Local Lit

She did not feel afraid of the charges against her. Convinced they were bogus, she could not believe any jury would convict her. She worried more about Emad’s case. Post September 11, the anti-Arab sentiment ran high, and she believed a talented prosecutor could capitalize on that fear to obtain a conviction. She worried Emad’s new lawyers were not adequately representing him, because she believed no one worked as hard as she did for her clients.

But maybe she should worry more about the case against her. Maybe a jury would not see the facts in the same way she did. And if she was convicted, would a judge send her, a seasoned and respected lawyer, to prison, simply because she went a little out of her way to help her client? Probably not, but she had done enough jury trials and seen enough clients sentenced to know that anything could happen. Clients she had been sure would be convicted were found not guilty and clients she was sure were innocent were convicted and sentenced to long prison terms. She even had one client who had been sentenced to death.

The thing she hated more than anything, the thing that drove her to be a public defender, was her hatred of government abusing its power. When the government overreached, bringing charges against someone who was really innocent or bringing more serious charges than the facts warranted, she tried to do everything in her power to fight them. She didn’t want to do anything to assist them in their game. Now that it was her life, how could she do less than what she would do for a client? She wanted to go to trial, regardless of how much stress and disruption it caused her.

But now she had this other person-to-be to think about. Paul was right. She had no business representing Emad now anyway. She should just take the deal and get on with her life, forget about asking Emad’s opinion.

Rita Jane and Audrey definitely wanted her to take the deal, but they knew her too well to tell her so. “Whatever you think is best,” was all they would say when she asked them what she should do. They knew that if she knew that they were trying to pressure her, she would do exactly the opposite of what they wanted.

In despair, she read her horoscope looking for guidance. When it gave her none, she remembered her promise to Paul that she would talk with Emad. She called his new lawyers and asked their permission to meet with him. When they agreed she called the prison and made arrangements to visit that afternoon.

The guard led her into the 3-by-5-foot Plexiglas cubicle that served as the “contact” meeting room. It was difficult to maneuver with her big belly. Once in, she couldn’t easily turn around. She watched Emad’s face light up when he saw her and realized this was the first time that he had seen her visibly pregnant.

“It is so good to see you my friend,” he said, trying to shake her hand with both of his cuffed together. To her surprise, Emad looked well. Much better than he had the last time she had visited. She knew the same could not be said of her.

Claudia explained to him the “deal,” that all charges against her would be dismissed if she agreed not to resume representing Emad. She told him how reluctant she had been to ask him what to do, because she didn’t want to put him in the position of having to decide.

He nodded as she spoke and when she finished he said, “You did the right thing to tell me.” She waited for him to say more. “I think you should take the deal.” She started to protest but he interrupted her, “I’m not just saying this for your sake, I’m saying it for mine, too.”

A stab of hurt passed through her. She braced herself for more rejection. “We’re too close, you and I. We’re friends really. I think it’s better to have lawyers who I don’t care about so much. I am less guarded with them.”

“Gee thanks,” she said morosely, but she knew what he meant.

“It’s not personal. You’re a great lawyer and you’re a great person, but right now I’d like to see you focus on your baby and get out of this mess.”

She started crying and Emad looked horrified. “I hurt your feelings.” He patted her on the shoulder with his shackled hands.

“It’s not that,” Claudia said. “I cry over everything these days.”

He looked relieved. “My wife did, too,” he said.

Claudia considered trying to talk him out of it, but she knew she needed to let go. She suspected it had been difficult for Emad to be so honest with her.

“Are they doing a good job for you, these big firm lawyers?”

“They’re not as good as you, obviously,” he said.

“Right answer,” she smiled.

“There are two of them doing the work that you were doing alone. One of them is very experienced and one is very green.” He smiled. “I like the green one better. She’s not so jaded. The older one thinks he knows exactly how things are going to go in the case, but the younger one is open to ideas or suggestions I make. Plus, she’s new to Washington and she’s lonely. She comes to visit me, even on weekends. I keep telling her she needs to get a life. Sarah is starting to get jealous.” He chuckled.

Claudia wondered if maybe Emad had a crush on his young lawyer, but she was comforted by the image of the nervous young lawyer visiting her client on the weekends. The idea occurred to her that maybe she should call up the lawyer and invite her to lunch — offer to mentor her. Who are you kidding, Connors, you’d probably faint if you got in a cab to go downtown for lunch. Let go.

“You’ll be at the hearings?” Emad asked.

She nodded. “Even if my case is dismissed, I think Weymouth will still want me to be a witness.”

“Good, my lawyers are filing a motion to get permission for me to attend the entire hearing. I doubt it will be granted, but it sure would be nice to have a week or two outside of this place.”

A guard walked by and held up his right hand and mouthed the words, “Five more minutes.”

Claudia started to protest, but realized she wasn’t his lawyer anymore so her visits were restricted to half an hour.

“Are they treating you okay?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It’s like everywhere else, there are decent guards and there are — well, to be blunt — assholes. Like that one. He’s definitely a hole.”

Claudia giggled at Emad’s uncharacteristic language. At least he hadn’t lost his sense of humor.

“Some of the inmates call me the A-rab terrorist, that’s how they say it, A with a long A, rab. But some think I’m getting a bum rap. I’m not hassled much because the guards keep me in protective custody. I don’t go out to the yard with the other prisoners. I eat meals in my cell. I’m basically alone all the time.”

It was always difficult for Claudia to hear about what her client’s lives were like in jail. It was too painful. It was especially hard with a man like Emad, a gentle man who had never done a violent act in his life. He wasn’t cut out for prison life. “I wish we could get you out of here,” she said. “Have your lawyers suggested doing another bail hearing?”

“They have, but they thought maybe we should wait until after the hearings. If the U.S. Attorney’s office gets a lot of negative publicity, the judge might be more sympathetic.”

Claudia doubted that would happen, but she said, “There’s always hope,” even though she wasn’t sure she felt any.

The guard unlocked the door and announced that it was time for her to leave.

“Thank you, my friend, for everything,” he said, bowing his head and putting his hands together.

Claudia managed a sad smile and left quickly before the tears started again.