Mess up as a prosecutor and the consequences can be catastrophic, allowing accused prisoners to slip through the net, escape conviction or sentence, and sometimes dodge a trial completely.

Last week I told the story of a charge sheet reflecting just one count of rape even though the child involved said the accused had raped her repeatedly – a claim backed by medical evidence.

When criminal trials come unstuck because of technical failures by the prosecution, the public ought to worry whether justice has indeed been achieved.

This week I was most concerned by a case which indicated mistakes by the prosecution over such fundamental issues that you have to wonder about training – and whether those who make the errors will be brought to book.

It looks like an attractive double-storey piece of real estate, but Beau Vallon police station has an ugly reputation.

It serves the most popular beach on Mahé, largest of the Seychelles islands, which, judging from comments on the travel site Trip Advisor, most visitors regard it as some kind of paradise. Locals, on the other hand, take a more suspicious view.

This is the story of a judge, a Turkish grande dame, a rich young man, an ostentation of peacocks – and a cherry tree.

At the centre of my tale, one of a dispute between two property owners united in their love of an enormous cherry tree, is that most eccentric of South African judges, Nigel Willis.

This week, the first of the year, I’ve spent hours reading the most recent judgments of the Swazi appeal court only to be sickened by the enormity of the rape problem in that country. But while the drive for tougher rape sentences in South Africa came from the legislature, in Swaziland those rumblings come from the bench.

Rape and the correct sentence to impose on rapists was one of the dominating issues during this most recent appeal court session. But while these decisions may be useful, they were made against a complex background not mentioned by the judges.