Page 79 of Grave Danger
“That’s all the information I have, Mr. Swyteck.”
Jack thanked her, and the call ended.
At noon, as ordered, Jack, Zahra, and Yasmin appeared outside the electronically secured door to Judge Carlton’s chambers. Jack had gone to Zahra’s town house first, and they’d kept the conversation light since picking up Yasmin from school. He’d explained what a courtroom is, what judges do, and why they wear black robes. The “field trip” continued all the way to Judge Carlton’s chambers.
“Yasmin, this is where the very nice judge and his helpers do their work when they’re not in the courtroom.”
“What if he’s not nice?” asked Yasmin.
“Oh, he’ll be very nice to you, Yasmin.” Jack couldn’t say the same for the lawyers.
The door opened, and the three of them entered the reception area. A young woman introduced herself as Judge Carlton’s law clerk and took Zahra and Yasmin to the conference room. The judge’s assistant escortedJack down the hall to the judge’s private chambers. Farid’s lawyer was waiting in one of the wing chairs. Jack sat in the open chair. Judge Carlton entered from the robing room and took a seat behind his desk, facing the lawyers. He greeted them and then delivered the news.
“Counsel, I’ve summoned you here because I have changed my mind about moving forward with a forensic psychiatric examination of Zahra Bazzi.”
Jack thought his opposing counsel might jump up and dance a jig. He saw little chance of winning the case without an independent expert’s opinion that Zahra’s inability to testify about Farid’s abuse was due to PTSD.
“Bottom line is that the process takes too long,” the judge continued. “We could be looking at weeks, not days.”
“Judge, in the scheme of things, a few weeks is not an unreasonable delay,” said Jack.
“My client has been separated from his daughter for over a year,” said Beech. “A few weeks is an eternity.”
“There’s a better solution,” the judge said. “But it will require the cooperation of both parties.”
The lawyers listened as the judge described a technique used to great effect by the Honorable Denny Chin, a highly respected federal district judge in New York who had since taken senior status on the court of appeals.
“Judge Chin was a pioneer and an innovator in abduction cases under the Hague Convention,” the judge said. “He also graduated magna cum laude with a BA in psychology from Princeton University, so it’s fair to say he knew his way around the block.”
Jack had read about Chin in preparing for Zahra’s case, which gave him a hint as to where Judge Carlton was heading.
“Judge Chin recognized that the rules in a Hague proceeding are relaxed for good reason—namely, the child’s well-being. He understood long ago that sometimes the best interest of the child calls for an unconventional approach.
“So, with a tip of the hat to Judge Chin, here’s what I propose. I want to sit down with Yasmin here in my chambers. Just the two of us, one on one. No lawyers, no parents. A court-appointed forensic psychiatrist will be in the room with us, but only to observe. I will not be wearing my scary blackrobe. It’ll be more like a visit with my grandchildren. We’ll watch the Disney channel, color, play cards—whatever it takes for her to feel comfortable. I want to talk to her. I want to observe her.”
“Will there be a court reporter, or is this off the record?” asked Jack.
“No court reporter.”
“What about the lawyers?” asked Beech. “Can we observe and listen too?”
The judge considered it. “I don’t want you in the room with me, but I think I can make it work.”
“How?” asked Jack.
“For better or worse, after the attack on the Capitol on January the sixth, I had security cameras installed. Technically, they’re only for an emergency—in case some lunatic wearing buffalo horns on his head comes charging in here to kidnap me and my law clerks at spearpoint. But I could have the marshals activate the cameras.”
“What about audio?” asked Jack.
“I have a mic I use for judicial conferences. We can put it right there on the coffee table.”
“I like the approach,” said Jack. “But I’ll have to confirm with my client.”
“Of course,” the judge said. “Ms. Beech? Thoughts?”
“What if my client chooses not to consent?” she asked.
The judge leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms atop the desk. “Well, Ms. Beech, that would be very disappointing.”