“What did you do?” Taj asked.
“I was stunned. I did not deny the affair and I did not admit it. I thanked him for his friendship. We embraced. I told him that I considered him closer than a brother. I told him that he was a better man than I was. I left with a deep appreciation for the pain he must have felt at such betrayal and at his nobility for keeping this to himself.”
“That’s not true,” Khalid whispered. “None of it.”
“Is that why you stopped criticizing Khalid’s teaching at the mosque?” Taj asked.
Fatih nodded. “Yes, it is. I realized that our friendship was more important. I realized that he could have destroyed my reputation but chose not to. I decided the least I could do was stop attacking his.”
Taj Deegan appeared to be thinking about this for a few seconds, but Alex knew she was just letting the information sink in. In five minutes of testimony, the entire complexion of the case had changed. For Alex, the lunchtime celebration suddenly seemed like a distant memory.
“Why did you really go to Khalid Mobassar for advice when you discovered that your wife had left the Muslim faith?”
“Because I knew he had dealt with his own wife’s unfaithfulness. My situation wasn’t exactly the same, but it wasn’t completely different either. I felt rejected and humiliated. I thought Khalid could help me work through those issues. Instead, I believe he saw it as an opportunity to exact revenge and advance his agenda.”
Alex leaped to his feet. “Objection! That’s just raw speculation.”
“The jury will disregard the last part of the witness’s answer,” Judge Rosenthal ruled.
“Mr. Madison and Ms. Reese have been asking several different witnesses whether they have any idea as to why Khalid Mobassar would send text messages ordering an honor killing from his own phone. Do you have any information about that?”
Alex was up again. “Objection. That calls for speculation too.”
“It might,” Judge Rosenthal conceded, “but Ms. Deegan is correct. You’ve been asking the same question throughout the case. Objection overruled.”
Mahdi glanced toward Khalid Mobassar, then turned back to Taj Deegan. “Mr. Mobassar knew that I was ashamed of what I had done in 1980 and didn’t want it made public. He probably believed that I would never tell police that I had a meeting with him to discuss my concerns about Ja’dah.”
Alex stood again, hands spread. This is ridiculous. “Judge, that’s pure speculation. How can he possibly know what my client was thinking?”
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, please disregard the witness’s answer. He can only testify as to facts within his own personal knowledge.”
Alex sat down but knew it was a hollow victory. The jury was thinking the same thoughts that Fatih Mahdi had just expressed.
“Why didn’t you tell the jury about this during your testimony this morning?” Deegan asked. She obviously knew that Alex would hammer that issue on cross-examination, so she wanted to put it on the table first.
“I hoped it would not be necessary. I am deeply ashamed of what I have done. But after my testimony this morning, I realized that the man who ordered my wife’s death might go free if I didn’t come forward and tell the truth.”
“No further questions,” Taj Deegan said.
88
“Did it take you all lunch to think that up, or did it come to you right away?” Alex asked as he rose to his feet.
“It is the truth,” Mahdi said. His gaze was level, his voice steady.
“Very convenient for you that it’s a truth hard to verify. I mean, it just so happens that the only two people who were part of these conversations were you and my client-your word against his.”
“Your client’s wife can confirm or deny this,” Mahdi said.
“When did you divorce your first wife?” Alex asked.
“In 1989.”
“So you divorced your first wife for unfaithfulness nine years after you had slept with another man’s wife?”
“I divorced her because she wanted to leave. I was simply fulfilling her wishes.”
“Let’s see-you didn’t tell the truth the first time you testified, you cheated with another man’s wife, you lied about loving your second wife, and now you expect the jury to take your word that these alleged conversations with my client took place?”
“I did love Ja’dah. What I did with Ghaniyah was wrong. Why would I make something up that is so publicly humiliating?”
“Perhaps because your hatred for Khalid Mobassar consumes you and trumps everything else,” Alex shot back.
“Objection!”
“Sustained.” Rosenthal glared at the witness. “You are to answer Mr. Madison’s questions, not ask your own.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“I have nothing further for this witness,” Alex said.
Taj Deegan stood behind her counsel table. “The commonwealth first learned about Mr. Mahdi’s affair over the lunch break. When we did, we had the sheriff’s deputy serve a subpoena on Mrs. Mobassar, requiring her immediate attendance in court. We would request a brief recess until she arrives.”
Alex felt like he had just been run over with a bus. Ghaniyah was coming to testify? If she confirmed the affair, there was a good chance the jury would believe everything else Mahdi had just told them.
“Court will stand in recess until Mrs. Mobassar arrives,” Judge Rosenthal said. “And I’m instructing both sides not to have any contact with her prior to the time she takes the stand.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Taj Deegan and Alex said in unison.
89
Ghaniyah Mobassar took the stand looking nervous and frazzled. She wore the long, flowing robes of the traditional hijab Alex had seen her wear around the house, complete with a matching head scarf. Her eyes were wide with confusion and distrust.
She stole a glance toward Khalid, and he gave her a reassuring look as Taj Deegan began her questioning.
“Please state your name for the record.”
“Ghaniyah Mobassar.”
“Please slide a little closer to the mic,” Judge Rosenthal said.
Ghaniyah inched closer. “Ghaniyah Mobassar,” she repeated. This time everyone in the courtroom could hear.
“Are you the wife of the defendant, Khalid Mobassar?”
“Yes.”
“Mrs. Mobassar, I am sorry that I have to ask you this next question, but it has become an issue in the case. Did you have an affair with Fatih Mahdi shortly after your brother died in the Lebanese civil war in 1980?”
Ghaniyah stared at Taj Deegan as if she couldn’t believe that the prosecutor had the gall to ask. It felt like the entire courtroom inhaled and held its collective breath. Ghaniyah didn’t utter a word.
“Mrs. Mobassar, you need to answer the question,” Deegan prompted.
Alex wanted to bail her out, but he couldn’t. After a thirty-minute argument in the judge’s chambers, with Alex claiming that Ghaniyah shouldn’t take the stand because of her brain injury, Rosenthal had personally called Ghaniyah’s neuropsychiatrist. After a brief phone conversation, he denied Alex’s motion.
Ghaniyah shook her head. “I will not answer the question,” she said indignantly.
You just did, Alex thought.
Judge Rosenthal leaned toward the witness. “Mrs. Mobassar, I know this is uncomfortable, but you have no choice. You are instructed to answer the question.”
Ghaniyah looked longingly toward Khalid and then turned to face Taj Deegan. She stared at the prosecutor as if she wanted to gouge Deegan’s eyes out. “I have always been faithful to my husband.”
Alex exhaled. To his surprise, the prosecution’s strategy had backfired. The jury may not believe Ghaniyah because she had been so hesitant to answer. But her testimony could not have been more clear.
Yet Taj Deegan did not seem deterred. She took a few steps closer to the witness. “Mr. Mahdi claims that Ahmed was his child. Do you deny this?”
“Objection!” Alex called out. “Mr. Mahdi gave no such testimony.”