Involuntary Witness Read Online Free PDF Page B

woman gave me a name that meant nothing to me – and also knew that I wasn’t one to make a fuss about money, and that in any case, to be going on with, they could give me two million, which was what they had managed to collect.
    Abajaje Deheba opened her bag, drew out a bundle of banknotes fastened with an elastic band, laid it on the desk and pushed it towards me. There was no question of my being able to refuse or discuss the
matter. I said I would get my secretary to make out a receipt for that advance. No thank you, she didn’t want a receipt, she wouldn’t know what to do with it. What she wanted was for me to go at once and see Abdou in prison.
    I told her I couldn’t do that, that Signor Thiam would have to appoint me, if only by making a declaration in the prison register. Very well, she said, she would tell him when they next spoke. She rose to her feet, held out her hand – she hadn’t done so when she came in – and looked me in the eye. “Abdou didn’t do what they say he did.”
    Her handshake was as firm as I expected it to be.
    When I opened the door I heard my secretary trying to explain to a Signora Cassano distinctly annoyed at having to wait that the Avvocato had had an emergency visit and would see her just as soon as possible.
    I could imagine my client’s thoughts when she saw Abajaje Deheba pass by, and realized that she had been made to wait on account of a nigger .
    She entered the room and gave me a look of disgust. I’m sure she would have spat in my face if she could have.
    The next day she was found guilty, and for the appeal she went to another lawyer. Naturally she didn’t pay the remainder of my fee, but maybe she had a point: I hadn’t exactly done my best to get her off.

8
    I parked the car illegally, as usual on a Friday. On visiting days you can’t find a legal space anywhere near the prison.
    Friday is visiting day.
    However, this isn’t a problem, because you are unlikely to get fined. No traffic warden is too keen on having words with relatives visiting the prisoners; as a rule, no traffic warden is too keen on being on duty at all in the prison neighbourhood.
    So I parked illegally on a pavement, climbed out of the car, straightened my tie, took a cigarette from the packet, put it in my mouth without lighting it and set off for the entrance.
    The warder at the door knew me, so I didn’t have to show my lawyer’s card.
    I went through the usual metal gates, then the gratings, then still more gates. Finally I reached the room reserved for lawyers.
    I am convinced that in all prisons they go out of their way to choose the room that is coldest in winter and hottest in summer.
    It was winter, and even though outside the air was mild, in that room, furnished with a table, two upright chairs and a broken-down armchair, there was a mortifying chill.
    Lawyers are not much loved in prisons.
    Lawyers are not much loved in general.
    While they were off fetching Abdou Thiam I lit the
cigarette and, just for something to do, rummaged in my bag and pulled out the precautionary detention order.
    Once again I read that “the impressive probative material acquired against Abdou Thiam forms a reassuring picture serving not only to justify the restraint of personal liberty at the present stage of proceedings but also, in prospect, to allow for reasonable predictions of a conviction in the forthcoming trial.”
    In plain words: Abdou was up to his neck in evidence against him, must be arrested and kept in custody, and when the trial came up would certainly be found guilty.
    While I was reading, the door opened and a warder ushered in my client.
    Abdou Thiam was a strikingly handsome man, with the face of a film star and liquid eyes. Sad and far away.
    He remained standing near the door until I went up, gave him my hand and told him I was his lawyer.
    A person’s handshake says a lot of things, if one takes the trouble to pay attention to it. Abdou’s handshake told me he didn’t trust