Reprisal (32 page)

“Tell me about it,” Zehra said. “It’s the defendant’s choice to testify or not, but he shouldn’t. His attitude alone will convict him.”

They both buried themselves in the work and remained silent. When Jackie wasn’t looking, Zehra reached into her briefcase and pulled out a chocolate cupcake. She leaned down and took a big bite. Probably go right to my thighs, she thought but then justified it by all the work she labored through.

“Is this the worst case you’ve ever had?” Jackie interrupted her.

Zehra pushed back in her chair. “No, I think the toughest ones are when you think your guy may be innocent. Usually, the prosecution wins about ninety-some percent of the time. In some ways, the easiest are those where you know the defendant’s guilty. If he’s found guilty, it doesn’t bother you as much.”

“So, this case is tough ‘cause maybe he’s not the killer?”

“Yeah, but I hate the guy so much, it’s going to be hard no matter what.” Zehra’s head jerked up. “Hey, where’s BJ?” She looked at her watch and pulled out her cell.

He answered after four rings. “Z … I’m sorry. I’m on my way to Chicago. Momma’s got some problems.” His voice had a sharp edge to it. “I’ll be back Sunday, for sure.”

“Don’t worry. You’ve done all the heavy lifting up to now. Take care of her, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Hey, babe, you see that friend of yours, you be sure to let somebody know where you are. He paused for a moment. “I know you didn’t want me to poke my nose into it, but I did a little checking. And besides, you got the best of the federal government baby-sitting you. Heard anything about your car yet?”

“BJ! I told you to butt out.”

“I’m worried about you, Z. Here’s the problem: my sources can’t find any record of this guy. If he’s a legitimate scientist at that company, wouldn’t he have some history?”

“I don’t know. I can’t think about it right now.”

“I’ll be okay.” She hung up and told Jackie what happened.

“What about Dr. Stein’s testimony?”

“Harmon will fight like hell to keep Stein’s testing out of evidence. The issue for the judge is to decide if Stein qualifies as an expert or not. The jury will decide if the DNA testing exonerates El-Amin. Again, we don’t have to prove that, just create doubt that the original testing was accurate. I think Goldberg will let it in, but if he doesn’t, we’ll go downhill fast.”

Jackie stood up and lifted a four-inch notebook off the table. She carried the three-ring binder to Zehra’s side of the table. “Here’s the trial notebook. Everything. And I got it all backed-up on my laptop, just in case.” She opened the front cover. “See … I’ve got all the legal motions right here, the pleadings, Complaint here.” Jackie flipped through a few more sections.

“Good work. It’s tedious, but we have to know every detail and every fact of the case before hand. During the trial, we won’t have time to learn it. I remember a case I helped prosecute where we charged a guy with strangling his girlfriend to death—first-degree murder because of the premeditation. We figured the defendant had lots of time to think about what he was doing as he cranked down on her neck.”

“Sounds like premeditation to me.” Jackie walked back to the table to pick up her cup of Starbuck’s tea.

“We thought so too until the medical examiner testified truthfully, that the victim’s neck was broken within seconds from the pressure of the guy’s hands. Any effort on his part after that, didn’t add to her death. Since death was almost instantaneous, he didn’t premeditate it. Jury found him guilty of second-degree murder instead.”

“Were you mad?”

“Not so much mad as disappointed. The guy got about half the time in prison as a result.”

“And you didn’t see it coming in trial?”

Zehra shook her head. “We’d read the ME’s autopsy report and had interviewed him beforehand. It was just something that came up. A fluke. And the defense jumped on it.”

“How are you gonna handle the judge?”

“I’m happy to get assigned to him. He’s honest and pleasant to work with. Trying a case is hard enough without having to work with a jerk for a judge. If we had a more sympathetic client, we could pull on Goldberg’s social worker strings.”

Jackie sipped her tea. “What’s that?”

“Before going to law school, he was a social worker. He’s always got a soft spot for people in trouble. Our problem is El-Amin won’t generate any sympathy from anyone. My strategy, if he’ll cooperate, is to keep him as quiet as possible. The less Goldberg hears from him, the better for us.”

“This is like, overwhelming. How do you keep it all going?”

Zehra stood and laughed. “An old prosecutor who trained me often called it a circus act: you’ve got to keep three or four plates spinning in the air at all times. One falls and you lose.” She stretched her arms above her head then ran her hands through her hair several times.

Zehra thought of Mustafa. She wanted to see him and hoped the relationship could work out. Because she wanted to date in her religion as much as she could, it was hard to meet men. And her mother’s ‘friends’ were usually losers. In Mustafa she saw an intelligent, attractive and faithful Muslim man who was interested in her. The combination was hard to find. And she had to admit she felt some lust for him. If only he’d respond.

But doubts nagged at her. Beyond BJ’s warning about Mustafa’s truthfulness, there were other odd things he’d done and hazy feelings she couldn’t identify that bothered her about him.

“Jackie, do you go out with men other than Vietnamese?” she asked.

“Sure. But then, I’m Christian so it works out easier. Lots of the white guys say they find me ‘exotic.’” She laughed and cocked her hip to the side. “Can you imagine? Actually, I don’t meet that many Vietnamese men. But then, I’m an American, so who cares?”

Zehra turned to the window and watched flashes of green off the trees, tangled in the blowing wind. The quality of green in the leaves deepened as summer came closer and the temperature rose. A storm was moving in from the west.

She was anxious to meet Mustafa tonight. A break in the trial prep would be wonderful. The event sounded interesting and fun with the students. How would Mustafa react around them? It would be fun to see that side of him.

Zehra thought of her promise to BJ. She keyed on her cell phone. The only other person connected to the case that she could think of was Paul Schmidt. She decided to text him a message. Zehra told Paul she was meeting Mustafa and gave Paul the location of the school. She closed the phone and had a guilty feeling. Should she have done that? The FBI agent would be with her. Was there really any problem?

Thirty-Nine

The only quiet place Paul could find to think for a minute was a corner of the conference room with the large window. He practiced deep breathing and let his eyes float up into the sky. Thunderclouds trundled in from the west.

He’d been trained with both the Rangers and the FBI to remain calm in a crisis. He had to force his anger at Joan Cortez out of his mind until later. Paul thought of the humiliating raid on Ammar’s house. This time, he couldn’t screw-up—for the sake of his career or for the lives of thousands of others.

Paul turned around to see Dr. Samson back in the room talking on a cell phone. Techs set up several computer monitors on the conference table. More coffee had appeared on the small table on the side.

Conway bulled his way through the crowd at the door and ordered everyone to clear out except the crisis team, which included Paul. Conway lit up a cigarette in spite of the pained look on Samson’s face. Conway drew in deeply, exhaled, and asked Samson, “Where do we start?”

Joan Cortez, followed by two older men, filed into the room and stood near the door.

“I said to clear the room.” Conway barked.

“No.” Joan looked at him directly. “What if the perp’s bringing in more people across the borders or they try to escape over the borders? No, this is our jurisdiction too. We’re staying.”

Conway frowned and turned back to the doctor. “So, where do we start?”

Dr. Samson shook his head. “We need a containment strategy first.”

Conway called for Valentini who came into the conference room quickly. Conway said, “I want you to notify the state Department of Health and …”

“No,” Samson shouted. “This is much too sensitive to share with them right now. They’re not normally privy to classified intelligence. Think about it—there aren’t any security or clearance procedures set up. What if this is a nation-wide plot? We don’t know the parameters of the problem yet. When I said ‘containment strategy,’ I meant not only containment of the virus but of information, also. We don’t want information leaks to cause a panic.”

“Oh, yeah,” Conway said and drew from his cigarette again.

Dr. Kumar came into the room. “The team from the Center for Disease Control has landed at the military base by the airport. They’ve got three Epidemic Intelligence Services officers with them, the nurses, dosages of vaccine, and other personnel.” He smoothed his hair. “They’ll be at the site in less than a half hour.”

“What if they don’t have enough vaccine?” Valentini said. “Then what? Should we consider a mandatory quarantine?”

“How big should we draw the circle around the site?” Conway said.

Paul said, “I’m not sure a mandatory quarantine would be legal. I mean, how can you force people to stay in their houses for days?”

Heads dropped and the conversation lagged.

Paul spoke again, “We’re going to need local law enforcement at the site.”

Dr. Samson agreed. “But don’t tell them why,” he cautioned.

Conway nodded and told Valentini to make the contacts with the chief of police for the city. “What’s the location again?” he asked Paul. The details were relayed to the chief.

Valentini held the cell phone away from his head. “What should I tell them to do?”

Dr. Samson said, “They are to maintain order and make sure no one leaves the area of the mosque. Paul, you should get out there immediately with Dr. B and meet the team from CDC. Post the police at all points where people may enter or leave the suspect area. When the CDC team arrives, they’ll set up a mobile medical center to assess the problem and administer vaccinations to those people inside the containment circle as soon as they decide to release it. Hopefully, we won’t miss anyone that could get out.”

“Should we quarantine the entire suburb?” Conway asked.

“It may be necessary. But we don’t know yet since the CDC team isn’t on site to assess the extent of the release.”

Conway added, “I’ve got to notify the mayor and the governor, too. The FBI director’s already called me twice since we alerted their war room. Anyone else?”

Samson sighed and his face drooped. “We have to face the possibility that this is a national release. The Department of Homeland Security, Defense Department, and the National Security Council will have to come in at some point, along with the president.”

Joan interrupted, “Hey folks, hate to burst your bubble, but we’re here and that means Homeland Security already knows.”

“It’s too early for all that, Stan,” Dr. Kumar said.

Samson’s eyes lifted to meet his and then moved around the room. “How do you know?”

After a silence, Conway cleared his throat with a low gurgle. “How do I protect my own people?”

Samson said, “When the CDC team arrives, they can vaccinate everyone who’ll have primary contact with the release. Law enforcement and health workers have priority. The closest hospitals and emergency rooms get second priority. We must maintain the viability of the medical personnel. If they’re overwhelmed, we all lose.”

“What about the kids who could be infected?” Valentini said.

“If the CDC has enough vaccine, of course anyone that’s determined to have been infected will get the vaccine. They’ll also be isolated at the closest hospital and monitored in quarantine.”

People in the room attacked their cell phones and made the necessary calls.

Dr. Kumar sat down beside Samson and said, “Stan, it’s damn lucky we participated in the national symposium back in ’99. Did you ever think … ?”

Paul’s cell phone buzzed. He opened it and read the message from Zehra. It confused him since she texted him that she would be going with Mustafa to Hiawatha High School for a science fair. Zehra also included the address. Why would she send him the text? Wasn’t Mustafa some guy she had met or was dating? Paul didn’t have time to think about it. He saved it and closed the phone.

Conway walked over to him. “You know where this mosque is, Paul?”

“Yeah. I was there earlier, and the witness Abraham, told me about it.”

“Do you know when the meeting was supposed to occur?”

“Sometime tonight.” Paul caught his breath. “Wait a minute! The services at the mosque began already, at noon. The meeting could be at anytime after, or even during the service.”

“Like right now?” Conway crossed his beefy arms over his chest.

“I’m moving.” Paul hurried toward the door.

They jumped into the elevator and fell to the basement. Paul jogged to his car.