Too much power seemed to show Álvaro Uribe in his years after his release. Annoying tumults at his feet, an emperor aura immune to the blood of his lapel and two recognized faces of jurisprudence always at his sides Granados and Lombana. Between the noise and the scandal they slipped away without prominence to enter the halls and offices where there are hundreds of files and files that threaten the freedom of their employer.
They moved files, signed minutes, greeted the doctor of the day and favor, and went out with dark glasses in the sun to affirm that all the processes were around slander, and that nothing concrete could still mean a truth. The witnesses spoke in their name and the traitors, predictable anomalies in a cell two by two, ended up recognizing ambitions and meanness.
But the weight and severity of the files began to overflow the walls, and the traitorous witnesses finally recognized that their regrets were also pressured by gifts and subsidies larger than those confessed in the previous statement, and the responses of their two official lawyers they were increasingly suspicious, more fictional between rhetoric and arguing.
So the man involved between the shadow and the fog appeared when the affair was dangerous, and with Francisco Franco’s leisurely and sweet voice he delivered a sermon wrinkling his face of indignation and grief over the dark days that the high courts had taken. The rite of apparitions and shows of complaining and threats followed a rhythm that would also slowly fall between the predictable, the dangerous and the pathetic,
It seemed that there was nothing left but the last resort of the favors of Diego Cadena, a trach lawyer who moved very well between Combita and La Picota, and knew precisely the murmurs of the most celebrated inmates to strengthen testimonies and improve apparently lost processes.
His original method of secret subsidies turned out to be increasingly blunt, and he could now use them in his favor in his best-known representation. A jump into the microphones show that would make him popular, a prestigious lawyer by day and gangster by night, a dandi that came out of the suburb to say with imposition.
Finally that he represented a former president of the republic with incredible new witnesses. Everything seemed to be definitely fine now until a new test reigns in the summary revealed his voice confessing his methods and flaunting in the low worlds.
According to the rite of inconvenience, the attorney has again resigned to deny another of his own in his inquiry for bribery and procedural fraud and has recommended, perhaps, the same advice that he recommended to his entourage when justice began to capture them Chain has taken a plane with unknown direction.