Just as astonishing, I also discovered, is the fact that the very lawyer who defended Vignes Mourthi at his appeal against the death penalty was none other than the highly esteemed criminal defence lawyer Subhas Anandan whom Rajkumar consulted when he was under investigation for rape and sodomy. According to statements Anandan made during the investigation of Rajkumar, which I also found on Lawnet.com, the officer said his accuser was a woman of loose morals. Anandan replied that the moral character of the woman was quite important and told him not to worry as the prosecution would find it difficult to prove a case of rape against him. The lawyer also told Rajkumar that rape was a serious offence and he should not take matters lightly even though he had a good defence. He told Rajkumar to go to his office the next day to sign a warrant to act and pay a retainer. Following the bedside hospital consultation, Rajkumar met Anandan in his office to give him written instructions. According to the lawyer the officer was quite confident about his defence but was told that just because a woman is of loose character does not mean that she has consented. But Anandan told him not to worry, assuring him he could 'break' his accuser in court. Anandan then told Rajkumar to go to his office the next day to meet his associate Anand, and pay a deposit. Before he left Rajkumar revealed that his entire family - his parents, brother, sister and wife - already knew about the rape allegation. He had a talk with his father, he said, and told his wife he was sorry for cheating on her. He also said he was 'very relieved' by the assurances he obtained from Anandan and had no reason to contact 'J' for any reason. He had already made up his mind to 'see her in court if the need arises'.
At the same time intense efforts were being made by Rajkumar's many friends in the CNB and police to persuade 'J' to withdraw her statement with bribes involving large sums of money, which she refused. When this didn't work they even appealed to her humanity. Balbir Singh, a second officer convicted of corruption, told 'J' that Rajkumar was afraid his wife would have a miscarriage, his mother would commit suicide and his father have a heart attack. He also told her to think carefully before proceeding with the case. It would be embarrassing for her and her family as her name and picture would be published in the newspapers. None of this, of course, was true. His family was physically and mentally well and it would be illegal for the name and photo of a rape victim to be published in any newspaper. There were frantic, secret meetings between Rajkumar, his police officer friends and his accuser in shopping malls and fast-food outlets during which he, his family and friends offered large sums of money in exchange for withdrawing her allegations. All this intrigue was going on while Rajkumar was busy getting enough evidence together to ensure Vignes Mourthi would be found guilty and hanged. So the question that must now be asked, however belatedly, is: Why didn't Anandan, who claims in his memoirs The Best I Could that he has always fought for justice and for the underdog, at least inform the authorities that a gross miscarriage of justice might be about to take place? In 2001 he was honoured with the Legal Eagle Award by the Law Society of Singapore and being so highly respected by his peers such a move would have been admired. For it would have been prudent as well as just for the case against Rajkumar to have been resolved first and if he were found guilty of rape, sodomy and corruption and jailed, then so be it.
As was always said by anti-death penalty campaigners in Britain and other abolitionist nations it is better for a guilty man to go free than an innocent man to be hanged. Having proof that he was a corrupt cop, Rajkumar's evidence against Vignes Mourthi could have been more wisely considered by his trial judges. But it was not until Vignes Mourthi was hanged that Rajkumar's trial began. When Rajkumar, whose contested testimony had sent Vignes Mourthi to the gallows, was sentenced, Judge Sia Aik Kor described his actions as 'so obviously corrupt by the ordinary and objective standard that he must know his conduct is corrupt'. The judge also cited a precedent which found actions to be 'akin to an attempt to subvert the course of justice'. So if he could subvert the course of justice to save himself from a long prison term, was he also capable of inventing those damning words that confirmed, in the eyes of the trial judges, that Vignes Mourthi knew what he was doing? Although Anandan did not defend Rajkumar at his corruption trial or appeal, he was well aware of the damning rape and sodomy charges against him - albeit at that stage only allegations - when he was defending Vignes Mourthi at his appeal against the death penalty! Vignes's father, Vasu, thought his son was in the best possible hands at the appeal. So much so, he told me, that he handed over $47,000 in legal fees. According to court records he even argued that the trial judges erred in not giving this 'naive young man the benefit of the doubt. He was just another innocent dupe taken advantage of by a more sophisticated adult. He also repeated the question made by Vignes Mourthi's trial lawyers concerning the vital incriminating statement he added on a separate sheet of paper which was undated and unsigned by him when it was presented to the trial court as part of his alleged confession. It was implied that having realised their case may not have been as rock solid as they first thought, Rajkumar decided to bolster their case by squeezing in a few more piquant details. The record of the conversation was not signed or dated and Anandan maintained that considering Vignes Mourthi's life hung in the balance, these facts presented a reasonable doubt as to his guilt.
But why on earth didn't Anandan go further and reveal in the appeals court, or much, much earlier before his trial began even, the pending charges against this then alleged corrupt police officer? Why didn't he stick his neck out and at worst risk a judicial slap on the wrist for breaking the client-lawyer confidentiality rule instead of letting the system stick Vignes Mourthi's neck in the noose that was waiting for him? Or better still, why not send a confidential report to the Justice Minister with a suggestion that the trial of Vignes Mourthi be held up until the allegations against his former client, Rajkumar, be resolved first. No doubt many members of Singapore's judiciary were also aware of what was going on behind the scenes concerning the rape, sodomy and corruption charges hanging over Rajkumar, yet not one of them had the guts to speak out in protest.
In the event, District Court Judge Sia Aik Kor sentenced Rajkumar to 15 months in prison and Singh to six months. It might have also been important to thoroughly investigate Rajkumar's record in the arrests and prosecution of other drug traffickers languishing in Changi Prison or ending up on Darshan Singh's gallows. But by 22 January 2003 the Court of Appeal had already rejected Vignes Mourthi's appeal, spurning all pleas to entertain reasonable doubt in favour of supporting the trial judge's decision. He was on his way to the gallows and would be hanged together with his alleged accomplice, Angappan, at the convenience of the justice system.
In his memoirs, The Best I Could, Anandan writes about former Chief Justice Yong Pung How's demands to get things done quickly. 'He did not want justice to be delayed, always saying that justice delayed is justice denied. He wanted the law to be swift but in his enthusiasm he did not take into consideration the practical problems lawyers faced. No quarter was given. It was getting to be a very serious problem'. Anandan then recalls an annual dinner in which the then President of the Law Society, Chelva Rajah, made a speech in which he took at dig at Yong: 'When we talk about justice delayed being justice denied, we must also remember that justice hurried is justice buried'. Rajah got a near-standing ovation, according to Anandan. But I wonder what kind of ovation he would have got had he stood up and made a heroic attempt to save the life of the young Vignes Mourthi by revealing the evil of his crooked accuser? But I can reveal, following intensive inquiries and talking in confidence to several lawyers on condition that I would not expose them to the authorities in any way, that the high echelons of the judiciary and prosecution from the Attorney General down knew all about Rajkumar and were intent on keeping his evil, corrupt deeds under wraps until Vignes Mourthi was hanged. 'They were all terrified that it might be revealed at a very inopportune time', one told me. 'It would have thrown a very interesting spotlight on our justice system'.
And in a remarkable, candid and taped interview with Anandan, he said there was bad blood between Vignes Mourthi and Angappan from the moment of their arrests. They were both in the trap together, put there by an informer. Informers get paid well and the CNB protect them well also. Anandan said he was Rajkumar's first counsel.
He came to see me when I was in hospital recovering from a kidney operation. He came with two people and saw him again in my office. Subsequently, I found out that they were prosecution witnesses but at that time they were helping him when he was charged with rape. In the end they were all being investigated for helping him bribe the woman. When Rajkumar was tried I was called to give evidence - they wanted to know what was said at that time. I knew he was under investigation for the alleged rape and bribery attempts to get the woman to withdraw her complaint. Did the DPP and the Prosecutor know at Vignes's trial that their chief prosecution witness, Rajkumar, was under investigation? I do not know. They could have known.
Should they have known? Shouldn't they know who the witnesses really are, whether they are reliable and trustworthy and not given to fabrication or exaggeration? Anandan: 'I would say that even if I know that this guy is a tainted witness, I would still proceed with the case because the law says his evidence could still be believed. It would be up to the defence counsel who, if he had known, would have gone to town with it'. So why was Vignes tried first and hanged before Rajkumar was tried for corruption in the rape case? Anandan: 'If the cop had been tried first Vignes's trial lawyers would have gone to town with it'. So they wanted to get the Vignes case out of the way first? Anandan: 'I don't know if this was the strategy or whether they didn't know about the charges hanging over Rajkumar'. But they should have known? Anandan: 'I would think they should know. The DPP I think should know but maybe he didn't know'. Surely it's important to know that a senior officer giving evidence in a capital trial is under investigation for a serious offence such as rape and bribery? Anandan: 'I think Vignes would have got off because of the evidence of someone already convicted of corruption. The judge would have to think twice or three times before imposing a death sentence. When I came to defend Vignes at his appeal I didn't know whether or not Rajkumar had been charged with corruption. I know that when I was arguing the appeal I didn't know about it. I can't remember all the facts but when I was arguing the appeal for Vignes I didn't raise the issues concerning the charges against Rajkumar because I don't think I knew. He wasn't charged at the time of the complaint. He was only picked up by the police and released on police bail. I didn't know. He was charged very much later. They made sure the investigation was completed after the Vignes case was over and he was hanged. They made sure, they dragged it on. If you look at the date of the conviction of Rajkumar, it was two years after Vignes was hanged'. So why did they let it drag on so long? Anandan replied: Ask them!' He added: 'This kind of thing is very unsatisfactory in the system. It's very unhealthy and they know about it. I speak out often against this. Sometimes they wait for four years before charging someone, and then suddenly charge them. I'm not afraid to speak out against this kind of thing'.
Here the words of the Nobel laureate, Amartya Sen, seem the most appropriate postscript to the sordid tale of the death of Vignes Mourti:
The heart of democracy beats only with the participation of all citizens in exercising their right - first for inclusion in the political agenda issues of concern to them and second in the political process. Democracy becomes dysfunctional when the bureaucracy, the judiciary, the legislature, the private sector, the police and the military all use their power to enrich themselves and advance their own interests at the expense of civil society. Laws not withstanding, corruption undermines the rule of law.
19Hero Hanged
Shanmugam Murugesus hanging in May 2005 sparked unprecedented public discussion in Singapore. From April to August that year, local activists organised a public form, petitions, vigils and other events to campaign against the death penalty. But it wasn't easy. The authorities, using undercover police, did everything they could to thwart the campaign's vain bid to save the young man's life. Amnesty International sent a special representative to address the public form. A worried government prevented him from speaking and banned the use of the condemned man's face on posters on the grounds that it would 'glorify' an executed convict. Shanmugam was convicted of trafficking 1.03 kilograms of cannabis. A former jet ski champion and army regular, he was a struggling divorced father of twin teenage sons. His sons pleaded for him in leaflets they distributed in a first-ever public appeal in a capital crime. His mother made a tearful plea for him at the forum in heartbreaking poignancy which stunned forum participants. She also made an appeal that was captured on video.
Before he was sentenced to death in the High Court, Shanmugam pleaded for clemency saying he 'was in desperate financial circumstances, which led me to commit the offence which I wholeheartedly regret. The financial burdens on me were heavy as I had to look after my sons, my nieces, nephews and my mother who is in poor health and unable to work'. His statement of regret proved futile. Enter again Ravi, who was still recovering emotionally, physically and financially following the Vignes Mourthi case. He did not charge the family a cent for his service and was still repaying $7,000 for the funeral expenses. His efforts did not make him popular with the Singapore government either. He had brought much foreign media attention while valiantly fighting to save the life of Vignes Mourthi, the kind of critical attention the government does not like. It made them look bad again in the eyes of other countries. As a result, Ravi also saw some of his longtime, very well-paying clients drop him as their solicitor because they feared that he was now viewed as an 'anti-establishment figure' who would reflect negatively on them. The Vignes Mourthi case was the first of its kind for Ravi. He normally dealt in areas of the law which paid well - civil litigation and intellectual property matters. And it made him reflect on what had really been accomplished. 'I hoped to get the people of Singapore thinking about the critical issues in the case', he said, 'to widen public awareness of how the judicial system here worked and also to get large numbers of Singaporeans asking if this was indeed a system that needs no reforms or refinements. The whole question of executions was of major importance to me as was the question of who gets executed here and why'. He was warmed one day by the visit of an Indian woman who had read of the Vignes Mourthi case and came to see him to express her concern that someone might be hanged wrongly and give some comfort and support to his distraught family. There was another person who had read of the Vignes Mourthi case. His name was Shanmugam Murugesu and he wanted to speak to Ravi.
Shanmugam, a Singaporean, was in custody. He was facing the death penalty, too, having been arrested on 30 August 2003, just four weeks before Vignes Mourthi was executed. Shanmugam had been arrested at the Tuas Checkpoint known as the second link joining Singapore to Malaysia with six packets of cannabis weighing 1,029 grams and 880 grams of cannabis mixture, over double the legal limit for mere possession in Singapore. He admitted he was a small time dealer but vehemently denied that he was transporting anywhere near the amount they found tucked away on his motorcycle. According to court records of his statements he maintained that he had brought only one packet of cannabis into Singapore weighing only 237 grams. He was not a stupid man and was aware of the consequences of being found in possession of more than that amount. He revealed his Malaysian supplier as an ethnic Chinese man named Mok who often encouraged him to traffic more despite his constant refusals. He
believed that the other five packets had been hidden in his bike by Mok without his knowledge. To support his claim he even gave police the name and telephone number of Mok hoping they would investigate him. But all they did was to call the number and accept Mok's word that he had never even heard of Shanmugam. He gave police all other kinds of information but they seemingly did not believe his story, especially that he had always dealt in small amounts of cannabis and that Mok always tried to get him
to take on bigger assignments. As Mok was apparently never found let alone being charged as an accomplice, I was drawn to this issue again following my secret meeting with a former Central Narcotics Bureau officer. This man revealed to me that one of their practices, as undercover agents, was to encourage small time dealers to traffic much more than they wanted to, thus ending up on the gallows. So was 'Mok' an undercover agent and if so did he deliberately act to send Shanmugam to the gallows? It was while he was in a cell in Queenstown Remand Prison that Shanmugam heard about Ravi's valiant though futile fight to save Vignes Mourthi's life.
Until his world began falling apart, resulting in his arrest, Shanmugam was something of a local hero. He had grown up in poverty, the eldest of a struggling Indian Singaporean family. Shanmugam was determined to make something of himself. But he was not a good scholar, failed secondary school and began falling into bad company. His mother, Letchumi, a traditional conservative Tamil mother, took charge of his life and persuaded him to start over. He went back to school, his grades improved and eventually was accepted into Boys' School, something like the equivalent of a military academy. It was a fast track to the army which is where Shanmugam ended up four years later. He had a solid record in his near ten years on active service ended up with the rank of sergeant and seemed destined for the officers' ranks and a long career in the military. However, his marriage at the age of 21 served as a brake to his advancement in the army. Then he found himself the father to twin sons. The demands on his time in the military were not good for a man with a family of four. After eight years in the army as a combat engineer, Shanmugam made an even more admired career move. He became a sports star. He had always shone in his athletic pursuits but what he loved most was water jet skiing. He was so skilled and daring that he even represented Singapore in the 1995 World Championship Jet Ski Finals in Lake Havasu, Arizona, USA, bringing home a medal, giving a huge and much-needed boost to Singapore's international image as a sports nation. He was also involved in motorbike racing, deep-sea diving, boating and rope climbing, all of them risky pursuits. As a result Shanmugam had many female admirers and friends but he never broke his wedding vows. His clean reputation also resulted in him being appointed to the prestigious Singapore Sports Council where he served for four years.
Once a Jolly Hangman Page 19