Probity: A Legal Suspense Novel

by Thomas Gatta

  Dan looked at the other jurors. “So, can we vote on that now? Will you all at least agree to the procedure I just outlined?”

  Eleven heads nodded, “yes.”

  “Okay. Good. How about if we take half an hour, finish our lunches or what’s left of them, and think about what we need to tell each other about why we want to vote a particular way?”

  Eleven heads again nodded, “yes.”

  Dan moved back to his place at the table, “Excellent, we’ll start up again in 30 minutes. Be ready.”

  Ben looked down at the remains of his roast beef sandwich. Damn, he’d been hoping Dan was going to waste Vivian. The guy must have had too much experience dealing with soldiers and teenagers. Dan had checked his temper and was being accommodating and reasonable. Too bad. Vivian had it coming.

  - 66 -

  Dan was tired. The stump of his leg was hurting, and trying to be nice wasn’t helping him accomplish anything. Maybe he needed to change tactics.

  At 1:30 PM, Dan called the jurors back to their task. He stood up at the head of the table and looked slowly around at each juror. Then he outlined how he intended to proceed. Dan said he’d call on each of the jurors in alphabetical order, by their last names, to outline their thinking about whether the defendant was guilty or should be acquitted of the various charges. He said he would allow no more than five minutes for each person to speak. Then he’d call on the next juror to present, with no time extensions, no discussions, no debates, no bathroom breaks. After everyone had had their say, Dan said he would present his views and then take the final votes on each charge. Dan again looked at all the jury members and said slowly, “So, whatever the vote is—guilty or acquit—on each of the charges, that’s what’s going to the judge. Like Val and Bella, I think we have a responsibility to come together and reach agreement. If we can’t, if we’re too lazy, too disinterested, too conflicted, or too incompetent, so be it.” He paused, then said, “Then we won’t have fulfilled our responsibility. We won’t have done our duty. I did my duty in Iraq. I intend to do it here. I hope each of you will do the same.”

  Dan sat back down in his chair, then he said, “First up is Ben Hernandez. Ben, you have five minutes. Tell us why you think Bennett should be held accountable or acquitted on the charges.”

  - 67 -

  The jury had a verdict. The bailiff let the judge know. McNamara called for the court to reconvene at 4:00 PM.

  - 68 -

  Assadullah slid into this usual seat in the back of the courtroom. He noticed Kate was sitting a few rows in front of him with another woman who looked a bit older but a lot like her. Kate had told him she had a sister. Maybe that was who the woman was. Assadullah hoped so. He thought Kate needed someone with her today, regardless of what the jury decided.

  The jury had taken long enough in its deliberations. Assadullah wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad sign. He wanted things done, and he was ready. Assadullah looked toward the front of the room. The defendant was sitting with his lawyer. The lawyer looked nervous. Bennett didn’t. Assadullah shook his head. He didn’t understand Bennett, at all.

  The prosecutors also were in place. The woman prosecutor, Kozak, was playing with her pen and shifting around in her chair, but the male prosecutor, Gardner, was watching the door for the jury. A few minutes later, the jury filed in and sat down.

  The judge called the court together and asked the jury whether it had reached a verdict. The foreman, Dan O’Neill, said yes and gave a sealed envelope to the bailiff, who took it to the judge. She looked at it, and then gave it back to the bailiff for O’Neill. Then she asked O’Neill to announce the verdict.

  O’Neill told the court that the jury had found the defendant not guilty on all counts.

  Assadullah slipped out of the courtroom and headed to his car.

  - 69 -

  Maddie heard a combination of gasps and cheers. Judge McNamara banged her gavel, said a few words, and dismissed the court. Maddie looked over at Scott. He didn’t look surprised. Scott turned to her and offered his hand, saying “Maddie, it was a tough case, and you did a great job with little evidence. Don’t be hard on yourself.”

  Maddie shrugged, smiled a bit, and said, “Thanks. I know you worked really hard to help me. I appreciate that, and I learned a lot from you.”

  Maddie and Scott walked over to the defense table where Smith was standing by himself. They shook Smith’s hand and congratulated him. Smith thanked them and said, “This wasn’t an easy case. The jury took its time, and I think it had a hard decision.”

  Maddie nodded her head and said, “I hope so. I can’t say I’m surprised by the verdict, but I did hope it would go the other way, especially after we played the recordings.” She looked toward the back of the courtroom where Bennett was being congratulated by colleagues and the SU attorneys. “I was hoping for truth and accountability.”

  Smith shrugged. “We’re always hoping for that. The problem, though, is whose truth? That’s why we have to go with the law.” He smiled at Maddie and said, “But you know that.”

  Maddie nodded at him and turned back to the prosecution table where Scott was gathering up files.

  - 70 -

  Finally, finally it was done. Vivian smiled, waved good-bye to the other jurors, and headed quickly toward the lady’s room, her heels smacking the granite floor of the courthouse. She needed to make a stop before she dashed to her car. Maybe, just maybe, she could make it to her hair and nail appointment at 6:00. But that was assuming she didn’t get stuck in traffic tonight. If she was late, Vivian was afraid her hairdresser would refuse to do her color. Vivian had already cancelled three times this month because of the stupid trial. She had to get to the salon tonight. She just had to. She couldn’t go to the gala with her roots showing and nails untouched. Impossible.

  The judge had taken her own good time at the end of the trial. At least the jury had finally come to its senses, if late. Why couldn’t the jurors have decided this morning, or even better, days earlier in their deliberations? Oh well, at least things had finally gone her way.

  Vivian couldn’t believe who had provided her assistance in the end. She bet the other jurors were equally floored. They’d certainly looked that way after he’d spoken. She’d thought John Lawson was a geeky computer guy and that he’d been paying no attention to the proceedings. He’d looked like he was just drooling over his electronic devices and Bella. Turned out Lawson wasn’t paying all that much attention to the instructions because he was already familiar with court proceedings. He might have been watching Bella and her big boobs—all the guys were—but he also had been listening to every word in the trial. Later he’d been outlining his thoughts on one of his devices. The guy had actually gone to law school at Fordham and clerked for a federal judge before he’d had enough and shifted to IT work.

  Vivian had been worried, at first. Lawson had said he, personally, had no doubts that MEJA applied. Lawson also had explained that he believed Bennett had committed unnecessary, cruel acts and that he wanted to convict him. But then Lawson had said he couldn’t do what he wanted. He had said he was swayed by what Dan had said about duty. Lawson had told the jury that, although he was no longer practicing the law, he felt it was his responsibility to uphold it and represent it fairly. Then he’d convinced them all that the prosecutors needed more evidence to convict Bennett.

  Despite the defendant’s admissions during the several recordings, the situation wasn’t clear. Was the defendant being honest, or was alcohol fueling his boasts? Not sure. The defense had claimed that Bennett felt threatened during the raid. Perhaps, in that upstairs room, Bennett had heard a noise and reacted in a split second by killing all the boys. But was it murder? Or was it mission first? Uncertain. Lawson had emphasized that Ted was correct, not knowing what Bennett’s managers had told him to do was a problem. Perhaps they’d instructed Bennett, during his shadow operations, to hunt down and kill suspected adversaries. More uncertainty.

  Lawso
n had explained that, even if they all—well not Vivian and Ted—felt the same way about the defendant—that he was a thug in a suit—the prosecutors hadn’t eliminated any reasonable doubt about Bennett’s guilt. Lawson had said that, based on the limited evidence and testimonies presented and all the uncertainties, the defendant could not be convicted.

  Then the computer geek had asked the questions, “Who should be accountable here? Bennett? His bosses? Or Congress and the American public?” Lawson had looked at all the jurors and said, “Let’s be honest here, we all wanted terrorist networks unraveled. We all wanted to see evidence of the results of our fighting in Afghanistan. So, an increasing number of dead terrorists was one gauge of success. Did a drive for results encourage Bennett to do what he did?” Lawson shrugged and said, “Maybe. Or maybe the undeclared war he was fighting and the limited oversight brought out the worst in him. Gave him an opportunity to do what he’d always wanted—to kill. Who’s to know?” Then, Lawson had sat back in his chair and said, “As much as I don’t want it to be this way, I think we’ve got reasonable doubt that Bennett’s guilty of all the charges.”

  So, in the end, Dan had taken the votes again, and the jury had agreed, albeit reluctantly, to acquit Bennett on all counts.

  Vivian had cheered, but her fellow jurors had stared her down. The liberal prigs.

  Then Dan had thanked the jurors for their efforts. He said he, like Lawson, felt personally uncomfortable with the decision but believed it was the correct one. He’d told the other jurors that, as a former soldier, he didn’t like the way Bennett had been operating—in the shadows with little oversight. Dan had said he also could confirm what Lawson had suggested earlier, that war sometimes brings out the worst in men. Dan had speculated that, “Maybe that’s what happened with Bennett. He grew embittered, his moral compass deteriorated.”

  Dan had claimed that his fighting days in Iraq had changed him, causing him to question a lot of what he’d always believed. Dan had gone on about how there was no such thing as a “clean war” and that both sides always pay a price. He had told the other jurors that he knew that, in the areas where he fought, American soldiers sometimes committed brutal acts, far more vicious than the situations demanded. Dan said, “Many Iraqi civilians deeply resented US intervention.” Dan paused briefly, then commented, “I was lucky. I got to come home.” He looked down at his artificial leg and said, “Or at least most of me did. But the Iraqis, they had to stay and live with the consequences of the war. I imagine it’s the same in Afghanistan. The civilians, there, they had to stay, and they had to pay a heavy price.”

  Dan had leaned back in his chair and continued, “You know, I’m a history and US Government teacher now. I want to teach my students to think, to question things, to look at the consequences of actions. I want them to understand that things aren’t as simple, as clean, as the political slogans suggest.” He shifted forward and put his hands down flat on the table. Looking at the other jurors, he explained, “I want them to heed the warning of William Tecumseh Sherman. And for those of you who don’t know, he was a Union General during the Civil War. Sherman implemented a successful strategy of total warfare. He burned Atlanta and laid waste to Georgia, my grandmother’s home state. Anyway, Sherman said, “War is cruelty, and you cannot refine it.” He was right. It is. I know that first hand. That’s what happened in Iraq, and that’s what’s happened in Afghanistan. And I think we, as Americans, have to be careful about waging war—whether declared or not. We also need to be careful what we ask of the people who carry it out. Particularly people like Bennett, who operate with different rules.”

  Dan had smiled and stood up, “So, I guess my history/government lesson is over. Is everyone good with me calling the bailiff and letting the judge know we’re ready?”

  Vivian tossed her paper towel into the bin, adjusted her blouse, and checked her hair in the mirror. Yes, her roots definitely needed attention. Then she grabbed her cell phone out of her purse and headed out the restroom door. She passed several other jurors on her way to the exit, but Vivian ignored them. She just didn’t have time right now. She pressed numbers into her cell phone, but, unfortunately, no one at the salon was picking up. It figured. She’d try again when she got to her car.

  - 71 -

  Assadullah returned from his car and waited on one side of the steps of the courthouse. He figured Bennett would leave from the front door, not skulk out the back way. After all, Bennett thought he’d won. As he waited, Assadullah watched the crowd carefully. He didn’t want to miss his chance. Then he saw Kate. She walked over to him, bringing the woman who had been sitting next to her in the courtroom.

  Kate said, “I’m really sorry, Assadullah. I know the verdict wasn’t what either of us wanted. But we tried, and the prosecutors tried. Now at least it’s done. Maybe we both can move on now.”

  Assadullah, watching over Kate’s shoulder, nodded to her and responded, “Yes, soon, I will finish things.”

  Kate drew the other woman forward and said, “Assadullah, I’d like you to meet my big sister, Karla. She came down from New Jersey, and I’ll be traveling back north with her tonight.”

  Assadullah shook Karla’s hand and exchanged greetings with her, but kept an eye on the courthouse door.

  Kate asked him, “Are you waiting for someone?”

  “Yes. Bennett.”

  Kate frowned. “Why? Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “Yes.”

  Kate noticed that Assadullah was wearing a loose jacket and had his hand in his pocket. She also saw a bulge that looked larger than his hand.

  Kate frowned, looked at Assadullah, and said, “Assadullah, you do understand that this is over? Please tell me you’re not planning something that, in this country, is illegal?”

  Assadullah stared at Kate and said, “Kate, I thank you for being my friend, but your American courts did not do the right, honest thing. I must.”

  “No, Assadullah. No more violence.”

  Then Karla, who was standing next to Kate and looking worried by the exchange between Kate and Assadullah, was jostled as a woman in a green dress squeezed past her and laid a hand on Assadullah’s arm.

  The woman, slender and dark, said, “Assadullah, I am sorry to interrupt, but I have important news for you.”

  Assadullah stepped back and looked at the woman. “Atefa, what are you doing here? Is something wrong? Why are you not at work?”

  The woman looked at Assadullah’s coat pocket and back up at him. “Yes, very wrong.” She frowned. “I heard the news about the trial on the radio. You must let the temptation of vengeance go. Please. Let it go.” She held onto his arm. “And something is very right. You can put away your hate and replace it with love. We are going to be starting our own family here, in Virginia, in about six months, my doctor tells me.”

  Assadullah focused all his attention on Atefa, forgetting his surveillance of the courthouse door. “What? Atefa?”

  The woman smiled. “Yes. If it’s a boy, we can name him Haji, if you want.” Atefa grinned at Kate and Karla. “But I’d like a girl, too. Women can do so much here in America, things that I only dreamed about in Afghanistan.”

  Kate and Karla smiled at Assadullah and Atefa. Kate held out her hand to Atefa and said, “You must be Assadullah’s wife? I’m so pleased to meet you, and happy for your good news!”

  Atefa beamed at Kate and Karla, “Yes, I’m Atefa. I’m so excited!” Still holding Assadullah’s arm and moving closer to him to prevent him from withdrawing his hand from his pocket, she looked up at him and said, “It’s a wish come true. Let it happen, Assadullah. Live by mercy. Build your new family here in America.”

  Assadullah sighed and looked at Atefa. Then he smiled. “Atefa, I want a son first. Then a daughter after that.”

  Atefa grinned at him. “We’ll just have to see. Perhaps it will be twins.”

  Just then, Assadullah saw Bennett walking down the courthouse steps with a group of his colleagues. At
least some of the men were the members of Bennett’s team and had testified during the trial. Kate noticed the men, too, and looked at Assadullah.

  Kate said, “Let it go, Assadullah. It’s done.”

  He nodded and responded, “Yes,” then looked at Atefa, “I have more important things to focus on now.”

  Kate smiled and responded, “You most definitely do.” Then Kate turned to her sister and said, “And I think it’s time for me to do the same.”

  Karla started to say something, then she and the others turned and looked down the steps as they heard a commotion on the street in front of the courthouse.

  - 72 -

  Maddie was standing and talking with Scott on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse when she saw Bennett and some of his team emerge from the building. Bennett grinned as he accepted the congratulations, handshakes, and backslaps of his colleagues. Then he turned and walked down the steps toward the parking garage across the street from the courthouse. One of his colleagues, Maddie thought it was Mortimer, called out to Bennett as he reached the street and started to cross, “Hey, we’re all coming to your place tonight. We’ll bring the booze, just make sure you’ve got the steaks for the grill.”

  Bennett turned back to the group on the steps while he continued across the street. He waved and yelled, “Make sure you don’t just bring beer. Bring a big bottle of Johnnie Red, too! Make that two bottles!”

  It happened fast. Maddie heard a horn, the squeal of breaks, a thud. She thought bones crunched. She looked. A white Cadillac Escalade had skidded to a stop, and a blondish woman in a designer pantsuit bounced out, tossing her cell phone back into the vehicle. The woman looked down at the street and started screaming. Bennett was sprawled on the pavement in a pool of blood. Part of his skull was bashed in. Maddie felt sick.