The prosecution’s next witness was a pencil-thin Indian man named Dr. Kumar Santi, a specialist in cell tower and satellite technology. After boring the judge with a long list of qualifications, Dr. Santi explained the concept of cell phone triangulation, based on the location of cell towers relaying signals for a phone at any given time. By plotting successive calls using this technology, it was possible to trace the general movement of a cell phone.
As a result, Santi was able to provide three important opinions. First, when the original messages were sent from Khalid Mobassar’s cell phone on June 2, they were sent from the vicinity of the Islamic Learning Center in Norfolk. Second, the phone that received the messages, which Santi referred to as “John Doe cell phone number one,” was in the Seven Corners area of northern Virginia. Third, the cell phone that sent the one-word “finished” message back to Mobassar’s cell phone shortly after the murders on June 12, called “John Doe cell phone number two,” was in the Sandbridge area. That same cell phone had been purchased earlier in the day in the vicinity of Petersburg, Virginia, and had been carried to Virginia Beach before being brought to Sandbridge.
Dr. Santi also testified that both John Doe cell phones one and two had been purchased using fake identities the police had not been able to trace.
A few times during Santi’s testimony, Alex leaned over and reminded Khalid not to look so glum. “Take notes,” Alex suggested. “Wipe that ‘guilty’ sign off your forehead.”
Alex tried hard to look upbeat himself, but he felt like Deegan had just placed the lid on his client’s coffin and was pulling out her hammer and nails.
When Santi stepped down, Deegan called Special Agent Christopher Long, who played for the court some of Khalid’s phone calls from a few days after the murder, with Khalid’s voice clearly identifiable on the recordings. This was done, Alex knew, because the cell phone had disappeared by the time the police had questioned Khalid. It was a preemptive strike by Deegan-taking away any defense based on the allegation that somebody had stolen Khalid’s phone and sent the messages ordering the killings.
Special Agent Long was followed by a local banker who had access to the Islamic Learning Center accounts. She testified to the irregularities in the mosque’s deposits and the $20,000 that had been wired to a bank in Beirut, authorized online by someone using Khalid’s password. Another path of bread crumbs that led to Khalid’s door.
Following the lunch break, the prosecution called Fatih Mahdi to the stand, and a murmur of anticipation floated through the spectators. Mahdi stepped forward looking swarthy and somber, his eyes on the judge as he stood in the well of the courtroom. Mahdi was a short man with broad shoulders and a thick waist. He had receding black hair and wore the white cloth hat and long white robe of an orthodox Muslim.
“Do you swear or affirm to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” Judge McElroy asked.
“I affirm,” Mahdi replied.
He took the stand and stared at Khalid. Alex’s client returned the stare without flinching.
It quickly became obvious that Mahdi did not want to be there. He answered Deegan’s questions with short sentences that he spit back at her, a perpetual scowl lining his face.
“At some point, did you become aware that your wife, Ja’dah Fatima Mahdi, was attending Beach Bible Church?”
“Yes.”
“How did you find out?”
“I followed her.”
“Why did you follow her?”
Mahdi sighed. “Because I had suspicions.”
“Based on what?”
“Changes in her behavior and the fact that she was making excuses to be out alone every Saturday night.”
For thirty minutes, Taj Deegan asked carefully scripted questions, and Mahdi gave his grudging answers. Mahdi testified that he had secretly followed his wife to Beach Bible Church and watched her meet up with Martin Burns. Later that night, Mahdi had confronted his wife and learned that she had converted to Christianity. Not knowing what else to do, Mahdi had turned to Khalid Mobassar for counsel. Mobassar was the only person Mahdi had talked to about his wife’s conversion.
“What did Mr. Mobassar say?” Taj Deegan asked.
Mahdi glanced at Khalid and turned back to Deegan. “He worried about what this might do to the reputation of my family and the mosque. He said he would like to meet with Ja’dah. He urged me not to tell anyone else.” Mahdi stopped, his face tight with tension. He started to speak but paused to gather himself. “Khalid said to leave it to him-that he would take care of it.”
Khalid leaned over and whispered in Alex’s ear. “That’s a lie.”
“What did you take that to mean?” Deegan asked.
Mahdi thought about this. “At the time, I thought it meant that he would talk to Ja’dah… help her see the error of her ways. Ja’dah was young and impetuous. I never thought it would mean…” Mahdi stopped again and looked accusatorily at Khalid. “In retrospect, it appears that I was wrong.”
Taj Deegan sat down sharply. “No further questions.”
50
Though the result of the hearing was already a foregone conclusion, Taj Deegan ended her case by calling Detective Terri Brown to the stand. Most of Brown’s testimony was a regurgitation of facts already known to Alex. She detailed the results of her investigation and stated that the police were still exploring the funding for the Islamic Learning Center to see if there were any ties with Hezbollah. But she had found one piece of interesting information on Khalid’s work computer.
Alex sat up a little straighter, bracing himself for the worst.
“Please tell the court what you discovered,” Deegan said.
Brown looked at Judge McElroy. “We found a Google search on March 29 for Sandbridge rental properties.”
“Was one of the results pulled up during this search the listing for 112 Kingfisher Drive?”
Alex held his breath. That was the address of the property that had been rented for cash the week of Ja’dah Mahdi’s murder. The CSI teams had found trace amounts of Ja’dah’s blood on the premises.
“Yes,” Detective Brown replied. “The third property listed was 112 Kingfisher Drive.”***
After the commonwealth rested its case, Judge McElroy ordered a ten-minute recess.
Nara elbowed into the huddle at counsel table. “Put me on the stand,” she said to Alex.
“We’ve been through this,” Alex replied, his patience wearing thin. “We’re saving our case for trial. The commonwealth has already put on enough evidence to win this hearing.”
“I know that,” Nara snapped. “But after that last bit of testimony, every potential juror in Virginia Beach is going to assume that my father ordered this horrible crime.”
With good reason, Alex thought. How else do you explain it?
“We’ll make our case at trial,” Alex insisted.
Nara blew out a breath of frustration. She softened her tone. “My father could go to prison for life, Alex.”
“I know that.”
“We’ve got to make him seem human.” She was pleading now, rather than demanding. “I can do that. I can talk about my brothers, my dad’s efforts to reform the faith, how he always gave me permission to ask questions. Mahdi lied about his meeting with my father. My father would have never said that.”
“We can’t.” Alex’s tone was apologetic, but he wasn’t open to persuasion. “I’m sorry.”
Khalid took a half step forward, his voice hushed. “Alex is calling the shots here,” he said to Nara, putting his hand gently on her arm. “Fatih did lie. But we have to trust our lawyers to expose those lies at the proper time.”
Nara started to say something but apparently thought better of it. Her dark eyes glowered at Alex, her lips pursed in frustration. “Your call,” she said to Alex. “But I’ll be sitting right here in the front row if you need me.”
Don’t hold your breath.
“Thanks,” Alex said.***
When court reconvened, Alex told Judge McElroy that the defense did not intend to call any witnesses. As soon as Alex sat down, McElroy issued his ruling.