“And I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” Alex said. “I had to twist your arm to represent the Mobassars in the first place. You didn’t even want to take Ghaniyah’s case, and now you want to represent her husband for an honor killing?”
“I’m not one to cut and run just because the commonwealth’s attorney is trying to bring a little heat.” Shannon’s voice was insistent, though she kept the volume low.
“This isn’t about cutting and running.” Alex felt his blood pressure rising. “We can’t put our whole practice at risk for the sake of one client.”
“This is exactly what our practice is supposed to be about,” Shannon responded. “It’s number nine on the list.”
She was referring, Alex knew, to his grandfather’s list. The things that made Madison and Associates unique. The ninth item read A lawyer’s highest duty is to defend an innocent client.
“That’s exactly my point,” Alex said. “He’s not innocent, Shannon. How can he be innocent?”
“You don’t even know him, Alex. I’ve researched this guy. Spent the afternoon at his house with his wife.” Shannon was talking faster now, her voice still hushed. Alex had heard this tone before and knew she wasn’t going to change her mind.
“I’m going to be at the arraignment tomorrow standing right next to Mr. Mobassar,” Shannon continued. “I would really like to have you there with me. But whether or not you show up, somebody’s got to argue for this man’s bail.” She let the words hang for a moment before she put the knife in. “Some of us still believe in the presumption of innocence.”
“So now you’re the big crusader,” Alex said sarcastically. “If it wasn’t sad, I might enjoy the irony.”
Shannon sighed and apparently decided she had better things to do than go on like this all afternoon. “Right now, the big crusader is just one woman helping another woman clean up her place. If you’ve got some time, we could use your help.”
Alex blew out a deep breath and tried to match her level of composure. “All right. Stay with him through the bond hearing, and then he can get new counsel.”
“You aren’t listening to a word I’m saying,” Shannon insisted. Alex had never heard her quite so dogmatic about taking a case. “Ghaniyah needs our help. And I, for one, believe in her husband. Plus, her civil case could be worth a million dollars or more based on her positive recognition of the truck I photographed earlier. I plan to be at Khalid’s arraignment tomorrow morning. You can do whatever you want.”
He hated it when his partner became so unreasonable. But there was no use discussing it further right now. “Unfortunately, I’ll be busy,” Alex said. “Somebody’s got to stay in the office and talk the other clients out of leaving.”
31
Khalid Mobassar’s arraignment was scheduled for 9:00 a.m. in Virginia Beach General District Court. Despite his promise to stay away, Alex pulled into the parking lot at 8:45 and had to walk nearly half a mile in the muggy heat and drizzling rain to the courthouse. By the time he navigated his way through the metal detectors and rode the escalators to General District Courtroom No. 3, it was 8:59.
The bailiff was turning people away at the door, but he let Alex through because he was part of Khalid’s legal team. Attorneys, spectators, and reporters filled the benches and lined the walls. Alex pushed his way to the front and found an empty spot against the side wall. Shannon was seated in the second row, waiting her turn and studying some documents. Alex managed to get the attention of the older gentleman sitting next to her. When Shannon saw Alex, her face lit up and she slid past others in the row to come talk with him.
“Thanks for coming,” she said.
“How’s Ghaniyah?”
“This whole thing has really set her back. She went into a shell. Several women from the mosque came to her place and helped clean up. Her daughter is trying to get a visa home from Lebanon, but that’s hit some red tape.”
Shannon stepped a little closer to Alex and lowered her voice. “Khalid is despondent and worried sick about Ghaniyah. If the judge denies bail or sets it too high, I’m worried our client might do something drastic.”
Our client. The words weren’t lost on Alex, but now was not the time for an argument. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. I’m just saying that we’ve got to win this hearing.”
There was no need for Alex to remind Shannon of the obvious-if they were hoping for a lenient judge, they had come to the wrong courtroom. By arbitrary assignment, Judge Henry McElroy would be handling the arraignment and bail hearing. A former prosecutor, McElroy wasn’t quite the hanging judge, but he was close. In General District Courtroom No. 3, there was a lot of talk about the presumption of innocence. But in practice, the prosecutors and cops were presumed correct until defense attorneys proved them unequivocally wrong.
“What kind of bond could Khalid even post?” Alex asked.
Shannon motioned for him to keep his voice down. “He says there are others in the mosque who could help.”
Alex wrinkled his brow at the thought. “If he does that, everyone will assume it’s Hezbollah money.”
“I know,” Shannon whispered. “I’ve told him that.”
A few minutes later the bailiff announced the entrance of Judge McElroy, and the entire courtroom stood.
“Be seated,” the judge intoned. McElroy was a large man with a round face, slumped shoulders, thinning hair, and reading glasses that looked about two sizes too small. He seemed to be sitting up straighter than normal today, undoubtedly mindful that the cameras were rolling. It occurred to Alex that this would be McElroy’s big opportunity to show what kind of law-and-order judge he was.
He took a few minutes to explain the process, talking more slowly and pronouncing his words more clearly than he typically did. At about nine fifteen, he started the “shuffle of shame.” One by one the defendants paraded into the courtroom in handcuffs and leg shackles, sat next to their lawyers, were informed of the charges against them, and were asked how they were going to plead. The defendants had a right to be dressed up and presentable on the day of their trial so that the orange prison jumpsuits wouldn’t scream “Guilty!” to the jury. But there was no such right for an arraignment or bond hearing.
To nobody’s surprise, McElroy had intentionally saved Khalid’s case for last. “Defendant 10-3417, Khalid Mobassar, arraignment and bond hearing,” the clerk announced. There was a rustling in the courtroom as all eyes turned toward the side door.
“Let’s take a ten-minute break,” Judge McElroy said.
During the recess, Alex and Shannon settled in at the defense counsel table. Taj Deegan, wearing a gray suit, came over and shook their hands. She was smiling and looked perfectly at ease. “Is there something special about this next defendant?” she asked.
“You mean other than the fact that he’s innocent?” Alex asked.
“They’re all innocent,” Taj retorted. “It was probably self-defense.”
Shannon ignored the banter and leafed through some documents. Taking the hint, Taj wished Alex luck and returned to her table.
32
After an appropriate amount of time so the anticipation could reach a fevered level, Judge McElroy reconvened court and asked the bailiffs to bring in the defendant. Alex noticed Shannon wipe her sweaty palms against her skirt.
Khalid came in the side door looking like he’d just been captured from a Taliban assault camp. His hair was unkempt, his beard uncombed. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he put his head down as he did the inmate shuffle toward the defense counsel’s table, the chains around his ankles jangling. The orange jumpsuit hung on his thin body, and the pants were partway up his shins, exposing a few inches of bare leg between the bottom of his pants and his flip-flops. Shannon and Alex shook the man’s hand and gave him the seat between them.
In a few moments, he would be arraigned on the charge of conspiracy to commit murder. If convicted, Khalid was looking at life in prison. In many other states, it could have been worse. Virginia still adhered to the “triggerman rule,” meaning that the only person who faced the death penalty for a murder would be the killer himself, not an accomplice or even someone who ordered the killing. Twice, the state legislature had passed bills trying to change that rule, but a Democratic governor had vetoed them both. Alex suspected that after Khalid’s case, the new Republican governor would sign a similar bill into law as soon as he could.