Alex spent three entire afternoons preparing Khalid for his turn on the stand. During one of those afternoons, Shannon conducted a mock cross-examination, and they videotaped Khalid’s answers.
Complicating matters was the fact that Alex was not as focused as he needed to be. Though he and Nara both tried to act as if the Thanksgiving night kiss had never occurred, he couldn’t get her out of his thoughts. The others on the trial team could apparently sense that things had changed dramatically between Alex and Nara. For one thing, they were no longer constantly at each other’s throat about trial strategies. In fact, Nara was so supportive of Alex that it became a little awkward for everyone else. All of this only made Shannon more businesslike; Alex thought he detected a slight tinge of jealousy in the air.
Late one afternoon, Alex’s grandmother mentioned something about it. “It’s really none of my business what goes on between you and Nara,” Ramona said, “except I do know that your grandfather had some pretty strict rules about fraternization with clients.”
“I’m not fraternizing with her,” Alex said. And it is none of your business, he felt like adding.
Ramona took a quick glance around. Alex could sense that she had been debating whether to say anything at all. “I just don’t want to see you mess up things with Shannon,” she said. “I always thought you two would make a great pair.”
The comment caught Alex a little off guard. He and Shannon had developed an amazing friendship. But even before Nara had arrived on the scene, he had decided not to ruin a special friendship by making another attempt to date her. “Shannon and I are really good friends, Grandma. And we work great together. But we’ve kind of got an unspoken pact that we won’t jeopardize that by trying to turn it into something more.”
“I see,” Ramona said. “And like I said, it’s really none of my business. I’m just not so sure that Shannon remembers signing that pact.”***
Three days before trial, Judge Rosenthal surprised Alex by ordering the federal government to immediately turn over Fatih Mahdi’s telephone calls, text messages, and e-mails. Boxes of CDs and documents arrived the next day. Ramona and Nara immediately began the mind-numbing task of listening to every telephone conversation and reviewing every e-mail and text message Fatih had sent or received.
As the trial grew closer, Alex vacillated about whether to put Nara on the stand. The torment of that decision was exacerbated by the fact that he couldn’t discuss it with anyone except her. On the eve of trial, they agreed to play it by ear. Nara would take the stand only if it looked like they might otherwise lose the case.
74
Like her counterparts on the defense side, Taj Deegan had been working late every night. She hated not seeing the kids, but it was part of the price she paid. And so, on the night before trial, when the babysitter’s number showed up on Taj’s phone screen at work, it was a welcome break. It would give her a chance to tell the kids how much she loved them before they settled in for the night.
But when she answered and heard the panic in her babysitter’s voice, Taj Deegan’s blood ran cold. For an instant, it felt like her heart had literally stopped.
“You need to come home right away.” The woman was breathless. She refused to tell Taj what was wrong. “You just need to see this. The kids are both okay.”
The fifteen minutes it took Taj to get home seemed like five hours. When she arrived, her daughter was crying. Her son, only in the fourth grade, tried to keep a stiff upper lip. The babysitter pulled Taj aside and showed her the note. If Khalid Mobassar is convicted, there will be at least one more beheading.
“I found this on your daughter’s pillow,” the sitter told Taj.
Taj felt the rage boiling within her as she struggled to maintain her composure. The sitter had handled the note and had probably destroyed any fingerprint evidence. “Pack an overnight bag for the kids,” Taj said. “I want you to take them to my mom’s. I’ll have several police cruisers sitting outside her house tonight. I’ll be there myself by midnight.”
Taj immediately dialed Chief Stargell and told him about the threat. She made it clear that she wanted to personally work with the CSI team.
Once the call was completed, Taj slipped into mom mode. She pulled the kids together on the living room couch and tried to reassure them. She put her arms around both of them and held them close.
“I’m scared,” her daughter said. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“There’s nothing to be scared about,” Taj said. And she meant it. “Mommy’s going to make sure this guy spends the rest of his life in jail.”
75
Alex woke up on Friday, December 3, feeling like he hadn’t really slept. When he left the office after midnight, his grandmother and Nara were still poring over Fatih Mahdi’s records. His grandmother’s endurance had been amazing to watch. Alex hoped he had half her energy when he was her age. But he knew he needed some sleep or he would be irritable and slow-witted the first day of trial.
Alex shaved and put on his one suit, gulping down two cups of coffee along the way. He already had the jitters. He was chilled, his stomach was upset, and he couldn’t sit still to think things through. It was a good thing Shannon would be in charge of picking the jury for the next few days. It would take Alex that long just to calm down.**
*
Lawyers know to expect the unexpected on the first day of trial, so Alex tried not to be thrown when the sheriff’s deputy requested that he, Shannon, and Khalid Mobassar meet with Judge Rosenthal in his chambers.
“What’s this about?” Khalid asked.
“I don’t have the foggiest idea,” Alex admitted.
They followed the deputy through the door behind the judge’s bench. Another deputy fell in behind as they walked down the hallway and turned into Rosenthal’s chambers. The judge was sitting at his desk smoking a cigarette, the air stale and thick with smoke. He welcomed them and, in a solemn tone, asked all three to take a seat. Taj Deegan and Detective Derrick Sanderson were already in the chambers, and Alex knew that something big was about to happen.
“Where’s the court reporter?” Judge Rosenthal asked. He took another drag on the cigarette and tapped off some ashes.
“She’s on the way,” the deputy replied. The man had stationed himself right next to Khalid.
Judge Rosenthal turned his attention to some papers on his desk.
“What’s this about?” Alex asked.
Rosenthal looked up. “I’ll let you know as soon as the court reporter gets here.”
They waited for several minutes in absolute silence. Alex glanced at Shannon, who shrugged. Alex knew her stomach was probably doing somersaults just like his.
After a few minutes, the court reporter arrived and set up her stenographic machine. Rosenthal stated the case name for the record, noted the persons present, and turned the floor over to Taj Deegan.
“Last night, I received a call from my babysitter, who had found a note on my daughter’s pillow.” Taj stared at Khalid for a second. “Detective Sanderson is here to testify about the subsequent investigation. I actually have the note in a plastic bag and would like to have it marked as Exhibit A for this hearing.”
“What hearing?” Alex asked. “I wasn’t put on notice about any hearing.”
“Let her finish,” snapped Rosenthal. The venom in his voice surprised Alex.
“I’d also like to read the note into evidence,” Taj continued. She seemed unnaturally composed, her voice cold and hard. “It says, ‘If Khalid Mobassar is convicted, there will be at least one more beheading.’”
The words sucked the wind out of Alex. Shannon went pale. Khalid remained stoic, as if he hadn’t even heard what the prosecutor said.
“Detective Sanderson can fill you in on the details of his investigation,” Deegan continued. “At this point, the police have no hard leads other than the obvious connection to the defendant. My kids are under 24-7 surveillance, and they are understandably scared to death.”