Instead, the judge announced a ten-minute break.***
Ten minutes turned into twenty, and Alex figured the judge must have had time to burn through at least three cigarettes. During the wait, Khalid told Alex that his argument was “compelling.”
Nara pulled Alex to the side. “We’re going to lose, aren’t we?”
“Probably.”
Alex was right. Judge Rosenthal returned to the bench, posed for the media camera, and promptly denied the motion to suppress. He reminded everyone that the country was still at war with terrorists. He held that the Patriot Act contained adequate safeguards to ensure that the CIA and Justice Department did not go overboard in their surveillance and searches. He even added a bonus that Taj Deegan had not requested-saying that the honor killings in this case might themselves be acts of terror. He didn’t just rule against Alex’s motion; he annihilated it.
The day could have been a complete loss. But Alex had one more trick up his sleeve.
“Is there any other business for the court?” Rosenthal asked. It was meant to be a rhetorical question; his gavel was already raised, ready to come down and signal an end to the proceedings.
Alex jumped to his feet. “Actually, there is one thing.”
Judge Rosenthal sighed and laid his gavel down.
“Since the court has just held that wiretaps under the Patriot Act can be used against my client, I am requesting a subpoena to the Department of Justice to reveal any phone conversations, text messages, or e-mails they might have obtained under that same act for Fatih Mahdi’s phone and computer.”
From the look on the judge’s face, Alex’s maneuver had caught him totally off guard. Take that!
“If surveillance under the Patriot Act can be used to convict a defendant,” Alex continued, “then certainly that same defendant is entitled to surveillance under the act if it might prove his innocence.”
Taj Deegan sprang up. “We don’t even know if there is any such surveillance.”
“Let the Department of Justice tell us that,” Alex responded. “All I’m asking for right now is a subpoena that would allow me access to such surveillance if it does exist.”
“That might compromise national security,” Deegan countered. “That’s the whole purpose of the act.”
“Then I’ll agree to a confidentiality order so that only my client and I can look at the information,” Alex suggested. “I’ll clear it with the court before I use any of the information at trial.”
The lawyers both paused, and all eyes turned toward Rosenthal. Stymied, he did what judges do when they have no idea how to rule. “That’s an interesting issue, Counsel. I’ll need both sides to submit any authorities they want me to consider within seven days. I know the trial is scheduled to start on the third of December. I don’t intend to postpone the case based on this last-minute request. But I’ll need some time to research this point.”
This time, Rosenthal didn’t ask if the lawyers had any other business. He banged his gavel and called it a day.
71
With Khalid’s trial only eight days away, Thanksgiving was just another working day at Madison and Associates. The only member of the firm who didn’t come to the office on Thanksgiving was Ramona Madison. She had been serving the homeless Thanksgiving dinner for twenty-five straight years, and she wasn’t about to skip a year now. Alex gave her the full day off but made her promise to cook dinner for everyone else.
By six o’clock, the firm was sitting down at Ramona’s dining room table, ready to dig into the feast. Shannon generally spent Thanksgiving with her folks in Alabama, but this year she couldn’t get away. The fourth member of the group, Nara Mobassar, had never shared a Thanksgiving meal with anyone. Alex had also invited Khalid, but Ghaniyah had been reluctant to participate, so Khalid decided to stay home with his wife.
Ramona had put her best china on the table and made Alex mute the football game while they sat down to eat.
“Do you mind if we hold hands and say a brief prayer?” Ramona asked Nara. “We won’t be at all offended if you choose not to join us.”
“That’s fine,” Nara said. “Actually, I’d like to join you.” She held out her hands, and the others took the cue.
“Alex?” Ramona said, once they were all holding hands. “You’re the minister here.”
“ Former minister,” Alex reminded her.
He kept the prayer short, focusing on the things for which they were thankful. At the end, he couldn’t resist a quick petition for success on Khalid’s case. After his amen, the others echoed the word, and the feast began.
“How did you have time to cook all this stuff and work at the feeding kitchen too?” Shannon asked as she passed around the main courses.
Ramona gave Shannon a sly smile. “I donate five hundred a year to their Thanksgiving feedings. That should entitle me to a few leftovers.”
Alex’s head jerked up from slapping the mashed potatoes on his plate. “You took food from the homeless?”
“They had plenty,” his grandmother said, somewhat defensively. “And if I do say so, I think they got the better end of the deal.”
Undeterred by the source of the bounty, the Khalid Mobassar legal team dug in with great enthusiasm while Alex periodically ribbed his grandmother about her wonderful cooking. Ramona had established one firm rule for Thanksgiving dinner-no talking about the case. Alex could tell that it was killing Shannon.
Just before dessert, with Ramona clearing the dishes, Nara provided Shannon with an opening.
“When is my mother’s case going to trial?” Nara asked.
“January tenth,” Shannon said. “But your mom will be deposed a week from Saturday. I’ve been pushing for depositions of the defendants, and the judge ruled last week that the defense lawyers get to depose Ghaniyah first.”
“I still can’t believe Judge Lewis did that,” Alex said. “I think he got intimidated by Strobel.”
They had had this same conversation around the office several times. Mack Strobel and Kayden Dendy were anxious to depose Ghaniyah. Shannon had resisted, knowing that her client wasn’t yet ready. Recently, Strobel had gone to court to complain, and Judge Lewis had ordered Shannon to make Ghaniyah available for deposition. Shannon refused to miss a day of Khalid’s trial, so a compromise was struck. Ghaniyah’s deposition would take place on a Saturday.
“She’ll make a terrible witness,” Nara said.
The comment seemed a little out of line, and for a few seconds, nobody responded. “Actually, the problem we have is that your mom might make too good a witness,” Shannon responded. “Her recovery is coming along great, which is a good thing. But if she does too well in her deposition, the jury might not believe she’s suffering from a serious brain injury.”
72
They finished eating by seven, and Alex was pretty sure that Shannon would head back to the office. Because Nara had ridden to Ramona’s house with Shannon, Alex offered to give her a ride home. Shannon raised her eyebrows but apparently wasn’t willing to make a scene.
Ramona had no such reservations. “Try to avoid making out in public,” she said.
“You’re fired,” Alex replied.
On the way to the Mobassars’ place, Alex had a brilliant idea. “Do you have a few minutes to go to the Virginia Beach boardwalk with me?” he asked Nara.
Nara gave him a puzzled look. “Why?”
“This time of year, they line the boardwalk with Christmas lights. You drive your car down the middle of the boardwalk and see all kinds of cool stuff.” In truth, the Christmas lights were not that spectacular, but Alex was looking forward to time alone with Nara.
“Sounds great,” she said. And just like that, Alex felt as light-headed as a middle schooler on his first date.