Blood Gold in the Congo

by Peter Ralph

  “No,” Gizenga replied, but his arrogance had vanished.

  “Are you on the payroll of the New Dawn Gold Mining Company or Liberty Investments? Is the rent inflated to pay for you to provide the services of the army when requested?”

  “No, no.”

  “You do realize the penalty for perjury.” Lidy smirked but, before Gizenga could reply, said, “Withdrawn.”

  For the next three days, Banze called the soldier defendants and painstakingly took them through their testimonies. On cross-examination, Lidy attacked furiously in a futile attempt to break them down.

  First thing on Friday, the tenth and what was expected to be the last day of the trial, Banze told Marc Boucher he wouldn’t be in the witness box for long and that, immediately after cross-examination, the court would hear closing arguments.

  Boucher explained in great detail how the rebels had attacked the mine and disarmed the guards. Fortunately, there were two helicopters at the mine site and another two in Kilwa. Boucher said he feared for the lives of his staff and hastily made the decision to evacuate.

  When he returned with the soldiers, the mine was in the hands of the rebels. Colonel Gizenga had tried megaphone diplomacy and sought their surrender. They had responded by opening fire on the soldiers, and a fierce battle had ensued.

  He had not traveled with the soldiers after they had chased the rebels from the mine and had no idea what had occurred at the village.

  Banze thanked Boucher for his testimony, which had taken less than thirty minutes.

  Lidy was quickly on his feet, armed with the information Joseph had given him.

  “Mr. Boucher, are you wanted in South Africa for the manslaughter of twenty-one miners?”

  “Objection,” Banze shouted. “Relevance?”

  “It goes to the character of the witness, Your Honors.”

  “I’ll allow it,” the chief judge said.

  “Well, Mr. Boucher?”

  “Yes, but the charges were trumped up.”

  “Really? If they’re trumped up, why have you strenuously resisted extradition proceedings? Why not go back and clear your name?”

  “I intend to, just as soon as I get some time.”

  “Are you saying the South African police and courts have to wait until you can fit them in?” Lidy laughed. “Are you serious, Mr. Boucher? Would you insult this court in the same manner?”

  Lidy’s questions struck a nerve with the judges, and they craned their necks, waiting for a response.

  “I am innocent of all charges,” Boucher replied, “and the courts here agree. They have rejected both applications for extradition.”

  “Weren’t those rejections made because of technicalities? The courts here have said nothing about your innocence or guilt. Isn’t what you just said a lie?”

  “Objection!” Banze screamed. “Badgering the witness.”

  “Sit down, Counsel,” the lead judge said. “I want to hear this.”

  “I-I might ha-have got my wor-words wrong. I-I’m not a lawyer. I think that’s what they told me.”

  “Is that so?” Lidy asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Tell me how you managed your escape. You said the supposed rebels took over the mine.”

  “There was nothing supposed about them,” Boucher said, with a touch of his earlier arrogance. “I got a call from the guards at the front gate and moved immediately.”

  “You ran as fast as you could?”

  “You might smirk, but I had the safety of my employees to think of.”

  “Oh, I see. Just like your South African employees?”

  “Objection. Objection!”

  “Withdrawn.” Lidy grinned.

  For the next two hours, Lidy hammered Boucher with questions about whether the soldiers were on New Dawn’s payroll and why he had provided them with the helicopters and trucks. Boucher responded by saying he had acted intuitively and, given the same situation in the future, he would act in an identical manner.

  The lead judge, who was continually looking at his watch, said, “Are you nearly finished, Counsel?”

  “Not even close, Your Honor,” Lidy cheerfully responded.

  The judge frowned. “Very well, continue.”

  “I put it to you there were no rebels. The soldiers did not get fired on, and you witnessed the slaughter of more than ten workers in a ditch no farther than four hundred yards from your office.”

  “No, no,” Boucher shouted, his mustache bristling. “We were under attack. I saw no one slaughtered.”

  “Then how do you account for the bodies in the ditch?”

  “I can’t. When we returned, I was in my office with the door locked. Perhaps they were the bodies of rebels killed in the fighting, and the soldiers dragged them to a communal grave.” Boucher smirked, at the cleverness of his answer.

  Gizenga looked over at Boucher and gave him the thumbs up.

  “Why does Liberty Investments pay a rental premium to lease offices from Colonel Gizenga?” Lidy abruptly asked, hoping to catch Boucher off guard.

  “I’m glad you asked.” Boucher smiled. “The colonel tries to help impoverished youth by taking them off the streets and meeting with them. He tries to point them in the right direction. Liberty Investments pays a little more rent to help out. Our owners like to contribute to the community.”

  Joseph grimaced. Boucher had known the question was coming and had come up with a pat answer.

  “Did New Dawn or Liberty Investments transfer monies into an offshore account of Colonel Gizenga or any company or trust associated with him?”

  “No,” Boucher confidently responded.

  It was nearly five o’clock when Lidy asked, “Mr. Boucher, who owns the shares in Liberty Investments?”

  “I have no idea. It’s an investment company. I don’t know who owns them.”

  “All right, who is your boss?”

  “I don’t understand. I run the mine. I am solely in charge.”

  “Yes, but we all have bosses. You don’t own the company. You’re not a director. You have someone to whom you report. Who is it?”

  Boucher visibly squirmed and looked over at Banze, who leaped to his feet. “Objection. Relevance,” he shouted.

  “Your Honors, I am trying to establish whether the witness was acting on the instructions of others.”

  Before the judge could respond, Boucher said, “All decisions were mine and mine alone.”

  “Really? Didn’t you communicate with your boss and seek instructions from him? Didn’t you receive an email instructing you to let the army solve the problem? I remind you, you’re under oath,” Lidy said, looking down at his legal pad.

  Boucher’s face collapsed. “I-I don’t know wha-what you’re talk-talking about.”

  “Please tell the court who your boss is,” Lidy said as he picked up his legal pad and strode toward the witness box.

  Boucher seemed to lose his balance and almost fell.

  “The witness is exhausted, Your Honors,” Banze said.

  “Can you go on, Mr. Boucher? How do you feel?” the lead judge asked.

  “I feel dizzy, Your Honor. I’m not well.”

  “Can we adjourn until Monday, Your Honor?” Banze asked.

  “Yes,” the lead judge responded. “I hope you recover over the weekend, Mr. Boucher.”

  As Joseph and Lidy walked down the steps, the crowd in front of them started chanting, “Muamba, Muamba, Muamba,” as they had every day at the close of proceedings.

  “You’re well-liked enough to be president,” Lidy said.

  “I don’t know why. Mr. Lidy, you shook Boucher up. He nearly had a coronary when you asked him who his boss was. He faked his collapse to get out of the witness box. He has no idea what you have on him. He’s probably asking Banze right now what lies he can get away with telling. I can’t wait until Monday.”

  “The judges gave me some latitude today. They don’t like his arrogant manner, and he did say he made all decisions himself. I’d love
to produce those emails.”

  “You can’t. It’ll tip whoever Thibault is off, and we may never find out who he is.”

  “We’ll find out on Monday, Joseph, when Boucher tells us who his boss is. If he doesn’t, I’ll demand the court send him to prison for contempt.”

  CHAPTER 33

  ..................

  JUST BEFORE TEN O’CLOCK ON Monday morning, Joseph entered the courtroom, with Bennett and Kronk on either side of him, and searched in vain for Lidy. As they approached the prosecution table, counsel assisting Lidy rose and said, “I am sorry to inform the court that thieves broke into Mr. Lidy’s house on the weekend. Unfortunately, when he disturbed them, they brutally assaulted him. I have just been informed that he has just come out of a coma but is still in a bad way. He has broken ribs, a punctured lung, and several facial fractures. He will be in the hospital for many weeks.”

  Gizenga was grinning at someone in the gallery. When Joseph turned around, he saw Donatien nodding his head. Boucher was in the witness box patting his mustache and didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

  “That is terrible,” the senior judge said. “When you see Mr. Lidy, please convey our best wishes for a speedy recovery. Have the police caught the culprits?”

  “Thank you, Your Honor. No, there have been no arrests made, but the police are confident there will be.”

  “Let’s hope so, Counsel. Are you prepared to continue cross-examination?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, I have no further questions for this witness.”

  “What?” Joseph said, quite loudly from behind the assistant prosecutor. “Of course you do. Ask him who his boss is.”

  Bennett tugged on Joseph’s sleeve and said, “Shut up!”

  The senior judge rapped his gavel on the bench. “Silence, silence in the court. Another outburst like that and I’ll remove you from the court. Counsel, please confirm you have concluded your cross-examination.”

  “I have, Your Honor.”

  “Thank you, Counsel. The witness is excused,” the judge said. “Are you ready to make your final submission, Counsel?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  A smiling Marc Boucher departed the witness box.

  The assistant prosecutor’s final argument was concise and well-put-together, but it lacked Lidy’s passion and fire. Just before one o’clock, the court recessed, the senior judge saying that the court would hear the defense’s final argument after lunch. Joseph tugged on the assistant’s sleeve on the way out, saying, “Why didn’t you continue cross-examining Boucher?”

  “The information you were seeking had nothing to do with the trial. It was for your personal use. I had no further questions.”

  “Your boss would have. You let him down. You let me down. Why?”

  As they reached the corridor, the assistant turned abruptly and stared at Joseph. “I have a wife and four young children. You should see what they did to poor Mr. Lidy. He’s lucky to be alive,” he said, pausing. “Or perhaps he’s unlucky to be alive.”

  “It was Donatien?”

  “You saw them laughing in court.”

  “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry,” Joseph said. “I will visit Mr. Lidy before I leave.”

  “I told my wife and kids about you. I had such high hopes. I said you would change things for the better. I was wrong. You are no match for them. They’re having lunch now, laughing at you. All the defendants are going to be acquitted, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “Perhaps in this court, but not in The Hague or the International Criminal Court. If they’re acquitted, we’ll appeal.”

  Lidy’s assistant shook his head and smiled mirthlessly. “Do you know what double jeopardy is?”

  Joseph frowned, putting his hand to his chin, and then it dawned on him. “No, no, it can’t be!”

  “But it is. If they’re acquitted, which they will be, they can’t be tried for the same offenses in any other court. It was a setup right from the time the president allowed the trial to proceed. In America, criminals pay the most expensive lawyers in the hope of getting off. In the Congo, criminals pay judges, knowing they’ll get off. O.J Simpson’s famed lawyer, Johnnie Cochran, would have struggled to get a conviction in this court.”

  “So it’s over?”

  “I thought that it was over from the first day. However, you provided Mr. Lidy with a glimmer of hope, but that was all it was, a faint glimmer.”

  An hour later, the court reconvened, and Paul Banze delivered a scathing final argument saying that the prosecution had failed dismally and its star witness, Joseph Muamba, had proven to be an unmitigated liar. Just before four o’clock, Banze completed his submission. Joseph thought the court would adjourn and hand down judgment in the morning. Instead, the three judges put their heads together, and then the senior judge said they were ready to deliver judgment.

  For the next hour, the senior judge summarized the case, saying the court had been able to attach little credibility to the testimony of witnesses Muamba and Kyenge. They had not been forthright, had been evasive with their answers, and in many instances had not been believable. He further said the court would make a recommendation to the Ministry of Justice to examine the evidence given by witness Muamba to ascertain whether he’d committed perjury. In direct contrast, the witnesses for the defense, particularly Colonel Gizenga and Mr. Boucher, had been transparent and open and had not sought to evade any questions. As a result, the prosecution’s case was weak, and it was impossible for the court to find any of the defendants guilty.

  Just after 5:00 p.m. the senior judge asked the defendants to stand one at a time while he found them not guilty. The New Dawn Gold Mining Company had not been a defendant, but the judge, in a remarkable verdict, found it, its management, and its employees not guilty.

  Joseph scratched his head. Charges had not been laid against the New Dawn Gold Mining Company, but it had been acquitted. Lidy’s assistant was right. It had been a setup from the start. Worse, now they’d been acquitted and couldn’t be tried again.

  Lidy’s assistant turned around and said, “I’m sorry. It is the way of the Congo.”

  “I’m sick of hearing that,” Joseph replied. “Are you sure they can’t be retried in The Hague?”

  “Positive. Face it. They are far too smart for you. Go back to America. For all your education, wealth, and fame, you have not been able to achieve anything.”

  “There must be something we can do.”

  “You could bring a civil action against the military and New Dawn, but the result would be the same. The court would follow the decision made today,” the assistant said, and then smiled.

  “You’ve thought of something,” Joseph said.

  “Yes. If you could find out where the real owners reside or where the management emanated, you might be able to bring an action in that jurisdiction, without the court relying on today’s decision. It’s a long shot, though.”

  Gizenga and Donatien were in the corridor surrounded by a group of laughing soldiers when Joseph left the courtroom. Gizenga smiled, but his eyes were cold, and he ran his index finger across his throat. Standing conspicuously at the entrance were Bennett and Kronk.

  The crowd was still chanting as Joseph came down the steps, but the enthusiasm and rhythm of the previous evenings had evaporated. Leon was holding the door of the limo open, and as Joseph got in, he said, “Take me to the hospital, please. I want to see Mr. Lidy.”

  Bennett climbed in the backseat next to Kronk. “We need to fly out tonight.”

  “We can wait until the morning,” Joseph replied. “There’s no rush.”

  “No rush? You don’t have the luxury of time. Didn’t you hear what the judge said about perjury charges? The morning might be too late.”

  “If only Mr. Lidy had finished cross-examining Boucher on Friday. Then I’d know who owns the mine and who’s pulling the strings,” Joseph said.

  Kronk looked over at Bennett and grinned before saying, “Bou
cher’s hotel is on the way to the airport. If we stop by on the way, we can have your answer in ten minutes, can’t we, Chuck?”

  “More like five.”

  “No,” Joseph said. “I’ll be as bad as they are if I employ those tactics. What are you going to do? Threaten to pull his fingernails out with pliers?”

  “Jesus!” Kronk exclaimed. “The last time you were here, you killed two soldiers and a general. Now you’re getting all sanctimonious. Do you want to know who owns the mine?”

  “Yes, but not that way.”

  Bennett’s cellphone buzzed, and after he’d finished the call, he said, “That was our embassy. There’s no time to go to the hospital. The Congolese are preparing a warrant now. They’ll arrest you when they serve it. What do you have at the hotel?”

  “Just clothes.”

  “You’ve got your passport, laptop, and cellphone with you now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Head to the airport, Leon, and don’t waste a minute.”

  “Did you tell anyone when we were leaving, Joseph?” Kronk asked.

  “I told Lidy’s assistant that it’d be first thing in the morning.”

  “You might’ve just saved yourself. They’re probably waiting at the hotel and, with luck, won’t have notified customs.”

  “I’m a U.S. citizen,” Joseph said. “They wouldn’t dare hold me.”

  “And you’re an Olympic gold medalist too,” Bennett said. “It means diddly squat here. I won’t be happy until we’re out of the DRC’s airspace. Fortunately, that’ll only take ten minutes. Come on, Leon, faster.”

  CHAPTER 34

  ..................

  THOSE WHO CAN AFFORD THE luxury of private jets do not stand in long lines waiting to have their passports stamped. A young, fawning customs official ushered Joseph and his two de facto bodyguards into a private room. The man asked Joseph for his autograph, saying he’d watched him on television and prayed he would be victorious before the start of the fifteen hundred. Joseph chatted amicably while Bennett nudged him in the back of his leg.

  As they walked across the tarmac, Kronk said, “One phone call and we’re screwed, and here you are carrying on like you’d just found a long-lost friend.”