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When he did, he quickly let go and cleared his throat. “I was waiting and when you didn’t show…”
“No, that’s okay,” she said as she felt the blush rising in her face. “I lost track of the time. Let’s go,” she told him and quickly walked off.
There was a deafening silence all the way down to the basement. “Oh,” she said and turned to him with a wild look in her eyes as if she had lost something. “I think I would rather use my car, if that’s okay with you.”
“Where is your car?” he asked, and she could tell he was already uncomfortable with the idea.
“It’s over here,” she told him and walked off. She squeezed her alarm button, and her car made a beeping sound just as the lights flashed. He seemed astonished that it was a Volvo, and with less reproach, he followed her inside. She kept her eyes trained on the road as she made her way to the police precinct. From the corner of her eyes she could see Al-Hafeez gazing outside, seemingly unconcerned about his current predicament. As soon as she pulled into the parking lot of the station, he instantly opened the door and got out. He then proceeded to button his black coat before standing aside to wait on her.
“Follow me,” Jameela said and cleared her throat. She was not sure how saving Al-Hafeez from the bowels of prison would count as victory. Her feelings of anger escalated to boiling point each time she was around him, yet she kept being pulled in by his aloofness and odd charm. She suspected there was more to the man than he was showing her, but that was not something she could focus on at the moment.
“Miss Harding,” the prosecutor said as they entered the precinct. He was a tall man, and very well established. She knew little about the man, but not enough apparently; she would have never pegged him as the kind of man who would take on a case of this kind. But then, she had never admired prosecutors, which was ironic at the moment considering she was defending a man she thought should be punished.
“Mr. Malinga,” she replied and nodded. Then she turned to look at Al-Hafeez, but he was just standing there and looking out of place. She walked off and she heard his footsteps close to her. The man led them to the investigation room, where they were offered seats across from the prosecutor.
He sat down and promptly shoved a file before Jameela. She looked at him curiously, and then flipped the cover open. It revealed the image of the knife that was used to kill Manseh. “Do you recognize that instrument?” the man asked Al-Hafeez.
“Is this some sort of joke?” Al-Hafeez asked.
“Just answer the question,” the man replied coldly, and locked his fingers on the hard surface of the desk.
“What is this?” Jameela asked.
“This is the weapon that was found at the scene of the crime,” Mr. Malinga told her. “As we now know it belongs to your client. I was just wondering if he had the balls to admit he recognizes it.”
“This is ridiculous,” Al-Hafeez shouted. “Everyone knows that knife is mine. How many times have my family been seen boasting it in public? It’s one of our most prized possessions.”
“And currently the murder weapon,” the man said dryly.
“Come on!” Al-Hafeez said angrily. “Do you think I would stab someone with that knife?”
“Are you saying you would stab a man with a different knife?” Mr. Malinga persisted.
“No, I didn’t say that. I was simply saying that’s not a knife that should be used for that intent.”
“Did you want Manseh dead?” the prosecutor threw at him.
“If I…” The words ended there as Al-Hafeez slammed his hand down on the desk. Both Jameela and Mr. Malinga jumped when he did. “I did not kill that man!”
“That’s what they all say,” Mr. Malinga told him. “All of you rich men think you can do as you like without consequence. Well this time, I am going to nail you to the wall!”
The entire time Jameela was there she just listened. And she was content with that too, but she knew herself too well to just sit there and listen to the prosecution bashing her client. Furthermore, her instinct told her he was not guilty. Not of this crime, at least.
“Okay, that’s enough Malinga,” she told the man. “So, the weapon was at the crime scene and it belongs to my client. Is that all you’ve got?”
“He has opportunity, motive and a murder weapon. I think I have a little more than you are willing to admit.”
“What you have is knowledge everyone else does. Sure he had a debt he owed; who didn’t? The man was a bookie and a gambler. I am sure he has plenty of people who are rejoicing now at his death. You have opportunity? Is that more or less opportunity than any other person who wanted to kill him? It was just circumstantial that his office is close to where the body was found, and even more so that his possession was found on the scene. Did it ever occur to you that my client is being framed for a murder that he didn’t commit simply because so many people want to see him pay because he is wealthy?” She leaned back in her chair and stared the man dead in the face after she had spoken.
“It is for you to prove Miss Harding, that he isn’t guilty of the crime he is accused of. I can only present the evidence.” Mr. Malinga smiled as he and Jameela continued their legal battle of will.
“Tell me something, do you have my client at the scene of the crime?” She waited for him to answer.
“Well, no, but…” he began to reply before she cut him off.
“Is it possible that the man who went to murder your client’s brother did so of his own volition?” she asked.
“If he was acting under the advice of Mr. Ramadan…”
