Babel Novel
Chapter 159
Chapter 159
The prosecutor got to the point with Alfred Cummings. “Mr Cummings, did your son visit you yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask him to testify against the law?”
Alfred glanced briefly at Mr Clark before he uttered, “No.”
“Did you ask him to testify for your case?”
“Yes, but I didn’t tell my son to lie. I’m a father. Every father’s pride is to raise his children with the highest honor and integrity.”
“You insisted that your properties were acquired by your son as gifts. Do you have proof of these transactions?”
“I’m afraid that is something I do not have. I was decluttering my home a few years back, and I must have
cleaned out the documents recording the transactions.”
“And do you have evidence transferring government funds to Helena Tanner?”
“I’m afraid not. The transfer was done discreetly so there aren’t any documents to prove it.”
“Did you hand Helena Tanner the funds through bags of cash, Mr Cummings?”
“I—” he was about to answer when Mr Clark’s look seemed to be advising him to do otherwise, so he choset o say, “I don’t recall.”
“You don’t recall?” She took one step closer and asked again, “You don’t recall how you transferred money i n the billions to Helena Tanner?”
“Yes.”
“But you recalled that your son acquired the line of properties for you when your son doesn’t recall that detail himself?”
Alfred Cummings looked enraged but he managed to say, “I don’t recall how I transferred the funds to Tanner, that’s all I’ll say about the matter.”
The prosecutor then concluded, “So, you have no proof of the transfer you purportedly made to Helena Tanner; no proof that your son bought the properties which are in your name; and no proof that you didn’t tell your son to present a false oral testimony in court. Is my understanding correct, Mr Cummings?”
The minister was boiling in rage. When Sebastian visited him the previous day, he gave that son of his very clear and simple instructions to say that Sebastian himself had purchased the properties since he eamed well as a CEO. Although they argued about it for a good twenty-five minutes, Alfred made sure he used the final five minutes to tell Sebastian how much his son owed him as a father, hence it was time to return the favor.
Sebastian didn’t have a chance to respond before the police entered to take his father back to his cell. His parting words to Sebastian was: do me proud, my boy, which normally made the son give in without question. But it was clear that those words had lost their magic ever since Sebastian regretted letting go o f the wolf he didn’t even recall meeting before she became the King’s mate.
“Mr Cummings, do you need me to repeat the question?” The prosecutor prompted.
“No.”
“No’, you don’t need me to repeat the question; or ‘No’, my understanding of your lack of proof is incorrect?”
“Both.” Cummings spat in hate.
The prosecutor matched his hard stare when she asked, “And how is my understanding incorrect?”
“Just because I can’t present evidence, it doesn’t mean there wasn’t any. They’re just no longer available.”
The prosecutor smirked at his baseless argument as she said, “I see. Thank you, Mr Cummings.”
When Judge Cook invited Mr Clark to re-examine Alfred, it was clear that nothing the defense lawyer did could mask the glaring fact that the minister had no evidentiary support to prove his assertions.
Without such evidence, there was no way he could cast reasonable doubt in the prosecution’s case against him. Without reasonable doubt, Alfred Cummings would be found guilty and sentenced in accordance with the law. Mr Clark explained all of this to his client privately. 1
His advice? Plead guilty in hopes of a lighter sentence. And what did the minister have to say about this advice? “Let’s wait and see what the others say.”
Mr Clark then warned Cummings that the later he pleaded guilty, the less likely the court would grant him a lighter sentence.
Of course, Cummings would rather pray for that illusionary light at the end of the long, dark tunnel than to seal his own faith prematurely by being the first minister among the four, and the first minister in the Kingdom’s history, to plead guilty to corruption charges.
After lunch, the court resumed trial, calling Marie Martin to the stand. As soon as she sat, her fingers ran nervously through her light brown pixie hair, which she had already checked three times in the mirror
when she was getting ready. Her back straightened to project as much confidence as she could. 1
However, the fear behind her lilac eyes couldn’t be covered by those long eyelashes, nor could it be overshadowed by the dark circles underneath her eyes. If she wasn’t horrified right now, there would have been something wrong with her. As the Finance Minister, as someone who has direct access to government funds, she had so many bribery offers over the years that she lost count.
Her charges were a little different from her three other colleagues who were charged. For some reason, the prosecution decided to exercise some ‘due diligence’ and dug deeper into her affairs and… business deals’. They found that she received bribes from construction companies who wanted government projects.
Marie’s most daring deal was with regards to the construction of low-cost apartments for the middle class Lycan community. This project cost the government six million dollars, of which twenty percent went into her own pockets. The prosecution, with the court’s permission, added this to the charges against her.
Things clearly looked worse for Marie Martin than it did for the other three ministers. The only comfort she got before taking the stand was the fact that one of her two sons, Henry Martin, now seated at the front row on the other side of the aisle from the royals, told her that she looked ‘presentable and responsible’ in the pastel pink blouse and black coat and pants she chose to wear for the trial.
When Henry told his mother that his brother, Herbert, had been charged and arrested together with that
gold-digging, connections-dependent girlfriend of his, all because they played a little joke on the Duke and Sir Weaver, Marie was furious!
‘As if the Duke and King themselves didn’t pull harmless pranks when they were younger’, she thought to herself. And then there was that wolf, who had been speaking to Lycans like she owned all of them, throwing insults and shaming anyone and everyone she wanted to. 3
All she had to do was gaze at the King with those fake innocent eyes, and even the King is rendered blind and useless. This never happened with the late King Lucas. He never allowed Queen Vera to speak as she pleased, and look how wonderful and prosperous their reign was!
None of the nonsense of having to provide aid for rogue attacks’ or ‘include them in government decisions !. It is disgraceful to see how low King Alexandar had chosen to stoop for a creature of the inferior species.
Thank Goddess the late King and Queen had passed, otherwise they’d be heartbroken. All their work and contributions were destroyed by an insignificant wolf and a spineless son, a son who failed to uphold and defend the superiority of Lycans!
Unknowingly, Marie Martin started throwing a death glare at Lucianne until Judge Cook prompted, “Is there an issue, Ms Martin?”
She averted her eyes from the future Queen immediately as she stuttered, “N-No, my Lord.” So much for wanting to project confidence.
“Good. The prosecution may begin her questioning.” Judge Cook ordered. Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.
“Thank you, my Lord.” The prosecutor walked up to the witness stand, and began, “Ms Martin, in your tenure as Finance Minister, have you ever channeled government funds to your personal bank account?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Just because I had the opportunity as Finance Minister, it doesn’t mean I did it.”
“Then, why does this document I have in my hand here say differently?”
“That could be fabricated for all we know. It took so long for i-”
“Perhaps Mi Clark had not informed you, Ms Martin, that this has been authenticated.”
“I can prove that it’s fake. I have the real one here.” Her words even made her own lawyer’s eyes widen in surprise. Mr Clark shot up from his seat when Martin handed a folded sheet of paper to Judge Cook, and Clark stood nervously next to the prosecutor, who was in front of the judge to await his decision.
As the judge skimmed through the paper, he asked, “Why wasn’t this presented earlier, Ms Martin?”
“I’m afraid it wasn’t available until very recently, my Lord. The Head of the National Audit Department, Helena Tanner, handles the auditing of my affairs, and with her disappearance, it was difficult to get someone to access the real audits until this morning.”
“This morning?” Judge Cook asked in suspicion.
Marie smiled like how she practiced in the mirror the previous day and in the morning as she said, “Yes, judge. The person who assisted me faced great difficulty in accessing the document. I apologize for the delay.”
“The person who assisted you, what’s the name?” Judge Cook asked.
Marie prepared this as well, so she answered with ease, “Belle Price, judge.”