Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Donovan Moodley and moods

I am still feeling bleak about being back home after my awesome trip last week. I got up with the sparrows this morning and revved the heck out of the engine of my very small black car as I tried to do advanced driving on my way to work. And just got a strong smell of burning. Ah man! Oh to drive a BMW X5 M-power! I may have been one of the first on the planet to get to test one out, but unless I marry into huge money or find some enterprising way to make a fortune, it looks like I'm stuck with driving a car with a 1.4l engine (note the petrol head talk - I think the motoring people got to me).
So today I tracked down the application for an appeal against the life sentence handed down on one Donovan Moodley. He has now served four years for kidnapping Leigh Matthews, extorting R50 000 from her dad as ransom before shooting her dead, freezing her body and then dumping it in the veld.
It seems Donovan, who is having a hard time now that he has been removed from his cushy single cell after being bust with two cellphones on his person, wants the courts to believe that there is a very good reason why he should be allowed to go home sometime soon.
He reckons that while he planned the whole kidnapping and extortion gig down to the last T, he completely forgot to work out a way to release his victim safe and unharmed in such a way that she would not be able to identify him or lead the cops to him at some later stage. So, after following his plan and getting to the point where the deal he struck dictated that he now release Leigh, he suddenly found himself with absolutely no option other than to kill her. Any judge, other than the one who presided over his original trial, will be reasonable and see things his way he contends.
And the reason why he has taken four years to make this application is no fault of his own. His aunt, who he declines to name, would regularly pop up with offers to fund his legal case and then disappear off the face of the earth when it came down to the crunch. Several times. So the court must please just completely disregard this four-year lapse. Like it never happened. Apparently.
Sheesh. I read the whole affidavit and looked for a reason why he might be able to get himself off the hook, but I couldn't find one. Maybe the courts will understand him. Or maybe, as my colleague Boy Wonder hypothesised, Donovan was high when he formulated his affidavit.
I don't know.
I just know that this time last week I was in Munich, having spent the day visiting design houses and ate lunch at a delightful spot called Tantris that rates among the top 50 restaurants in the world.

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