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Part 1(Fate)





They say the consequences of everyone action depends on the action been conducted, but I say ‘put a sock in it'



St James refer consequences as gender inequality. A situation whereby, the action been made is weighed by the gender of the accused. Females tend not to be judged more passive and cruel because of their weak nature. Males, serve till when they no longer need to the judged.



Now, the big question is: Was St James right?




Camera flashing,



Sharp lit bulb illuminated the whole room!



Dead silence!



‘Guilty or not guilty, St James?' The guffy old judge asked, drawing his spectacles over his nose. He waited patiently, probably counting to twenty in order to keep his impatience stable.



‘Not guilty! Your lordship'



Dead silence again!



The judge made a derisive noise at the back of his throat, drew the spectacles farther down his nose and spoke again.




‘Guilty or not guilty, St James?' he repeated, probably not so sure of what he heard.



‘Not guilty, your lordship!' I repeated, looking about the room for the fifth time in boredom. About five witnesses, my lawyer and some other pioneers of a court room. I diverted my gaze to my lawyer and he nodded solenmly.



Looking at the judge who felt exhausted by my lack of accepting my sins, I gave him a cool look.



‘N..ot.. Guilty?' he asked again. I looked him straight in the eye and repeated.



‘Not guilty, your lordship!'



The man swallowed and the witnesses shook their heads. I waited patiently, tapping on the wooden surface and trying so hard to calculate my anger.



‘This court proceedings shall be adjourned till on the twentieth, when the accused has admitted his crimes' The judge said, pity and confusion laced his eyebrows. A loud bang on a wooden surface and everyone stood up as the judge made his way out of the room.



I watched as he went away, burning holes into his back with my stare. When will he ever get the fact that I will never admit to anything. Admission is for the weak, and I am not a weakling!



Few minutes later, my lawyer came over to where I stood and we shook hands. He looked me in the eye and said,


‘Nice job James, very nice job'


I didn't need to answer, I just nodded while the policeman came and handcuffed me, dragging me away from the room.



...............................................................................................
Outside the building, cameras where clicking and reporters where all over the place like bees to the beehive. As the police dragged me off, the reporters scurried to ask questions.



‘Sir, St James. Why did you do it? Why didn't you plead guilty?' I ignored them and followed the policeman who was getting impatient due to the heated sun and noises of cameras.


‘Sir James, you are powerful and a very fearfully respected man in this country. Why then did you have to denial?'



‘Because, there are most things that needs not ‘sticking your noses' in' I said as I tried to jab the female reporter in the ribs but thought otherwise. She was a female after all, the weakling!



She stared at me with fear evident in her eyes. I looked at her sternly and she flinched, her knuckles turning white due to the harsh grip on the microphone.



~~~~~~~

Let's begin another epic journey into the world of crimes, power, fame and disaster....

I made a cover for this book but can't upload it here and I'm not too happy about that. Btw, I hope you enjoyed this part?


*Three days update*


Update after every three days

Sochey, goodevening!
How come you haven't updated this story? It's really nice. Not cliche cause the storyline seems original.

Dew04:
Sochey, goodevening!
How come you haven't updated this story? It's really nice. Not cliche cause the storyline seems original.

Good evening to you too dear,
The book was banned by Nairaland spam bot. I kind of uploaded three chapters but didn't see it so, I lost the mojo.. I might probably ask a friend of mine here to help me recover it back

sochey:
Good evening to you too dear,
The book was banned by Nairaland spam bot. I kind of uploaded three chapters but didn't see it so, I lost the mojo.. I might probably ask a friend of mine here to help me recover it back

aww... You could have reported it. The mods would have rectified it. It's really nice. I had clicked your profile just to read your stories

Dew04:
aww... You could have reported it. The mods would have rectified it. It's really nice. I had clicked your profile just to read your stories

Thank you so much, I really appreciate

I might ask for this book to be rectified but I will have to finish DEADLY MATRIMONY and PETALS OF ROSE

Consequences: Fate of the Known

20th June 2020

Court proceedings.

The court room, a grand high ceilinged chamber with dark wooden paneling and rows of worn, leather upholstered benches. The air was thick with tension as the guffy old judge sat upon his high mighty chair looking down on us like some God to his disciples.

“This court is now in session” he declared, adjusting the funny old wig on his head. His bored spectacles clad eyes scans through the papers in front of him, wrinkly hands working through it as he gets himself accustomed to the case in front of him.

He looked like he'd very much like to be anywhere else but here. Like he was tired of this repetition of things, the unending cases, the dramatic scenes of the court and perhaps that old wig that sat on his bald head; hanging for its dear life and pleading for mercy.

“The case before us today is that of the state versus Sir St. James, accused of murder in the first degree”

The prosecutor, a short but imposing man with a confident smile, stood up. “Your honour, the state is ready to proceed”

The old man nodded. “Very well then, the defence may proceed with their opening statement”

My lawyer stands, face rigid but fair, eyes focused on the man in front of him “Thank you, your honour.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the evidence will show that my client; Sir St. James is innocent of the crimes of which he is accused”

As the trail progressed, the courtroom is filled with the sound of testimony, the rustling of papers, and the occasional outburst from the gallery.

As all these where happening, my derriere was glued to my seat, unfazed, unmoving. Each proceedings a masterpiece to behold. Never in a million years did I think I'd be seated here one day, witnessing this sort of drama, my fate hanging on a thread in front of the judge. A slight edge of the scissors to it and my life comes crashing down.

The judge banged his gravel, calling the court to order, the prosecutor and the defence attorney sparred, each trying to sway the jury to their side.

The prosecutor is tough, adamant on the stories he believes, doing everything best to register it into the minds of the jury. But Mr. Mason - my lawyer - was a fierce and stubborn man. He'd never back down even if he was shouted down on by the judge.

“I've heard all that it is to this case, I'll ask the accused again. Guilty or not guilty?” he says, eyes piercing into mine. For a moment I had no idea I was being referred to, so I sat there, oblivious, like a junkie, allowing this melodic songs of praise that had somehow managed its way into my mind all morning.

The judge clears his throat, loudly. My eyes somehow darts towards him, the audacity of him to interrupt my bliss!

“Guilty or not guilty Sir St. James?” he thunders, impatient.

I stand, like the champion I am, eyes bold and stupid, heart racing like a lunatic, face firm and grim, I plead...

“Not guilty, your honour!”

Christ, you can imagine the absolute horror on his face as he looks down on me. If he were indeed God, I'd have sworn he'd strike me with thunder and light bolts right there and there. But he wasn't God, and he wouldn't force me to admit a crime I didn't commit.

“Not, guilty? Not guilty!” he laughs, it seemed by now he had fully grasped reality, the sheer horror of a man not admitting to his crimes even though his life was hanging on a balance.

“You'll rot in jail, James” he declares. He's taking this case too personal, very unprofessional for a man of his age on status.

“That's Sir St. James to you, your honour. And we'll see about that!” I conclude with a wink.

The thing is, I honestly don't know what's giving me the moral to talk or act like this. I mean, if it were some other guy, they'd probably be on their knees, begging for their lives, crying their hearts out in front of everyone, disgracing themselves.

But I wasn't some other guy, I am Sir St. James, the only one of my kind....