Authors: Randy Singer
77
Alex wore a white shirt and yellow tie with his suit for his opening statement. The textbooks said not to alienate the jury by the way you dress.
Taj Deegan apparently didn’t read the same textbooks. The prosecutor displayed a classy nonconformist streak—pressed gray dress slacks with a wide leg, a hunter green suit jacket, gold chandelier earrings, and layered gold chains. Alex admired the attitude. If the jury didn’t like it—tough. Taj did, and that was all that mattered.
When she stood to give her opening, she took a sip of water and walked without notes to the jury box. All eyes were on her, and the prosecutor seemed to like it that way.
“Every year, dozens of fires are set by volunteer firefighters. John Orr, for example, headed a large California arson squad and had a reputation for uncanny instincts about how fires started. It turned out that it wasn’t instinct at all. It was inside knowledge. Orr set the fires himself.”
Alex had been so surprised by Taj Deegan’s opening remarks that he didn’t object until Shannon leaned across Khalid and prompted him.
“I object, Your Honor. If I’m not mistaken, John Orr is not even on trial here.”
Judge Rosenthal looked as confused as Alex. “Sustained,” he said. “Let’s stick to the facts of
this
case.”
Taj Deegan looked at him and smiled. “Sorry, Your Honor. I just thought it might help to provide the jury with a little context.”
She turned back to the jury, and they were even more attentive than before. “Why would a firefighter start a fire?” she asked. And then quickly added, “And what’s that got to do with
this
case?”
Alex half-rose to object, but Taj veered in a new direction before he got the words out.
“The defendant, Khalid Mobassar, ordered the beheading of Ja’dah Fatima Mahdi and the execution of her friend Martin Burns,” Taj said. She had that authoritative prosecutor’s voice going now, deep for a woman, a voice that said,
Trust me.
“The commonwealth will present overwhelming evidence linking the defendant to these gruesome murders. We will show you text messages from the defendant ordering the killings, text messages from the killer’s phone to the defendant confirming the killings, money diverted from the defendant’s mosque to pay for the killings, and an Internet search from the defendant’s computer to find the place for the killings. It’s like he gave us a digital blueprint . . . digital DNA, if you will. All that evidence points to only one person.”
Taj Deegan paused for a moment so that the jury could take all of this in. She half-turned and looked at Khalid. Alex had coached his client to meet her stare and not blink.
“That evidence alone would be enough to convict Mr. Mobassar beyond a reasonable doubt,” she said, turning back to the jury. “I will go into that evidence in great detail in a few minutes. But that evidence doesn’t answer the question of
why
he did this. And though the commonwealth doesn’t need to answer the
why
question in order for you to convict the defendant of conspiracy to commit murder, it sure helps when you’re trying to fit all the pieces together.
“I like to use the analogy of a puzzle.” Taj walked in front of the jury box now, a little chat with her friends who had promised to do justice in this case. “The various pieces of evidence are like the pieces of the puzzle. And when you fit them together, they’ll form a picture of the defendant. But if we understand motive, it’s like looking at the picture on the puzzle box. It helps us understand where the pieces go and how they relate. So let me talk to you first about that puzzle box.
Why
would somebody order such gruesome crimes?”
Taj had everyone’s attention, including Alex’s, though he tried hard to look disinterested. He scribbled a few notes, the picture of calm. Inside, his stomach was in knots.
“The defendant is an imam at the Islamic Learning Center in Norfolk, Virginia. He is an outspoken critic of fundamentalist Muslims. In fact, he has a very important book that he was about to publish when these honor killings occurred. That book represents the culmination of his entire life’s work. It is his attempt to reform the Muslim faith, a religion that claims 1.5 billion adherents.
“When I sit down, I suspect that Mr. Madison is going to stand up and tell you that his client could not possibly have ordered these murders. That you should ignore the evidence against him because the defendant is not the type of religious leader who would ever order the gruesome act of beheading someone just because they converted to Christianity.”
Taj twisted her face as if she was deep in thought. “And on the surface, that makes a certain amount of sense. Mr. Mobassar
is
a reformer. He detests violence in the name of Islam. But think about it for a moment on a deeper level. In fact, let me show you something.”
Taj walked back to her counsel table and picked up a few books that Alex recognized.
“When we executed a search warrant at Mr. Mobassar’s house, we found some fascinating books in his library. There were books on the lives of reformers like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Gandhi and Nelson Mandela. The defendant had marked these books and dog-eared the pages. He apparently saw himself as someone who stood in their tradition—a reformer of the highest order.”
Taj took one of the books to the jury box, showing the jury some highlighted portions. “We’ll introduce these into evidence, and you can look for yourselves. You’ll want to take special note of the sections Mr. Mobassar highlighted. He was apparently fascinated with the fact that these men were persecuted and imprisoned for their efforts. And when that happened, it jump-started their movements, giving them a louder megaphone so their ideas could spread faster. In other words, a little controversy can catapult a reformer onto the front pages of the papers and the feature slots on the television news shows. Just like it takes a fire for a firefighter to become a hero.”
Again, Alex wanted to object. But if he did so now, it would only highlight her point.
“Unfortunately for Mr. Mobassar, there were a few things he didn’t know. He didn’t know that his phone was being tapped under the Patriot Act. He didn’t know that the Internet searches he conducted on his computer were under surveillance as well. He didn’t know that his past association with terrorists allowed the government to scrutinize his every move.”
As Deegan continued, Alex lost focus on what she was saying. Instead, he was frantically trying to process the implications of her masterful opening statement.
In five short minutes, she had just gutted the entire theme of his case. In his opening, Alex was going to emphasize that Khalid was a true reformer. But somehow, Taj Deegan had now twisted the logic so that Khalid’s penchant for reform had become his worst enemy. The more Alex emphasized Khalid’s desire to reform the Muslim faith, the more he was playing into Deegan’s hands.
“The defendant knew that Ja’dah Fatima Mahdi’s husband had strong fundamentalist views about the roles of women in the Islamic faith,” Deegan continued. “They were views that the defendant detested. And he knew that Fatih Mahdi would be an easy target to blame.”
Taj paused, looked down, and gathered her thoughts. She delivered her conclusion full force, looking the jury straight in the eye, summoning a silent pact that she would do her part for justice if they did theirs.
“Firefighters don’t start fires; they put them out. And reformers don’t commit honor killings; they rail against them.
“So why would the defendant order the honor killing of someone in his own mosque, especially when that someone was the wife of a friend? Because every reform movement needs a hero. And every hero needs a controversy. And sometimes, it’s necessary to sacrifice the lives of a few in order to change the course of history.”
She let the statement hang out there for a moment and then returned to her seat, heels clicking against the hardwood floor.
Judge Rosenthal turned to Alex. “Does the defense wish to present an opening statement?”
78
Alex felt slightly disoriented. It wasn’t like this was his first trial, but it was certainly the first time he had been so terribly wrong about the other side’s theory of the case. Taj Deegan had turned the trial on its head. The opening statement that Alex had carefully scripted, almost memorized, no longer made sense.
He had expected Deegan to hammer Khalid’s alleged ties with Hezbollah. He had thought Deegan would try to paint Khalid as a closet radical. Alex’s opening would emphasize that Khalid was a true reformer. But now, Taj had preempted Alex’s theme. He felt like he had been sharpening his sword for days just so he could hand it to Taj Deegan to use against him—to carve him up.
“Does defense counsel wish to give an opening statement?” Rosenthal asked for the second time.
“Could we take a brief recess, Your Honor?”
Deegan’s opening had been surprisingly short for a murder case, and any other judge would have scoffed at Alex’s request. But this was Judge Rosenthal, and Alex could tell by the look on his face that he was craving his sixth cigarette of the day.
“Ten minutes,” Rosenthal said, cracking his gavel.
As soon as he left, Alex turned to Shannon. “What do I do now?”
“Stick with the plan,” Shannon said. “We can’t throw our entire opening out the window just because the prosecutor changed her theory of the case.”
“Then help me revise it.”
For the next ten minutes, they worked furiously on the revisions. Alex scratched through text and made handwritten notes in the margins. He tore a page from a legal pad and inserted a whole section. But as the recess ended, he was more confused than he had been before. Now they were talking out of both sides of their mouths—Khalid Mobassar was a committed reformer but not so passionate that he would set up something like this. Yes, he had spent years writing his book, but no, he certainly wouldn’t order honor killings just to gain nationwide attention.
As the jury shuffled in and Rosenthal called the court to order, Alex still felt unsettled. He thought back to his days as a pastor. Whenever he gave sermons with this level of ambivalence, they always bombed. How could a jury believe what Alex was saying when he couldn’t figure it out himself?
“Mr. Madison . . . ,” Judge Rosenthal prompted.
Alex stood. “We would like to reserve our opening until the beginning of the defendant’s case.”
“What?”
Shannon whispered.
Although defendants technically had the right to reserve their opening until they put on their own evidence, it was unheard of for a lawyer to actually do so. No decent defense attorney wanted the jury to hear from the prosecution for several days before the defense lawyer even put his theme out there. Yet Alex felt in his gut that it was the right thing to do.
“If that’s what defense counsel wishes.” Judge Rosenthal turned to a stunned Taj Deegan. “You may call your first witness, Ms. Deegan.”
Alex sat down, and Shannon leaned over the back of Khalid, who was seated between them. “I hope you’re ready to explain this to Nara when we break for lunch,” she whispered.
Nara, like all potential witnesses, was not allowed in the courtroom until she testified. Alex hadn’t thought about how she might react, but it was too late to consider that now. She would understand. She would have to.
“The commonwealth calls Dr. Marnya Davidson.”
Dr. Davidson walked into the courtroom, took the oath, and settled into the witness stand with the authority of someone who had done this hundreds of times before. She glanced quickly at Alex and gave him a nod, as if she looked forward to his cross-examination. Alex pulled his legal pad closer and started taking notes.
Davidson’s testimony mirrored what she had said during the preliminary hearing except that she added a few bells and whistles. When Taj Deegan trotted out the autopsy photos, Alex offered to stipulate to the cause of death. Deegan whirled and looked at him, wise to his ploys. “Unless you’re also willing to stipulate that the defendant ordered the killings, I think I’m entitled to show the jury the photographs,” she said.
She turned to Judge Rosenthal. “Your Honor, these are not theoretical killings; these are real victims murdered in the most cowardly and cold-blooded way imaginable. While it gives me no pleasure to present these photographs, the jury needs to know all of the facts in this case, including the gruesome nature of the crimes. Plus, I intend to show that these murders are related to other honor killings, thereby proving a pattern of conduct that makes it clear the murders were religiously motivated.”
Alex had just sat down when Taj Deegan mentioned other honor killings. He jumped back up as if his seat were electrically charged. “I object, Judge! That has no place in this trial!”
To Alex’s great dismay, the jurors were leaning forward. Dr. Davidson had an eccentric personality that had already intrigued them. And now the lawyers were adding yet another twist.
“Other honor killings.”
This case was getting juicier by the minute.
“Approach the bench,” Rosenthal ordered.
On the way up, Alex glared at Deegan. She knew
exactly
what she was doing. Even if the judge sustained Alex’s objection, she had planted the specter of the other honor killings in the minds of the jury.
“I can’t believe you stooped to that,” Alex whispered to her, just out of earshot of the judge.
“Spare me,” Deegan shot back. “We both know he did it.”
The lawyers huddled around Rosenthal’s bench and engaged in a furious argument. Deegan wanted to ask Dr. Davidson about two additional honor killings that had been committed using the same sword. “The exact same sword, Judge. Under the rules of evidence, other crimes are admissible if they show a pattern of conduct.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Alex countered. “Our client hasn’t even been charged with those killings. Plus, even if the commonwealth could prove that the murders were all committed by the same person, how does that prove a pattern of conduct by
our
client? Nobody’s saying that our client actually carried out the beheadings.”
As the lawyers argued back and forth, their voices rising with each volley, Rosenthal decided it was time for another break. He announced a fifteen-minute recess so that he could study the issue in more detail. Alex watched the jury shuffle back into the jury room, knowing that the main thing on their mind was exactly how many honor killings the defendant had ordered. And whether they would get to hear about them.
“Now would be a good time to go out in the hallway and tell Nara that you waived your opening statement,” Shannon said to Alex.
“Later,” Alex said.
* * *
After a two-cigarette recess, Rosenthal came back to the bench recharged. Before he called the jury back into the courtroom, he announced his ruling. “Mr. Madison is right. The law requires more than a pattern of conduct. It requires a pattern of conduct that is unique to the defendant, and the commonwealth hasn’t shown that here. For example, it could be that the defendant and another party just use the same ‘triggerman,’ so to speak. The fact that the sword is the same reflects on the triggerman’s pattern of conduct, not the defendant’s.”
Alex requested a curative instruction, and Rosenthal promised that he would tell the jury to disregard the question they heard before the break. As if that would make everything better.
When the jury returned, Rosenthal mumbled something about disregarding the last question asked by the commonwealth’s attorney. “As for defense counsel’s objection about the admissibility of the photographs, I’m overruling that,” Rosenthal said.
To Alex’s surprise, everyone managed to keep his or her breakfast down while Taj Deegan displayed blowups from the crime scene and autopsy. Juror 5 looked pretty pale, and Alex thought she might pass out. Juror 10 had to put her hand over her mouth at least twice. But nobody hurled on the spot, a minor victory for the defense.
Just before lunch, Taj Deegan finished her direct examination of Dr. Davidson, and Judge Rosenthal again turned to Alex.
“Does defense counsel have any questions?”
“Not at this time, Your Honor.”
When the judge and jury had left the courtroom, Shannon let her frustrations show. “A great morning for the defense team,” she said sarcastically.
The deputies were coming over to take Khalid to lockup, and Alex felt the need to reassure his client. He put a hand on Khalid’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’re saving our ammo for when it counts.”
“I trust you,” Khalid said.
At least somebody does,
Alex thought.