Probity: A Legal Suspense Novel

by Thomas Gatta

  Karzai had condemned the attack on the school children and called for an investigation. NATO and Canadian coalition forces had claimed they weren’t responsible or guilty of killing civilians. The Afghan Army had said it wasn’t involved. The NATO spokesman later had announced that a joint Afghan-American force had carried out an attack against a group of known Taliban members and bomb makers who had launched attacks on Afghan security and coalition units and were planning more such attacks. The spokesman had claimed that all those killed were Taliban and were discovered with weapons and bomb making supplies. He had said NATO would help with the Afghan Government investigation of the killings.

  Assadullah had talked to some of the Afghan investigators and some NATO officers. All the investigators had just wanted the incident hushed up. But a group of elders from the district also had gone to the school and talked with family members and local people. They learned that no Taliban were at the school at the time of the raid, nor had they been operating in the area in the previous weeks. The Taliban traveled through the area but didn’t use it for operations, because they wanted somewhere safe to eat and relax periodically.

  Like Akhtar, most of the other families had sent their sons to attend and live at the school to keep them away from the Taliban and the fighting. The students ranged in age from 12 to 17. Besides the teachers and caretakers, a few travelers also had been staying on the compound, but the elders believed the travelers were civilians, too, with no connections to the Taliban. The school didn’t keep many weapons, just some old AK-47s left from when the Soviets had tried to wrest control of Khandahar from the insurgents. And the teachers had kept those AKs mostly to try to deter drug smugglers from bothering the school.

  Karzai heard the findings of the elders and offered money to the victims’ families. But he had claimed he didn’t know who had done the killing. NATO said it had authorized, apparently on inaccurate intelligence, an operation against the Taliban in the area. Nonetheless, NATO had continued to say it wasn’t responsible. The Afghan National Security Directorate announced that no Afghan forces were involved but that, “international forces from an unknown address came to the area and conducted the operation on their own without informing any security or local authorities of Afghanistan.” Everyone knew but wouldn’t say that it was the Special Unit Ghosts and Afghan military. So, like the relatives of all those other boys, Assadullah’s family had taken Karzai’s afghanis, the equivalent of $1,300 dollars, for Haji’s life. And Karzai had claimed he was being generous.

  Now Assadullah sat outside the courtroom where the man who probably was Haji’s killer was being tried for violating US laws. He couldn’t believe it. Assadullah didn’t know who had accused the man, how he had ended up in court, or how US laws would work when the crime had occurred in Afghanistan. Assadullah was just happy that the man who had killed his brother might finally, after all these years, be punished. Assadullah leaned forward with his arms on his knees. He shook his head as he looked at the courtroom door. America was a strange, and grand, place.

  - 13 -

  Scott looked at his next witness, John Walker, and then at his notes. Walker was a bruiser. Tall and broad, Walker stooped over a cane that Scott doubted Walker really needed. Still, the cane was a good prop. It probably played well with some jury members—Walker, the wounded warrior. Scott wondered about the name. Really? Johnnie Walker? Somebody either had a sense of humor or had been up too late with a bottle before coming up with the name.

  Scott moved toward the witness stand while asking Walker to give his account of the raid on the Khandahar compound. The initial part of Walker’s version didn’t differ much from that of Mortimer’s or Jones’s.

  Scott asked Walker, “So, Mr. Walker, you waited outside the main structure on the compound for Mr. Bennett. How did you and your team decide to go into the structure?”

  “Um, I think Sean might have called us in. I can’t recall exactly, whether he called us in or we decided to go in to help him. It was a long time ago.”

  “I see. Well, what happened when you went in?”

  “We went up to the second floor and looked around. The main room didn’t have any Taliban.”

  “Where were Mr. Bennett and his Afghan team?”

  “I think they were in the main room.”

  “And did Mr. Bennett direct you into the backroom or say anything to you in the main room?”

  “Yeah, I think he said the dead Taliban were in the back.”

  “Do you recall his words or any gestures?”

  “Ah, not really, it was a long time ago.”

  “Not really, Mr. Walker?”

  “Well, I think he said he’d gotten all the Taliban.”

  “‘Gotten’ as in killed?”

  Smith called, “Objection, Your Honor. He’s badgering.”

  McNamara said, “Overruled. Answer the question, please.”

  Walker stated, “Yes, he said he’d killed them. And he directed us to the back room to see.”

  Scott asked, “And what did you find?”

  “We went into the back room and saw the bodies. All the Taliban were shot dead.”

  “How did you know, Mr. Walker, that the dead were Taliban?”

  Walker looked at Scott, raised his eyebrows, and leaned back in the witness chair. “Sir, that was our mission—to neutralize the Taliban at the compound, so they couldn’t harm our troops or the Afghan Government forces.”

  Scott walked over near the jury, turned back to the witness stand, and gestured toward the jury. “Mr. Walker, could you please tell us what your team did to ascertain that the people in the buildings you raided were Taliban?”

  Walker looked at Gardner and shrugged his shoulders, “Well, we had intelligence before the raid. Do you mean what did we do the night of the raid?”

  “Yes, Mr. Walker, the night of the raid. Did you or your team members take measures to ensure that the people you were targeting were, in fact, members or supporters of the Taliban or al Qa’ida?”

  Walker looked toward the back of the courtroom toward the SU attorneys. He then looked at the jury and at Scott and shook his head. “I’m not sure, Sir, what you mean. We couldn’t very well wake folks up and ask them, ‘excuse me, are you a Taliban?’, I mean, that would be pretty stupid, because of course they’d say no, before likely trying to kill us.”

  Several members of the jury looked at Walker and Scott and snickered.

  Scott glanced at the jury, raised his eyebrows, and said, “So, Mr. Walker, your team did not question the people you’d pulled from the first floor of the building or seek any other information to verify that you’d come to the right place for your raid? And that the people inside the structures were, indeed, Taliban?”

  “Well, I don’t know what the Afghan troops might have asked the people. They didn’t tell us, and we don’t speak their language.”

  “Did any of the Afghan troops voice any objections regarding the raid?”

  “Not to me, that I recall.”

  “Did they voice any objections to other members of your team?”

  “I really don’t remember.”

  “Mr. Walker, please recall that you are under oath.”

  “Not all the Afghan forces speak great English, so it’s hard for us to communicate with them sometimes. It’s possible they might have said something to Sean about the compound being a school, but I don’t remember anything specific.”

  “I see. And Mr. Walker, did you return to the compound the next day with your team for site exploitation?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did you find in the main room?”

  “Not very much. Some cooking and tea making equipment, rugs, books, papers, writing materials, that sort of thing.”

  “Articles that would be consistent with what you’d find in a school?”

  Smith said, “Objection, Your Honor. He’s asking for conjecture, and our witness is not an expert on Afghan schools.”

  “Sustained.”


  “Mr. Walker, did your Afghan forces, that next day, translate some of the material in that main room and tell you what it was?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that was?”

  “They said there were textbooks and stuff like that in the main room.”

  Scott looked at the jury and back at Walker. “Thank you, Mr. Walker. And did you find any weapons in the main room?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “And when you went into the back room, you found the bodies?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did you find other written materials and weapons there?”

  “No written materials, but we found some weapons.”

  “Where were the weapons?”

  “They’re shown in the pictures we took.”

  “Mr. Walker, did you find the weapons near the bodies or did your team or your Afghan soldiers move the weapons near the bodies?”

  “I don’t recall where the weapons were. I don’t think I moved them.”

  “Who did move them?”

  Smith called, “Objection, Your Honor.”

  McNamara glared at Smith and said, “Overruled.”

  Scott prompted Walker, “Mr. Walker, did your team members or the Afghan soldiers move the weapons near the bodies?”

  “Ah, I don’t remember who might have.”

  “But someone did? Remember you are under oath.”

  “Umm. Maybe. I don’t know who, though.”

  Scott said, “Thank you, Mr. Walker, no more questions, now.”

  Judge McNamara said, “Thank you, Mr. Gardner. It is now six PM. I move that we adjourn until tomorrow at nine AM. Does anyone have anything to add?” She looked out at the courtroom. Everyone looked tired and ready to leave. McNamara said, “Fine. Done. See you all tomorrow,” and banged the gavel.

  - 14 -

  Assadullah watched as people streamed out of the courtroom. He could tell the reporters were the ones with the notebooks and cell phones and casual clothes. A cluster of middle-aged people in dark suits emerged. They were talking with each other and looked official. Assadullah thought they were attorneys, but he wasn’t sure. Lots of other people filed out. He figured the case must be attracting attention because it concerned a

  Special Unit officer.

  After waiting a few minutes for the crowd to disperse, Assadullah saw two men leave together. One, middle-aged with brown hair and in a dark suit, had a briefcase and files and was talking with a younger, well-built man with light brown hair in a tan suit. The two walked slowly away from the courtroom while talking quietly. Assadullah wondered if the man in the tan suit could be the defendant and the other man his lawyer.

  A woman followed the two men out at a slight distance. She was probably in her late 30s, had brownish-blond streaked hair, and was dressed in a nice blue pantsuit. She didn’t look like a lawyer to Assadullah. The woman watched the man in the tan suit but didn’t try to say anything to him or even catch his attention.

  Assadullah waited a bit longer. He noticed what he thought were two more attorneys leave. He decided they were lawyers because of their dark suits, files, and brief cases. And they had what Assadullah deemed “the important lawyer walk.” One was a middle-aged man, and the other a young blond woman. They were talking, and the woman was gesturing with her free hand as she spoke. Both the man and woman nodded and spoke to the guard as they passed him outside the courtroom. Assadullah guessed that the two were the prosecutors.

  He got up from his spot outside the courtroom and followed the crowd out of the courthouse. As he headed toward his parked cab, Assadullah again saw the woman who had been watching the man in the tan suit. She was walking toward a dark car parked on the street a few cars ahead of his cab. The woman gave a slight wave as she approached the car, and the passenger side door opened for her. She slid inside, but the car didn’t leave immediately.

  Assadullah watched the car with the woman in it idly as he used his cell phone to call his wife. He chatted with her about her day and when he’d be home for dinner. When he ended the call after about 10 minutes, he noticed the woman in the dark car had opened the passenger side door and was getting out. She shut the door, looked over her shoulder in the direction of the courthouse behind her, and then walked forward down the street toward a parking garage. The dark car then pulled out of its space and headed down the street. Strange, Assadullah thought.

  - 15 -

  Simon Smith waved goodbye to his client, Bennett, and slid into the seat of his pewter-colored Lexus. Simon reflected that Bennett, as in the courtroom, was very cool about the charges against him. Bennett’s words—at odds with his “boy next door” appearance—seemed to Simon to indicate impatience and scorn for the process rather than worry. Bennett on leaving the courtroom described the prosecutors as “freshmen looking for their first scores” and the judge as “Grandmother Pansy.” He reiterated to Simon the same claim he’d made since he’d retained him, that the prosecution had no bodies, no hard evidence, no witnesses, and so no viable case against him. And Bennett seemed satisfied with the testimonies of the other men on his team, despite the problems the prosecution had brought out. Simon had tried to get Bennett to focus on the issue of the guns and their proximity to the bodies on the night of the raid, but Bennett blew him off. Not a good sign, Simon thought.

  As Simon pulled out onto King Street in Alexandria he had to brake fast to avoid another car that ran a red light. One of the files he’d dropped onto the passenger side seat slid to the floor. That was when Simon noticed a manila envelope that he didn’t recall being on the seat or floor this morning when he parked his car near the courthouse. At the next red light, Simon reached for his file and the envelope. He dropped the file on the seat and looked at the envelope. It had nothing on it, so he broke the seal and glanced inside at what appeared to be a single sheet of paper. Simon had to put the envelope aside to deal with the traffic, but he looked for a place to pull off. He saw a Wendy’s two blocks ahead. It would do. Simon made the turn and pulled into a parking space in the back. He grabbed the envelope and pulled out the paper. The typed note was unsigned, and the message was brief. It directed him to ask Walker, Bennett’s teammate, about relations—particularly rivalries—among the team members. The note also instructed Simon to ask whether the Taliban had ever used schools in the past for meetings and recruiting.

  Simon balled up the paper, opened his window and tossed the wad at the trashcan that was near his car. He shook his head and leaned back against the headrest, closing his eyes. Simon muttered under his breath, “just fine. Not only do I have to deal with a client who has no concept of what murder is, but now I have to contend with lurker lawyers from his employer. So much for them playing by the rules or even trusting me to do a good job on my own.” Simon heard his cell phone ring, pulled it out, and looked to see who was calling. It was his daughter. He didn’t answer and, jaw set, put his car back in gear and headed out of the parking lot.

  - 16 -

  DA Andrew Cohen perched, half sitting, on the end of the table in EDVA’s large conference room. He leaned over and snagged another piece of pizza from the box in front of his Assistant DA, David Sommers. “Don’t ya just love these Hawaiian ones? And they put a lot of ham on this one, too!” He glanced over the top of his glasses at the other box in front of Scott Gardner, “So, is that a meat lovers’ version?”

  Scott swallowed the bite of pizza in his mouth and pushed the box toward Cohen, saying, “Yes, and it’s still warm.”

  Cohen, a long-time runner with only a slight paunch, replied, “Well, my wife is watching my figure, so don’t mind if I do,” as he took a large piece.

  Sommers, who had several pieces of pizza on a paper plate in front of him said, “Hey, you’re Jewish. Are you supposed to be eating ham and sausage and bacon? That’s definitely not kosher.”

  “Well, neither am I—kosher, that is—and I like all three. Besides, I’m Reformed.” Cohen looked toward the end of the table, where Maddie sat
with her notes. “Maddie, how about a piece? It’ll make you grow.”

  “Thanks, but no. I’ll stick with my yogurt and fruit.”

  Cohen smiled and shook his head, saying, “Okey dokey, but too much clean eating is probably going to warp you.” He took another bite of his pizza and said, “So, tell us how the case is going so we can all clear out of here tonight and get some sleep.”

  Maddie and Scott took turns laying out for Cohen and Sommers the particulars of the court proceedings and witness testimonies.

  Sommers, ignoring Maddie, looked at Scott and opined, “Well, it sounds like you’ve made a good start, but how are you going to counter the defense’s likely approach of saying the killings were either justified or a fog of war mistake?”

  Maddie glanced at Sommers and said, “Scott’s already made a good start at chipping away at that argument. Walker, one of the team members, admitted today that the team really didn’t do much, if any, checking to determine whether they had the right location and who was in the compound they raided.

  Scott added, “And I think we next want to call in our NATO and Afghan Government witnesses who can describe their investigations to the court. Those investigations showed that far from attacking a Taliban network and IED smugglers, the team went after a bunch of schoolboys.”

  “So it was a tragic mistake. It happens in war,” said Sommers, shrugging. The jury will side with the defendant, who will claim he didn’t know.”

  Maddie tapped her pen on the table and said, “Bennett didn’t consider, when he went into a room with NVGs and saw a bunch of school kids asleep in their beds with no weapons near them, that he might want to back off? Maybe check with his Afghan teammates and ask the people they’d pulled out of the downstairs rooms what kind of facility they were in? Instead, Bennett just methodically shoots, with his silenced guns, all the kids in their beds, one-by-one, with no opposition? He wanted photos for his ‘kills’ wall. And we need to make the jury see it.”