Jakarta 06:00 WIB
The sun was shining on the buildings of Sudirman. For the time in years, the city felt like it was waking up from a bad dream. The news was not about people dying or the "Monday Massacre" anymore. Now it was about court papers.
Pistachio was standing at the back of the courtroom. He had his hands in the pockets of his coat. He was not there to investigate or to be a witness. He was just watching the system he had been trying to fix for a long time.
There were three police officers and a bank director sitting in the defendant's seat. These were people who used to be very powerful.
The lawyer was talking in a voice. He said, "The other side says the computer evidence was obtained by hacking into computers. " His voice was echoing in the room.
Malik leaned over to Pistachio. Whispered, "See, this is what people do not like. Six hours of talking about details. People are already losing interest. They are looking at their phones for something exciting."
Pistachio said, "Let them look at their phones. The Executioner gave them a show. I am giving them the truth. The truth is a slow and boring process."
The judge looked up. She was taking notes. She looked very tired. She said, "The court sees the problems with the computer evidence. Now we will talk about the papers we found at the Penjaringan site. The other side can call their witness."
Pistachio felt a little happy. The papers he had found were working.
When they walked out of the courtroom, the air felt different. No cameras were watching from the screens. There were people. Some people were still wearing bands on their arms. They were remembering the days when everything was controlled. Other people looked happy. They were finally free.
Malik asked Pistachio, "Do you think Hartono was about one thing? Do you think people do not get better?"
Pistachio stopped and looked at some kids near a bus stop. One kid had dropped his wallet. A man nearby looked at it. For a second, he wanted to take it. Then he looked up at the sky. Hesitated. He picked up the wallet. Gave it back to the kid.
Pistachio said, "I do not know if people get better, Malik.. For the first time in ten years, they are choosing who they want to be. They are not doing it because they are afraid of being punished. They are doing it because they have to look at themselves in the mirror every day."
Pistachio took out a notebook from his pocket. He crossed out the line of his first case.
He said to himself, "The problem is not solved. It is just being taken care of. One day at a time."
He drove away from the courtroom. He disappeared into the imperfect city of Jakarta. The "Young Detective" was gone. Now he was a man who knew that justice is not a destination. It is the struggle to get there.
[THE END]