Fatal Convictions

87

Alex’s team shared lunch at a nearby Mexican restaurant, and Alex had to use every ounce of restraint to keep it from becoming a premature celebration. Shannon and Ramona had been in court to see Alex’s masterful cross-examination of Fatih Mahdi. As a potential witness, Nara had been sequestered but was now getting the blow-by-blow.

Technically, Nara was still a potential witness and should not have been hearing about Mahdi’s testimony. But Alex wasn’t worried. He had already decided that it wouldn’t be necessary for Nara to take the stand now. Why take unnecessary chances? They had already created reasonable doubt.

So Alex half-smiled as Shannon and Ramona recounted the more interesting parts of Mahdi’s testimony and described the look on his face when Alex had plunked the transcripts of his telephone calls in front of him.

“Let’s not give him a big head,” Ramona said, referring to her grandson. “We’ve still got a long way to go.”

“Yeah, this case is far from over,” Alex said. In truth, he was enjoying the accolades. He was especially pleased that Nara was hearing all this.

After lunch, Alex invited Nara to ride back to the courthouse with him, while Shannon hitched a ride with Ramona. He wanted a few minutes alone with Nara so he could talk to her about not testifying.

“This isn’t about protecting you from Hezbollah,” Alex said. “Even if your safety weren’t a factor, I wouldn’t call you as a witness. Not after Mahdi’s testimony. You don’t take chances when you’re winning.”

Nara had a lot of questions, but she eventually seemed satisfied with Alex’s advice. “Does this mean I can watch the trial now?” she asked.

Alex had already considered this. He expected Taj Deegan to rest her case that same afternoon. He would then give his opening statement, and it would be better now than it would have been at the start of the case. He definitely wanted Nara there to hear it.

“I don’t see why not,” Alex said.

Nara reached over and put a hand on Alex’s forearm. “I’m glad you’re my father’s lawyer.”***

Rosenthal was noted for long lunch breaks, but on Friday he set a record. The lunch recess had begun at 12:30, and the judge didn’t appear on the bench until 2:15. He made no excuses for being late. But then again, he was the judge. Everyone knew that judges were never late.

“Ms. Deegan, your next witness,” Rosenthal said.

“The commonwealth would like to recall Fatih Mahdi.”

Alex felt a stab of anxiety. He liked the way Mahdi’s testimony had ended before lunch. Taj Deegan was up to something.

Mahdi walked into the well of the courtroom with downcast eyes. “Your prior affirmation still applies,” Judge Rosenthal reminded him, “under penalties of perjury.”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Mahdi climbed into the stand again and hunkered forward. He looked like he had been waterboarded over the break.

Taj Deegan positioned herself in the center of the courtroom and interlaced her fingers. She pondered the wall just above the judge and then looked at the witness. “Mr. Mahdi, you testified earlier as to why you stopped criticizing Mr. Mobassar’s reforms about six months before your wife died. Do you recall that testimony?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You said that you decided your friendship was more important than opposing Mr. Mobassar’s reforms. Do you recall that?”

Alex stood. “I object, Judge. She’s just rephrasing his testimony.”

“I’ll allow it,” Rosenthal said. The way he said it made Alex think that the judge knew something Alex didn’t.

“I think I said that I didn’t want to lose our friendship or my wife,” Mahdi said.

“You’re right; I stand corrected,” Taj said calmly. “But, Mr. Mahdi, are those the only reasons you stopped opposing Mr. Mobassar?”

The witness shifted in his seat and glanced at Taj Deegan. He looked back down and studied his hands. “No. Those were not the only reasons.”

“Please explain to the jury what happened six months before your wife died that caused you to stop criticizing Mr. Mobassar.”

Mahdi looked at the jury. He inhaled and blew out a breath. “I had a meeting with Mr. Mobassar. It was when the rift in the mosque was growing severe and our disagreement was very intense. Mr. Mobassar urged me to support him as my religious leader in the mosque. He said we were like brothers and that brothers should not treat each other this way.”

“Is that all he said?” Deegan prompted.

“No. He told me that we had been through a lot together and that he had protected me in the past in ways I did not know. He told me…” Mahdi paused and frowned. After a few seconds, he found the courage to continue. “When I was a young man, around twenty years old or so, Lebanon was in the middle of its civil war. I had nothing but contempt and hatred for the Christians. I was a warrior for Allah.

“During that war, Khalid Mobassar’s wife lost a brother. The Christian Phalange killed him and disemboweled him. I was furious and wanted revenge. Ghaniyah was in mourning and equally furious. But Khalid reacted differently. He wanted to work through diplomatic solutions and broker an end to the violence. He called it ‘pointless bloodshed.’ It put great strains on his marriage.”

Mahdi looked at Khalid Mobassar, and Alex felt his own heart in his throat. The same witness who had been despised by the jury this morning was now in some type of confessional mode. And the jury was hanging on his every word.

“Khalid’s wife turned to me in her pain and anger. I was young, not yet married. I slept with her.”

The revelation caused a few gasps and a buzz of excited murmuring in the courtroom. Judge Rosenthal rapped the gavel. “Silence!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Alex tried to gauge the impact on his client. Khalid looked stunned, staring at the witness, his gaze vacant. Then he looked down at the table.

“Did you think that Khalid Mobassar knew about this?” Taj Deegan asked.

“No, I didn’t. Not until that meeting six months before Ja’dah died. During that meeting, he told me that he had protected me in the past in ways I would never know. He said-”

“So the record is clear,” Taj interrupted, “tell us who you’re referring to when you say ‘he.’”

“Khalid Mobassar, the defendant.”

“Thank you. Please continue.”

Fatih hesitated for a second while he recaptured his train of thought. “Mr. Mobassar told me that he knew about my affair with Ghaniyah. He said that he had kept it to himself all these years out of his great respect for our friendship and his desire to stay married to his wife.”

“That’s a lie,” Khalid whispered to Alex. He had a hand on Alex’s elbow. “This whole thing is a lie. Ghaniyah would never do that.”

Alex held up a hand. He needed to hear the testimony.

“What did you do?” Taj asked.

“I was stunned. I did not deny the affair and I did not admit it. I thanked him for his friendship. We embraced. I told him that I considered him closer than a brother. I told him that he was a better man than I was. I left with a deep appreciation for the pain he must have felt at such betrayal and at his nobility for keeping this to himself.”

“That’s not true,” Khalid whispered. “None of it.”

“Is that why you stopped criticizing Khalid’s teaching at the mosque?” Taj asked.

Fatih nodded. “Yes, it is. I realized that our friendship was more important. I realized that he could have destroyed my reputation but chose not to. I decided the least I could do was stop attacking his.”

Taj Deegan appeared to be thinking about this for a few seconds, but Alex knew she was just letting the information sink in. In five minutes of testimony, the entire complexion of the case had changed. For Alex, the lunchtime celebration suddenly seemed like a distant memory.

“Why did you really go to Khalid Mobassar for advice when you discovered that your wife had left the Muslim faith?”

“Because I knew he had dealt with his own wife’s unfaithfulness. My situation wasn’t exactly the same, but it wasn’t completely different either. I felt rejected and humiliated. I thought Khalid could help me work through those issues. Instead, I believe he saw it as an opportunity to exact revenge and advance his agenda.”

Alex leaped to his feet. “Objection! That’s just raw speculation.”

“The jury will disregard the last part of the witness’s answer,” Judge Rosenthal ruled.

“Mr. Madison and Ms. Reese have been asking several different witnesses whether they have any idea as to why Khalid Mobassar would send text messages ordering an honor killing from his own phone. Do you have any information about that?”

Alex was up again. “Objection. That calls for speculation too.”

“It might,” Judge Rosenthal conceded, “but Ms. Deegan is correct. You’ve been asking the same question throughout the case. Objection overruled.”

Mahdi glanced toward Khalid Mobassar, then turned back to Taj Deegan. “Mr. Mobassar knew that I was ashamed of what I had done in 1980 and didn’t want it made public. He probably believed that I would never tell police that I had a meeting with him to discuss my concerns about Ja’dah.”

Alex stood again, hands spread. This is ridiculous. “Judge, that’s pure speculation. How can he possibly know what my client was thinking?”

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, please disregard the witness’s answer. He can only testify as to facts within his own personal knowledge.”

Alex sat down but knew it was a hollow victory. The jury was thinking the same thoughts that Fatih Mahdi had just expressed.

“Why didn’t you tell the jury about this during your testimony this morning?” Deegan asked. She obviously knew that Alex would hammer that issue on cross-examination, so she wanted to put it on the table first.

“I hoped it would not be necessary. I am deeply ashamed of what I have done. But after my testimony this morning, I realized that the man who ordered my wife’s death might go free if I didn’t come forward and tell the truth.”

“No further questions,” Taj Deegan said.