It is striking how strong her accent is, even though she has been away from her native Almendralejo for many years. Perhaps it is because the person she speaks to most is herself, during long days of study straddling new evidence, doctrines and files. Because if there is anything that is preached about Judge Ángela Murillo, it is her dedication and if there is anything that weighs on her, it is not finishing what she started. Two buttons: The year in which Rodrigo Rato was tried for the Bankia case did not have a summer. Last Friday, he turned 72, the limit for him of forced retirement. But the judgment in the Villarejo case will not be left hanging. These are big words.
Murillo entered the judicial career in 1980 and made his debut at the Lora del Río Court of Instruction (Seville). He was 25 years old and some confused him at the beginning with the granddaughter of the titular judge. In a world of men, he jumped from Vélez-Málaga and Onteniente to San Sebastián and from there, to the Provincial Court of Madridwhere she soon became president of one of the sections, until in 1990 she was given a task that she remembers as thankless: delegated inspector of the General Council of the Judiciary. They say that they had to review the activity of a judge who was going to be sanctioned for having too many cases. And when he confirmed that the man was juggling and had managed, against all odds, to complete a large volume of work, what he proposed was not a punishment but a recognition, to everyone’s surprise.
Three years later, he would enter the judiciary that would end up defining his career and on which everyone agrees that He dedicated his life. Murillo was the first woman to enter the Criminal Chamber of the National Court and the first woman to preside over a section, the Fourth. The list of cases judged gives an overview of major crime in Spain, from the drug trafficking operation of Nécora to the Tándem case, through the activity of ETA, with specific attacks and ramifications such as that of Ekin.
It also gives an idea of how to build the character of a woman who, presiding over the court, inspires almost fear, makes people laugh in the corridors and exudes authority in the offices. And always talking about money. “After 30 years at the National Court, Angela is an institution. And what he says is ‘the word of God’, for better or for worse,” they comment from their entourage.
It is his words, spoken from the presidency of the court – Murillo does not indulge in the press or walk on the carpets of the judicial world – that have earned him some headlines in recent years and sometimes also consequences. An open microphone on the podium lets you hear the phrase heard in the room where the trial of ETA leader Txapote is taking place: “They laugh, those bastards.” He had to move away because he seemed biased.
It was a mistake. When he responded to the request to drink water raised on the bench by the current leader of Bildu Arnaldo Otegi with the statement “for me, as if he drinks wine”, it was deliberate. Also when, faced with his silence in one of the questions about the reconstruction of Batasuna that he was carrying out, he told him: “I already knew he was not going to answer”. This ended up costing the National Court a reprimand from Strasbourg and the cancellation of the trial in the Bateragune case. Those were big words.
“When he looks at you… he impresses”
These are exceptions in a career full of convictions that the Supreme Court would later confirm, but they are there, coexisting in the film archives of their trials with that question he asked drug trafficker Laureano Oubiña when, after believing him to be devoted to hashish and not cocaine, he found himself on the bench. “Now, what do you tell me, Mr. Oubiña?” he said. The last miura he dealt with was Commissioner José Manuel Villarejo. For the newspaper Biblioteca, his veto remains to question the accused, as he wished, at the same time as his lawyer: “No way!”
“Angèle is Living History of the National Court. “She is the last barrier against ETA,” says a prosecutor who has shared a courtroom with her over the years. She maintains that this simple and unpretentious way of expressing herself in trials that characterizes her does not hide the fact that “if there was a person who respected the public prosecutor, it was her.”
In Anti-Corruption, they do not have the same impression since the Bankia trial that resulted in the acquittal of the 34 accused in a sentence that undermined the “glamorous” lack of evidence with which they had arrived at the hearing. It is said that in an elevator, the prosecutor personally reproached him for the acquittals. “That hurt Angela a lot.” says a source. The Supreme Court ruled in Murillo’s favor. Villarejo’s story is even more attached to him. The Appeals Chamber annulled the sentence for lack of motivation and ordered that it be redone. “It must have hurt her, that’s why she’s working on her reasoning,” says someone who knows her well.
“No computers”
“She has a great sense of humor, it’s a lot of fun to go to trial with her,” comments another prosecutor, whom the magistrate joked by calling “a father.” “She’s not stupid and when she looks at you… she’s impressive,” says a lawyer. He talks about a look at Sala “like that of a lioness.” “It’s endearing,” say those who greet her. “Don’t be fooled,” adds another source, who points out that with Murillo “Respect is earned every day” and it is not advisable to challenge his authority, even in deliberations. “Ah,” said another person, “don’t ask him anything about computers.”
Murillo, who lost the battle against digital signatures, has computers on his list of pending issues. That and finishing the piano degree he gave up in fifth grade will be a priority when the gown is put back in its case. Learning to live, too, of course. This woman He gave 44 years of his life personal to his career, which is justice.
These are big words.
