A mascot for evil.

Oh the stress, the stress!
One would have thought that judgement on killer Donovan Moodley's appeal hearing would be a straightforward affair this morning. But that was SO not the case.
The media arrived in court en masse this morning, ready to write about Donovan's every move as well as all the details of Judge Joop Labuschagne's judgement. But first the small matter of getting permission for photographers in court. Fortunately Judge Joop is a pleasant guy, seemingly understanding of the challenges the media face in reporting on court matters and so he cheerfully granted permission for cameras to come in providing no pictures were taken while court was in session.
So I quickly called ChiefPhotographer waiting outside to tell him the good news and then put my phone on silent as judgement began. It started ringing immediately - again and again. As did the phones of my colleagues. Security downstairs had decided to block all photographers and cameramen from entering the courthouse. But we were stuck scribbling away, unable to help or even answer their frantic calls.
In less than half-an-hour the judge had dashed Moodley's hopes that the court would overlook the fact that he was four years late and then grant him his appeal. Quick discussions with the clerk of the court, a call to security downstairs and the photographers were allowed in.
Unfortunately my sidekick ChiefPhotographer got picked out and made to put all his equipment through the x-ray machines while all the other shooters sprinted into courtroom 2B. Not one to be outdone, ChiefPhotographer outdid himself. Like the pro that he is, he headed to the back of the courtroom while the others all mobbed to the front. He bounded across the room, headed down the other side, charged in front of the dock, rammed his camera up in front of Moodley's face and popped off this image. Bam!

As Moodley was led down the stairs he handed a letter to SweetYoungThing from another daily paper. She grabbed it and put it in her bag, causing a massive outcry as the Matthews family yelled at her that she was wrong to take it.
"I'm not giving this to anyone," she cried as several people demanded that she hand the letter over.
Eventually the document was taken by a security official who then handed it over to Piet Byleveld the investigating officer. He checked it out, determined that it was Moodley's own little press statement and let everyone who wanted have copies.
And therein, written in his very own psychopathic script, he posed the question:
"A country sickened by crime must choose an official face for crime and a mascot for evil. Is that me?"
Okay, so all together now: "YES IT IS!"

Moodley has his day

Horribly, horribly gruelling day today was.
Killer Donovan Moodley got his little moment in the sun as he took up a bit of Joburg High Court time to try and wangle his way out of jail. When he arrived, I realised why he was trying every trick in the book to get his sorry ass out of Sun City's communal cell. The guy must have lost a third of his body weight. He looked like a schoolboy who borrowed his dad's suit. Even his teeth looked too big for him. Life in jail has not been kind to him since he got bust with a cellphone and lost his single cell and all privileges. Ah well.
So he wants the court to believe that although he planned the kidnapping of Leigh, and the extorting of money from her father, the murder bit at the end was not premeditated and happened simply because it dawned on him at that moment that she would be able to recognise him if he let her go. Obviously he had no option but to shoot her, and he just happened to have his gun with him, coincidentally loaded with killer dum-dum bullets.
And in an additional application, he wants the court to rule that the trial Judge made a grave error by not questioning him and getting more clarity on his full understanding of the words he used in his confession because he did not understand that sentences like "planned to kill her" meant that he thought about the murder before suddenly freaking out and pulling the trigger. He wants the court to consider this legal technicality and grant him a retrial.
The prosecutor on the other hand wants none of it. He argued that Donovan had filed his application about 1 500 days late after the 14 day deadline following his trial expired, that he had indicated in court that he fully understood his own confession and had signed it, and that he was out of his cotton-picking mind if he thought anybody would buy into his whole "I honestly never really planned to kill her, it just happened" story.
I tried to take a photo of him and he actually smiled for me, but my Blackberry was too slow to catch the moment. I only managed to get this sad image:

And so I finished of a dreadful day by joining Jonathan's 60-minute step class at the local gym. Bad move. Now I am emotionally drained, physically stuffed and even my hair feels like it hurts. Kind of in the state I imagine Donovan spends his evenings these days.