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The Joana case

by Francisco Moita Flores*

The lawyer for Leonor Cipriano, [the woman] who was condemned for, in complicity with her brother, murdering her daughter and concealing the cadaver in an unknown location, appeared this week with a sleazy trick to try to avoid the defeat that can already be perceived in this case that he leads against the PJ inspectors over alleged aggressions. He takes off his spectacular sunglasses and presents Leonor’s true confession.

As everyone knows, she made several confessions. But this is the true one. Says he. And I believe him, because the man has virtues that escape the common mortal, the main one being his merit to speak to spirits that are summoned during medium sessions. As a matter of fact, it was in that way, he says, that he knows beyond any doubt where Maddie is.

I must confess that I would believe with more conviction if, with such magisterial powers, which are not bestowed upon him by any law school or by the Lawyers’ Order, the man would render a bloody good service if by invoking the spirits he would tell us where Joana can be found, as he would serve his client much better and would appease so many people who worried about the end of the poor girl. Concerning the confession that was now presented, there is also one certainty: nobody will believe that it was obtained under torture. One cannot imagine that indescribable lawyer landing a slap on Leonor for her to tell the truth. Or another truth among the many truths, or maybe not, that she told throughout time.

I must also admit that the creature, who is a lawyer that is registered with the Order and everything, didn’t question her after this confession. If your brother did it and you are innocent, why didn’t you denounce him? Why were you unjustly stoned like a Magdalena, without your duties as a mother imposing on the cover-up and the complicity in such a barbarous crime that was committed by your brother? Did you at least ask him where he hid the body? If he was soiled with blood, why didn’t you take the clothes to the police? Didn’t you at least say where he killed her? And he killed her when you were about to sell her? Why didn’t you wait for some time, to see if the slave market went up? At least you’d make some money and then I, with my medium powers, would discover her whereabouts.

Of course he didn’t carry out this questioning. That’s something for the police, those lowly animals, who don’t think a rotten confession with clay feet is good enough, and who, being dirty animals, would rush to the brother and say: Look, your sister confessed. How is it now?

It’s plain to see that this chronicle is full of silliness. Of course it is. It couldn’t be otherwise when a trial becomes a session of stand-up comedy.

source: Correio da Manhã, 18.01.2009

* University teacher

1 comment:

  1. Tudo tão bem dito e explicado.Portanto nem comento,pois quem sou eu perante esta Pessoa que admiro,F.M.F.


    Há dias,e aqui neste espaço fica um pouco a despropósito(?)o Dr. Paulo Sargento,Pessoa sempre sucinta e clara,acabava 1 artigo com

    " A escolha de Sofia".
    Vi o filme há muitos anos e,juro que não conseguirei rever.


    Dr. Paulo Sargento: por favor pegue no que prometeu continuar.


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