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Gag Order – Installment 11 – The Press gets in on the Act

The door of the court room burst open and Wilona flew out, sharply digging her heels as she walked. Krasten was close behind.

‘I’ve never been so humiliated in court. I can’t believe I did what you told me to!’

‘The judge is losing his spunk,’ said Krasten.

Wilona wheeled on Krasten and said, ‘It’s you who dropped your balls to your brains!’

‘I wouldn’t know how to do that even if I tried.’

‘Aww! Shut up!’

Sakaris and Ulani breezed past. And Ulani surreptitiously flicked her tongue at Wilona.

‘Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! Lovers’ tiff spiraling away,’ said Sakaris. ‘I warned you about staging that wardrobe malfunction!’

Krasten raised his voice at the marching pair. ‘Open and shut case, huh? The judge shut the door on your fingers!’

Sakaris, not breaking his stride, gave a small wave over his shoulder.

‘You didn’t see it coming did you?’ called out Krasten, to the amusement of lawyers and lay walking past.

Sakaris and Ulani pivoted round the balustrade and rode down the industrious escalator. Ulani remained fixated on Wilona.

‘That one has the hots for you,’ said Krasten.

‘Shut your hamburger hole!’ said Wilona as she headed for the escalator. She rode down and smoothly stepped off the moving steps, Krasten close behind. They neared the exit and the glass doors slid open and let in a blast of hot air.

When Krasten and Wilona stepped out of the court building and into the sun, there was already a small crowd of reporters waiting at the short flight of steps. The pair pushed through the knot of people.

A hand stuck a recorder under Krasten’s chin. It was Yolanda Ang, in her mid-thirties, and sexy in a man-eating way.

‘A word, Krassi,’ said Yolanda.

‘Mr. Bronn, to you,’ he shot back, wading through the press of bodies. Some people in the crowd sniggered.

Yolanda again elbowed her way to the front, and said, ‘Mr. Bronn, why did you request a gag order? Did you not think the public has the right to know?’

Krasten ignored the question. He and Wilona kept moving.

‘Mr. Bronn?’

‘Yes,’ said Krasten, and wheeled towards Yolanda. ‘The accused has rights too. The right to anonymity, not having his life ruined.’

‘How about the victim, Mr. Bronn, what about her ruined life?’ It was Yolanda again. People continued to jostle for space and camcorders and hand-phones reached over the heads.

‘We’ve yet to determine who the victim is,’ said Krasten. ‘But you want a trial by your anonymous keyboard warriors.’ Sniggers rippled through the crowd which moved as one with Krasten and Wilona.

‘I love putting fear in the hearts of philandering men,’ said Yolanda.

‘Yes, you’re an expert on men, the philandering types.’

Yolanda let out a small laugh but her eyes remained piscine. ‘The DPP says it’s open and shut,’ she said.

‘That’s not the judge’s view.’

‘What’s your view, Mr Bronn?’

‘What do you think?’ asked Krasten.

‘Oh, don’t be like that Mr. Bronn.’

‘Okay, here’s something for your readers to chew on. What if the accused was your father, husband or—’

‘Or grandfather?’ said Yolanda, defiance in her manner.

‘Yeah, what if it was your grandfather?’ Krasten stopped and the crowd held its breath.

Yolanda pouted in a provocative way and said, ‘I’ll screw them even harder!’

Krasten studied her hard, and after a moment, said, ‘Yeah, I bet you’ve good reason to.’

Wilona took Krasten’s elbow, surprising him with her touch of concern. Yolanda noticed the tenderness between the two and that pleased Krasten. As he allowed Wilona to guide him through the crowd, his eyes remained locked on Yolanda.

*** Copyright @ Eric Alagan, 2017 ***

*** On Wednesday 19 July, Krasten learns that court steps are not a soap box ***