The prosecutor lifted a small vial sealed in an evidence bag.
“My Lord, this was retrieved from the syringe found beside the grave. Analysis proves it is a paralytic toxin capable of slowing the heartbeat and making the victim appear dead. Only a trained doctor could confirm life. And yet this doctor signed a death certificate.”
All eyes turned to Dr. David. His face collapsed. He sobbed openly, his words tumbling out.
“I was forced! He threatened me. Williams said if I didn’t help, he would ruin me. He said I would lose my hospital, my family. I swear I only signed because I was afraid.”
Judith’s face darkened.
“Afraid? You let him put me in a coffin. You let them lower me into the earth. You betrayed your oath—and me.”
Dr. David buried his face in his hands.
“Forgive me, Judith. Forgive me.”
The prosecutor turned to the judge.
“My Lord, we have the poison. We have the syringe. We have the testimony of the victim herself. And we have the witness—the man who risked his life to speak the truth.”
Benjamin froze as the prosecutor’s hand gestured toward him. The entire court turned to face him. Whispers rose.
“That’s the homeless man.”
“The beggar who stopped the funeral.”
The judge nodded.
“Mr. Benjamin Okoro, please step forward.”
Benjamin rose slowly, each step echoing in the silent hall. He stopped at the witness stand, his rough hands gripping the wooden rail. The oath was read. He swore, his voice low but steady.
The prosecutor leaned close.
“Mr. Okoro, tell this court what you witnessed.”
Benjamin lifted his head, his eyes scanning the hall. He swallowed hard. Then his voice rang out, calm but heavy with truth.
“The day before the burial, I was under the bridge where I sleep. I heard a car parked nearby. Two men were inside—Williams and Dr. David. They were arguing. I heard Williams say, ‘The poison worked. She is cold already. Tomorrow we bury her before anyone suspects.’ The doctor said he was scared, but Williams told him, ‘Do as I say, or you’ll lose everything.’”
The crowd erupted again. The judge shouted for silence.
Benjamin’s voice grew stronger.
“I knew then that if I didn’t speak, they would bury her alive. I waited at the cemetery. When they brought her coffin, I begged them to stop. They called me mad, but I saw her fingers twitch. I could not let them lower her in.”
He paused, his eyes moist.
“I lost my wife and daughter years ago. I was powerless then. But not this time. Not again.”
The silence in the room was thick, broken only by the quiet sobbing of a few women in the gallery.
Judith’s eyes filled with tears.
“God bless you, Benjamin,” she whispered.
The defense attorney rose, his tone mocking.
“So we are to believe the word of a beggar? A man who sleeps under bridges? How do we know he did not imagine these words? How do we know he wasn’t paid by my client’s enemies to cause chaos?”
Benjamin’s jaw tightened. He stood taller.
“I may be poor. I may sleep on the streets. But I do not lie. I have nothing to gain—only the truth to tell.”
The judge leaned forward, her face stern.
