“Hey, you wretch! How dare you lay a hand on me?!” Abdi bellowed, his eyes bulging with disbelief at being struck by a woman he had always dismissed as weak.
THUD!
Melati’s heel came down squarely upon Abdi’s face, driving into his lip until blood spattered upon the cold floorboards.
“Vermin!” she shrieked, voice sharp with fury. “You’re no better than rubbish!”
THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!
One by one, Welly, Diga, Gaga, and Aryo bore the full force of Melati’s wrath.
Her kicks were merciless. Precise, hard, and without hesitation.
The five men could do nothing but wince, slumped in their bonds, utterly helpless to defend themselves or strike back.
Tears, held in check but burning with rage, welled in Melati’s eyes.
She stood, breath ragged and body trembling, yet her gaze blazed with unyielding fire.
Felzein exchanged a troubled look with Sergeant Bowo, silently imploring for intervention.
If left unchecked, Melati’s fury might well land her in serious trouble.
“Sir...” Felzein whispered.
Sergeant Bowo nodded sharply, then called to Bani, “Bani...”
The order needed no elaboration. Bani moved swiftly, accompanied by several officers, closing the distance to Melati and gently restraining her before passion became peril.
“Enough, miss! That will do!” Bani urged softly, gripping her wrists with care.
“Let me go, sir! Please, don’t hold me!” Melati cried, tears mingling with the blood staining the floor.
“Steady now, miss. We’ll see to them,” one officer assured, striving to calm her tempestuous spirit.
Melati stood momentarily silent, her breaths shallow and uneven.
Gradually, she relinquished the tempest within her, her frame sagging under the heavy cloak of anguish and profound disillusionment.
Rosa, who had been rooted to the spot, shaken by the ferocity of Melati’s wrath, hurried forward, her features etched with concern.
“Steady on, Mel… take heart, alright?” she murmured softly, striving to soothe.
Still trembling and gasping for breath, Melati collapsed into Rosa’s arms, “Ocha… I can’t bear this…” she whispered brokenly, her voice faltering amidst the torrent of tears she could no longer restrain.
“There, there, Mel… it’s all behind us now,” Rosa assured her gently, stroking Melati’s quivering back with tender patience.
Felzein drew a measured breath and fixed Sergeant Bowo with a piercing gaze, “Sir… these five are the suspects in a string of thefts from my grocery shop, as well as several others.”
“Furthermore, they were responsible for depositing rat carcasses within this pharmacy and inscribing threats upon the floor.”
“There is even cause to believe they harboured plans of a violent assault, perhaps even an attempt on one of our lives.”
Felzein’s eyes darkened with resolve, “Pray tell, Sergeant… what charges do you believe they might face?”
Sergeant Bowo contemplated for a moment before responding with resolute clarity, “From what you’ve described, they stand accused under several statutes concurrently.”
“First, Article 363 of the Penal Code, pertaining to aggravated theft, carries a maximum sentence of seven years’ incarceration.”
“Second, Article 335, addressing acts of public nuisance, given their placing of rat carcasses and the inscribed threats, punishable by up to one year’s imprisonment or a fine.”
“Third, Article 406, for wilful damage to property, as they defaced the pharmacy’s premises, subject to a sentence of up to two years and eight months.”
“And should the intent to kill be established, they would face charges under Article 340, relating to premeditated murder.”
“The gravest penalties here include the death sentence, life imprisonment, or a term not exceeding twenty years.”
“Additionally, Article 170 could apply if violence was committed collectively, especially where injury or death occurred, carrying a potential sentence of up to twelve years.”
Sergeant Bowo fixed Felzein with a measured gaze, “In sum, if all conditions are satisfied, they may be liable for severe, indeed formidable, penalties.”
Felzein fixed Sergeant Bowo with a look brimming with quiet hope, his voice barely a whisper, weighed down by the gravity of the question.
“Sir, how long might they spend behind bars? How long must they atone for the catalogue of offences they have wrought?”
The sergeant considered for a moment, his gaze steady and resolute, before responding with measured certainty.
“Should the evidence prove beyond doubt their guilt on all counts, they stand to face multiple charges, each carrying its own sentence.”
“For aggravated theft under Article 363, the penalty may be as severe as seven years’ imprisonment.”
“Add to that wilful damage to property, Article 406, which carries up to two years and eight months more.”
“The charge of causing public nuisance, as per Article 335, relating to their threats and intimidation, carries a maximum of one year’s confinement.”
“But the gravest of all would be a conviction under Article 340 for premeditated murder, which could result in death, life imprisonment, or a maximum custodial term of twenty years.”
“In sum, if convicted on every count, they might well face two decades or more behind bars, though the exact term would ultimately rest in the hands of the judge, guided by the evidence laid bare in court.”
Felzein drew a long, deliberate breath, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that seemed to pierce straight through the five trembling men before him.
Welly, now visibly unravelled, paled to the colour of chalk.
Panic clutched at his throat as he stumbled forward, voice cracking with desperation.
“Sir, please! You’ve got it all wrong! This is a misunderstanding, I swear! We didn’t mean any harm, truly! I beg of you!”
His eyes darted to Melati, wild and pleading. With a final shred of hope, he cried out, “Babe! Please, babe! Don’t let them do this to me! I still love you! You know that, don’t you? Please, don’t let them lock me away!”
Melati turned her face aside, jaw tight. But then, slowly, she glanced back.
Her lips curled into a smile, icy and broken, a smile that held more pain than forgiveness.
“Love?” she echoed, voice low, tremulous with restrained fury. “You call that love? You beat me nearly every week for a year, Welly. I stayed silent. I swallowed every bruise, hoping, foolishly, that you might change. But you didn’t. You only grew worse.”
She took a trembling breath, her voice breaking, “Prison? You deserve far more than that. You deserve to rot.”
Felzein’s jaw tightened. He turned to Sergeant Bowo, eyes burning with conviction.
“She reported it, sir. I was there. I stood by her when she filed the complaint. If we add repeated physical assault, domestic abuse, it changes the picture entirely, doesn’t it?”
Bowo gave a firm nod, voice solemn but unflinching, “It does. I remember that report well. Under Article 44 of Law No. 23, 2004, Domestic Violence, what happened between them falls under Dating Abuse, and is prosecutable. Maximum penalty: three years in prison or a fine of fifteen million rupiah.”
His gaze shifted to Welly, who now stood utterly paralysed, his trembling no longer from fear alone but the creeping grip of guilt and inevitability.
“With the addition of that charge,” Bowo continued coldly, “your sentence could increase considerably. And rest assured! We shall proceed by the book.”
The five men burst into fits of panicked shouting, twisting helplessly in their restraints, pleading to anyone who might offer them reprieve.
“Take them away,” Bowo commanded, his tone like iron.
“Yes sir!” barked the officers, moving at once to lead the prisoners out, their wrists secured in cold steel.
Felzein lingered a moment longer, eyeing the frayed knot he had loosened just before their removal.
In truth, he’d hoped they might struggle, move just enough to trigger one final consequence.
But they hadn’t.
He let out a dry, humourless chuckle, “If only they’d squirmed a bit more,” he murmured under his breath, “they might’ve found the real surprise.”