Anger management

It was a rough day on Tuesday and in hindsight I probably let the team down a bit, but the lawyers say no damage was done. On the plus side, I know where I lost my focus and I won’t let it happen again.

Joe the grass was due to give witness testimony in my trial (I’m not a witness in his because I had nothing to do with his arrest) and what happened was that I was focused on him finally voicing a mea culpa instead of exonerating me as a dealer.

Ultimately he did that, which is all the prosecutors and judges needed to hear, but for some reason I wanted him to admit his cowardice and treachery in court, which of course he squirmed out of.

But let’s start at the beginning of the day.

Joe had spent most of the night in Ned Kelly’s cell — the block’s main meth den — and when I went out for a coffee at 4.30 am, you could still hear “doof doof” music playing.

He emerged at 7.30 for appel, looking like death warmed up, and then collapsed outside the door. I couldn’t resist taking a picture. While he was due to give evidence in my trial, his trial was also due to resume immediately afterwards. In the past he has spent four days on the pipe and then cleans up his act in the three days leading up to his court date, but clearly he isn’t even bothering with that now.

The same mad court process followed at noon, and I am proud to report that I have now reduced my personal best for removing handcuffs to less than two seconds. It is actually a breeze when you know how.

Late Monday the government announced Wednesday would be a public holiday for gubanatorial elections, and so court authorities moved half of that day’s trials to Tuesday as well, so the buses and court cells were even more crowded than normal.

There was a really big media presence, but they were focused mainly on the “Natural Born Killers”, the hippy couple on trial for the murder of a Bali policeman.

After about two hours, my trial resumed and Joe took the stand. He looked like he had been on an all nighter and was visibly shaking as he put his hand on the Bible and took the oath.

I’d told my lawyers that my main concern was he wouldn’t admit why he called and that he’d called and SMSd half a dozen times each before I finally agreed to give him some hash, and indeed he said he only called once. When the prosecutor asked why he had called me, he said “the police made me do it, they found his name in my phone”.

Under cross examination by my lawyers, he admitted that he had called me “several times … I forget”. Then, when asked if I had ever supplied him with drugs or that he was aware I had ever supplied anyone else he said “no, as far as I know he is not a dealer and never has been”.

“So why did you call HIM,” asked my second chair lawyer?

“The police made me do it.”

“But why him in particular?”

“They saw his name in my phone.”

“But who gave them his name?”

“It was my friend.”

“Which friend?”

“It was Ed, he is a music teacher at Bali Island School.”

The prosecutor then interjected and spoke to the judges (all this was being translated to me) saying Ed was not a witness or factor in my case but was a special informant in Joe’s trial, prompting the judge to tell my lawyers to “move along”.

“What did the police say would happen to you if you called Fox,” my lawyer asked?

“They said nothing would happen to me and that nothing would happen to him.”

At this point my lead lawyer hushed his number two and said we had no further questioning, then it was down to me to refute anything he had said.

Again I clarified that he had called many times and I had refused each time, and that I was shocked I had been called at all because I wasn’t a dealer and never had been and …

One of the judges, sitting in for the first time because the usual judge was sick, seemed irritated by this and told me to stop and stick only to disputing any facts. My lawyer placed a hand on my arm and told me to end it.

I was very frustrated. I wanted to hear him admit in court that he had grassed on me. He tearfully admitted it to me and a few friends in the immediate aftermath of our arrest, but since then tells a different version of the story to anyone who’ll listen — including one where I apparently set him up.

My third chair lawyer thought it was our worst day in court, but my main brief said no damage was done and both the prosecution and bench had been given plenty of evidence to show I definitely wasn’t a dealer. This would give them the justification for a lighter sentence, and the manner of my arrest was neither here nor there.

I get their point. I should have got it earlier, but I guess subconsciously I just can’t shake off the outrage and loathing I have for Joe.

I gave a brief outline of proceedings to several friends via WhatsApp afterwards, and I think Pam Dorrian summed it up best and finally punctured my outrage and anger balloon by reminding me that he’ll get what’s coming, and I can now forget about any more involvement from him and focus on my own defense.

A big thanks too to Didier and Sonya for sitting through the hearing and providing moral support — even though I told them to stay away!

My trial is now adjourned until next Thursday, when the prison doctor is due to give evidence on my behalf. I’ll write separately about him in coming days … a real piece of work.

I then take the stand for examination by the prosecutor and judges. The next two weeks are reserved for written or oral testimony by defense witnesses after which there is a pre-sentence hearing, where the prosecution say what they want. The following week the judges hand down the final sentence. So it should be around three to four weeks more.

I’m in a much better mood today. I’ve shed yesterday’s frustration, had lots of wonderful visitors and a great meal.

As I write, I can hear the thump of “doof doof” music from two cells down, and I know Joe is back on the meth pipe. For some reason this pleases me…