. Nine hundred thousand. He was the CEO of Erneto Aives; any lawyer would want to take advantage.
“Nine hundred is too expensive.”
“Your case is expensive, and I don’t believe you would want to stay in here for years. Some people have been awaiting trial for over a decade. Your status alone won’t be enough to speed up your trial process to less than a year. I would have to give some money to the right people. Call it anything, but it’s something that has to be done.”
Richard held the pen and signed, signed to money going into thin air.
“You could bargain for a better cell. They have good cells for able prisoners, especially those in remand. It’s expensive. I think about four thousand naira per day.”
“I have bargained. I will be taken to the new cell tomorrow. But still, it’s a cell, no matter how refined it is.”

The lawyer arranged his sheet in his briefcase and closed it. “I’ll come see you again early next week.” He stood up and strode out.

Richard stalked out of the room and met the warder who directed him to his cell. He thought of the lawyer’s words. There was no hope of cutting short the days in this hellhole. Either he or his wife would have a place in it. He was not willing, and his wife certainly was not. No one liked jail. It smelt like decayed debris.

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