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.”