Bab’s New Year’s Resolution 100

© Beverly Taff.

Lola Smith Bab’s adopted trans daughter.
Callista Denton (Callie). Transgendered Duchess of Denton.
Margaret Denton (Maggie). Callie’s wife.
Molly Denton Callie’s grandmother
Ellie Denton Callie’s mother.
Bab’s Barbara Smith. Lola’s adoptive ‘Nana’
Olivia Smith Bab’s adopted daughter. Lesbian black artist
Angela Smith Bab’s adopted daughter Olivia’s lover
Erica Bab’s foster daughter.
Sergeant Bridie Davies Lady Police detective protecting the girls.
Sergeant Brian Davies. Bridie’s twin brother.
Inspector John, Heading up the anti-rape-gang operation.
Gareth Jenkins, Police office trained in firearms and protection.
Belinda Harrington Lola’s university girlfriend.
Aaron Talbot Surgical registrar – married to –
Shirley Talbot Lecturer at Local university.
Mickey Talbot Aaron and Shirley’s oldest son.
Jessica Talbot Aaron & Shirley’s middle daughter.
Bianca Talbot Aaron & Shirley’s youngest daughter.
Henry Denton Callie’s only son.
Charlotte Denton Callie’s only daughter.
Beverly Callie’s maternal great aunt (Ellie’s paternal aunt)
Wendy Smith Beverly’s Operations Manager for Hull
Louisa Wendy’s Daughter
Griselda & Mia Wendy’s younger twin daughters.
Susan Harvey Prosecution counsel advocating for Erica.
Han’s The policeman’s son Erica fancies
Uncle Phillip CIA Agent.
Emily Jackson. Texan girl Kidnapped to Holland & Turkey
Sandra Jackson Sister to Emily kidnapped in Texas as a hostage.
Eddie Emily’s Tandem surfing partner.
Chapter 100.

The following morning when the girls met the lawyers Olivia immediately noticed the prosecution counsel’s tight smile of victory.

“You seem happy.” Olivia opined.

“Have you seen this?” The lawyer replied as she handed Olivia one of several photocopies.

“Of course I’ve seen it. I drew it.”

“You might be asked to demonstrate your skills for the benefit of the court.”

“I Did that during the last trial. Why do they need me to do it again?”

“Different trial, different jury, different judge.”

“Ah well. If it proves a point, I suppose I’ll have to do it.”

“Try doing that trick with your signature again. You know; the letters of your name resembling a cartoon of the judge. Nothing offensive just like the last one you did.”

“Aaah! You’re not getting me to try bribing the judge or something! Are you?”

“Nothing of the sort. It will just show that there’s a gentler, comedic side to your personality as well as a foul-mouthed street nigger.”

“YOU CAN'T CALL ME THAT!!” Olivia almost screeched.

“I’m afraid THEY can; - here in Texas - that is. The right wing use the hypothesis that free speech allows you to say anything. I only used the word to demonstrate the degree of prejudice you’re up against. I meant no offence.”

“Well it is offensive!” Olivia snapped back.

“I know perfectly well how offensive it is but as I said; it will show you what we’re up against. Make your signature quite large so that it’s obvious to the jury. That signature trick is a real thing because it better connects any purchaser to your art and it’s a real skill. Sorry about the ‘N’ word but you’ll understand, I’m sure.”

This gentle compliment calmed Olivia down and while they sat at the table discussing legal arguments before going into court, Olivia quietly practiced a monogram that perfectly lampooned the judge. All the lawyers had to smile when they viewed the final image.

“I hope she’s got a sense of humour,” Lola remarked.

Soon the call bell sounded and they trooped into the courtroom to take their now familiar seats. Next the accused were led in and finally they rose for the judge.

“Have you got the other part of the drawing?” The judge asked..

The prosecution counsel confirmed and passed many copies around the court and to the jurors. The Sheriff immediately drew a sharp intake of breath as he studied the image of the arm with the missing, torn off hand.

“That’s “Pedro el Carnicero, well it’s his arm.”

“How d’ you know.” The judge demanded.

“I arrested the man. He’s sitting there in the box. We know him as Peter the Butcher. He’s got the same scar on his upper arm. Make him expose his arm. He’s charged with being an enforcer for the traffickers. We believe he’s killed some of the girls as well. Usually once they are no longer any use.”

The judge motioned to the prisoner and ordered him to reveal his arm. The prisoner was at first reluctant then capitulated as two hefty guards approached him. There for all to see was a scar exactly resembling the scar in the drawing. The judge turned to Olivia.

“Is this part of the drawing from memory as well.”

“Only partly.”

“I saw the scar in Nottingham England when their enforcer was intimidating the girls. I only drew it months later when we escaped from the gang’s clutches. It looked like a typical wound with a blade and men were always fighting with swords in the Shakespeare’s play so I incorporated the idea of a sword fight wound as I saw it on the arm of the man in Nottingham. I didn’t realised it was him, Peter the Butcher.

I thought Romeo would very likely have wounds from sword-play so I drew it on the arm for effect.”
Romeo had fought with Tybalt earlier in the play.

As Olivia explained to the court, the police officers were checking their records and the sheriff turned again to the judge.

“This man was extradited from England about a year ago. He’s been in custody awaiting this trial.”

“Is this information additional evidence.”

“Yes, you honour but for us, it just corroborates the current charges and extends the time he was in England. That extension puts him in England when some female bodies were discovered with ritualised scarring synonymous with Mexican cartel slayings. The English police would be very interested.”

The judge shook her head before muttering to herself that the case kept getting more and more complex. She turned again to Olivia.

“The man’s face in your drawing does not look like the accused Pedro el Carnicero.”

“No your honour. It’s the face of young man I imagined to be fourteen or fifteen. It’s supposed to be Romeo Montague. He had a sword fight with somebody called Tybalt so I drew the scar on the arm to show that Romeo had been wounded. Like I said, the drawing is an imaginary scene of Romeo and Juliet together, naked.”

“And you say your drew this?”

“Yes your honour.”

“Well I’m no expert, but I showed a copy of the first part of the drawing to an art expert friend of mine last night and he says it some of the best he’s ever seen. As good as Leonardo’s cartoons. He doubted a fourteen-year-old could produce this.”

“I produced drawings for the last trial your honour.”

“Could you repeat this?”

“Yes.” Olivia assured her.

“Go on then.”

“What? Here, now?”

“Yes. There’ll be no doubts then.”

“Okay. Can I have some paper and pencils please?”

“Some paper was readily supplied but there was a slight delay before suitable, soft pencils were located. Eventually, Olivia stood an easel in the witness box and turned her back to the judge and jury so they could see her actually drawing. As if by magic she produced an almost identical picture from memory then, for her own amusement, she signed it off with her personalised cartoon of the judge comprised of the letters in Olivia’s name.

Her action brought a titter from the court and even the judge smiled as she recognised herself in the signature.

“That is very clever young lady. When this case is over, I’ll keep that picture and reserve photocopies for the court record.”

“If you’re keeping the original, that will make it art, and you’ll have to pay me your honour. I’ve already sold other portraits with personalised monikers on them.”

“That’s very presumptuous young lady.”

“I don’t do them for free your honour. The days of slavery are over, even in Texas.”

“That’s quite enough of that young lady. You’ll get paid.”

With those words, the judge banged her gavel and recalled the court to order. Olivia gave her evidence and by the following noon, she had completed her story. Just like Lola, she was shattered when she stepped down. In the special canteen set aside for the witnesses and lawyers Olivia was congratulated. The sheriff who had arrested Pedro el Carnicero approached the coffee machine just as Olivia was getting another cup of coffee from the percolator.

“I’d like to personally thank you Olivia. You’ve doubled our chances of securing a death penalty for Peter the Butcher.”

“My pleasure Sheriff. I’d like to see him swing just for what he did to the girls. I’m sure he killed more than the one but I couldn’t swear on oath.”

“He won’t swing , it’ll be the chair or lethal injection. We’ve got proof he killed some in Mexico as well as Texas. I believe your friend Erica has an even worse story.”

“She does. They’re gonna have to go easy on her though. She pretends to be keeping it together; but she's still in pieces.”

“Don’t worry. The judge is fully up to date with her case. She’ll stop any stuff that’s too cruel.”

Olivia returned to their table as the sheriff smiled his reassurance then turned to his deputies.

“What did the sheriff want?” Lola asked for the girls as Olivia returned.

“He told me that Erica’s up next on the witness stand and the judge knows about her issues.”

“Whadd’ya mean issues?” Erica challenged. “I don’t have any issues, - now!”

Olivia grinned.

“I know that; you know that, but the court thinks you have. Come on Erica, you’ve been through shit and back. Even Nelson turned a blind eye when it suited him. Lay it on thick when it gets iffy.”

“Oh! Yeah! Okay, gott’ ya.”

Erica turned to see her counsel nodding slowly.

“Just what I was about to suggest girl. Ollie’s right.”

For the rest of the break Erica went through her case with their counsel and when the session bell rang for the return to the court, she felt a lot more confident.

By now the girls had seen their friends perform well in the witness box and Erica’s point of view was ‘fore-warned is fore-armed. She’d been through the guts of her experiences in the first court case in England.

Firstly, she and the prosecution counsel went through the events of the previous two years in some detail. So much so that the judge became concerned and stopped proceedings to check that Erica was okay.

“I’m okay your honour, I’ve been through a lot of this before, in England.”

“Quite young lady, and you are to be applauded for your resilience. If you need to stop or take a break, don’t hesitate to ask.”

This was a clear message to the defence counsel to go easy when Erica was cross examined. The judge nodded to the prosecution counsel and they continued with Erica’s harrowing narrative. Several times, the prosecution counsel saw some of the lady jurors wince at some particularly nasty incident or circumstance and she turned to give Erica a tight-lipped smile of encouragement. Their secret signals and expressions served to strengthen Erica at every turn and stiffen her resolve. At four pm, the court adjourned and the prosecutor accompanied Erica to their APC (Armoured personnel carrier.)

“It’s going well girl. Well done.” Her lawyer opined.

“It bloody should do!” Erica retorted. “There’s enough evidence to sink a super tanker.”

“True.” The counsel agreed. “It has been one of my more enjoyable cases, almost too much evidence at times.”

“Yeah. I noticed the god father seemed to be getting twitchy.”

“We’ll get to him tomorrow morning. Are you happy to face him tomorrow?”

“You bet I am! What about you Sarah?” Erica turned to the older Texan girl who had been trafficked to Amsterdam where they had first met.”

“I am now girl. You’re one feisty ‘gurl’ so together we’ll get the son-of-a-bitch.”

“We’re putting you two up first,” the counsel advised them, “to reassure the Mexican and Guatemalan Girls that they’re not alone in this and there’s every certainty of that bastard being executed.”

“Amen to that!” Lola finished as the APC closed it’s rear doors and sped back to the fortified hotel.”

That evening as they chatted and helped the Latino girls with their English the sheriff revealed how much more of the sex-trafficking trade had been exposed.

“It’s opened up a whole can of worms and all thanks to you kids.”

“Does this mean more court-cases?” Angela wondered as she gave her girlfriend Olivia a squeeze.

“Can’t say.” The sheriff replied. “It depends on what we find and who’s indicted. We’ll have to run every suspect past you girls for visual ID’s. They all seem to have several aliases.”

“Bring it on!” Erica challenged boldly. “The more of these bastards I can take down, the better.”

The prosecution counsel looked sharply at Erica.

“I sense you’ve got other issues Erica, more than just trafficking.”

“You’d better believe it!” They had me strung out on coke and all sorts of stuff. These sex traffickers are drugs traffickers as well. I sometimes saw the stuff being delivered. So any faces you think might be connected to this case and coke trafficking, bring it on I say.”

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