Confessions of a Serial Alibi (17 page)

The first thing he attacked was the contents of my letters. He badgered me about how I came to know that the library had cameras (which is something I stated in my first letter). I told him that I had called the library and whoever answered the telephone confirmed that they had a video surveillance system. He responded by asking me to state when that call took place and of course that was a question that I could not answer.

Vignarajah then referenced that I had not put a specific alibi time in my first letter. He asked if I could see how someone could read my letter (the part about 2:15-8 PM) and think I was offering to cover more than fifteen to twenty minutes of Adnan’s day (a false alibi)? To me the question was idiotic because at the time I wrote Adnan the letters I wasn’t anticipating that anyone else would be reading Adnan’s mail. When you think about it, if a third party was going to attempt to interpret my message intended solely for Adnan, then the fault of misinterpretation should fall solely on that person, not me. In truth, that person could make whatever assumptions their brain could muster. Hell, they could assume that Asia McClain wasn’t even a real, live, breathing person, instead a figment of Adnan’s imagination (AKA the next conspiracy theory to hit the web). I just can’t see how my testimony or I should be held accountable for such an error, so that’s basically how I addressed Thiru’s question.

After that Thiru wanted to address the manner in which my second letter was written. Was it previously a hand-written letter that was later typed? Yes. Did I write it during CIP class and if so, where’s the rough draft? Come on now! Really? Where’s the rough draft? It’s been over sixteen years! For all I know that letter has since decomposed in a landfill and been reincarnated as a noxious ground weed. Thiru didn’t see it fit to stop there; he began to give me the third degree over why I joked about Adnan getting named prom king.

Then Vignarajah pointed out that in the heading of my second letter to Adnan, I had placed Adnan’s inmate ID number. He pressed me on how I gained knowledge of that information so soon after his arrest. The hell if I know, so I admitted that I could not recall. He questioned how I knew about Hae’s shallow grave and details including the location of her corpse. This question hit me the hardest out of all his questions. As I tried to answer I found myself thinking about Hae’s dead body. The image of her lifeless foot sticking out from her shallow grave flashed in my mind. I was only able to get out two sentences when I simultaneously thought about my grandfather’s best friend who had just died weeks before. I thought about the last time I had been to Baltimore and saw Mr. Dave. How he had just held my son and me in his arms and hugged us so hard that it hurt.

As I began to cry I choked up the words, “Whenever someone passes, you try to remember when you last saw or spoke to that person. When we found out that Hae was dead, I tried but I couldn’t remember when I last saw Hae, but I did remember talking to Adnan about her on January 13th in the library.” With that one statement, the tears came and I began to cry. Once the tears came, my face began to uncontrollably wince up. The thought of what happened to Hae all those years ago often makes me very sad. Add in pregnancy hormones and it took me a moment to get my tears to stop. Luckily, Vignarajah and Brown had just asked Judge Welch to approach the bench. What the two legal teams discussed with Judge Welch is beyond me. All I know is that someone gave me tissues and Vignarajah asked me if I needed extra time to get myself together. I refused, dried my eyes and continued to answer his questions.

As we went on, Vignarajah questioned my knowledge of terms like “central booking” and “fibers.” Considering that I had already admitted to not knowing the technical term for where new inmates are held, he found it peculiar that I would use the term “central booking” in my letter. For this I had no particular explanation. Kids gossip. Who knows? Vignarajah insinuated that there was no possible way that I could be familiar with such terms outside of being spoon-fed them by Adnan himself. Vignarajah asked if anyone had put me up to writing to Adnan. I responded, “No.” Then he accused me of writing my second letter on or after March 20th, 1999, and backdating it in order to serve as a false alibi. He highlighted things like my usage of phrases like “The other day (Monday)” and “the gossip is dead for your associates; it’s starting to get old.” I of course thought these accusations were complete nonsense. Frankly, it pissed me off and I wanted to tell him to leave me the hell alone. I can’t even entertain a scenario in which I would be ballsy enough to involve myself in such a high-stakes, low probability-of-working scheme, let alone carrying it out for over sixteen years, when I could have easily have walked away, free from the risk of perjury back in 2010. The idea is as far-fetched as it is stupid. So I answered the question the most respectful way I could, by stating that what he was claiming was impossible because I did not write my second letter on or after March 20th; I wrote it on March 2nd and I left it at that.

Just when I thought his insults were done, Vignarajah came forward with the mother lode of conspiracy theories. He talked about a handwritten note by one of the Baltimore city detectives back in 1999. Apparently they had conducted an interview with a fellow classmate Ju’uan Gordon. At some point after Adnan’s arrest, Ju’uan had been in contact with him. During one of these conversations Adnan mentioned something about wanting character reference letters in addition to letters that might assist him with bail review. Apparently during Ju’uan’s police interview he told them about this interaction with Adnan. Ju’uan said that Adnan tried reaching out to other students for assistance with letters. In some manner Ju’uan mentioned that Adnan communicated the intention of asking me to send such a letter. Unfortunately the police officer’s notes from this interview looked very vague. All that I see is a vague reference to my name and another note with my name listed with a question mark next to it. I think that’s the reason Thiru didn’t enter the police officer’s note into evidence. I don’t think he wanted Judge Welch to see how bullshit it was.

Personally, when I look at the notes I envision a scenario in which Ju’uan was confused. I could easily imagine him confusing the knowledge that I had written Adnan letters with Adnan asking for letters. I could see the possibility that Ju’uan may have been under the impression that I didn’t think my first and second letters had ever reached Adnan. After all, I was never contacted by the defense and never understood why. If only I could remember whom I told about writing letters and whether I was under the impression that they had not been received. Then, I could say for sure that Ju’uan knew about it prior to his police interview and simply confused the two scenarios as being the same. Perhaps that is what resulted in the police notation “she got the address wrong.”

In any case, during his cross-examination Vignarajah used this vague notation as a means of including me in some sort of outlandish conspiracy to provide Adnan Syed with a false alibi and character witness. He also tried to state that had I received such instructions from Adnan, it could have provided the foundation for my knowledge of certain key case facts (central booking, shallow grave, fibers, etc.) Feeling completely slandered I responded with the only thing I could say. Adnan, nor anyone from Adnan’s legal team or family, had ever contacted me in regard to writing Adnan an alibi or character witness letters.

Vignarajah of course didn’t accept this as truth, seeing that he continues to slander my character and lie about my motivations both in court and via any press conference awarded to him.

Redirection

After Vignarajah’s attempts to discredit me were through, it became Brown’s turn to redirect. Once again, Brown brought into question my 1999 library conversation with Syed. This time he inquired about specifics, mainly who brought up Hae in the conversation. “I did,” I answered.

Then Brown attacked Thiru’s cockamamie theory that I was a co-conspired and false alibi. Brown reiterated that fact that I had both written a rough draft and typed a finished version of my second letter to Syed (in 1999). He then asked if upon typing my letter I had taken the liberty of adding things that weren’t included in the first letter. I confirmed this to be true and Brown continued. Brown stated that considering I had not typed my second letter until later on the day of March 2nd, I had approximately two days to gather intel and rumors from other students. I confirmed again and then Brown asked if I had been aware that police had interviewed several students in the days after Syed’s arrest and in between mailing my second letter. “Yes,” I answered.

Then Brown asked if there was a possibility that I may have interjected my new-found intel and rumors into the final draft of my second letter. “Yes, I definitely did!” I answered. With that, Brown questioned how I came to know certain details, like the fact that Syed was in central booking and the fact that Hae’s body had been found in a shallow grave. However, he asked whether it was possible that information could have been part of the student rumor mill. I concurred that his theory was the more likely. As I did, I once again recalled hearing about Hae’s murder and all the imagery that comes along with those memories. I felt the tears start to come again, but this time I was able to choke them back before embarrassing myself.

Then Brown did something that no one expected. He walked over to the projector and placed two
Baltimore Sun
clippings on the screen. One article was from February 12th and the other from March 1st of 1999. In the first article dated February 12th it reads:

“The body of a young woman found Tuesday
buried in a shallow grave
in Baltimore’s
Leakin Park
was identified yesterday as an 18-year-old Woodlawn Senior High School student who disappeared nearly four weeks ago.”

The second article read:

“Adnan Musud Syed was arrested about 6 a.m. at his home in the 7000 block of Johnnycake Road in Woodlawn, Baltimore County, and
taken to the Central
Booking
and Intake Center, where he was charged as an adult with first-degree murder.”

Then Brown looked me square in my face and asked if there was any possibility that anyone from school may have seen these articles, and whether it’s safe to say that the information contained within the articles was common knowledge. “Yes,” I answered, and in that moment Justin Brown became my hero.

Up until Vignarajah put the screws to me, I had never questioned how I came to know certain details. I simply didn’t have an answer for how I came to know particular pieces of information sixteen years after the fact. Outside of gossip from other students who had been interviewed by the police, I never would have remembered whether or not the information had been in the press. I realize now that it should have been an obvious assumption on my part. Brown then followed up by asking if I had ever been asked by Adnan, his family or anyone else to write a letter providing an alibi. I answered no to this of course.

As part of his closing statement, Brown asked if anyone from the current prosecution had reached out to me in regard to the current hearing. I answered that my lawyer, Mr. Proctor, had indeed extended a personal invitation to Vignarajah soliciting my participation, but that no one from the state had contacted either of us, after which, Brown said something to the effect of: “Mrs. McClain, back in 1999 were you ever contacted by anyone on Syed’s defense team?”

“Unfortunately,
no
,” I answered. With that Brown was done.

Now, almost like a scorned revengeful little man-child, Vignarajah stood up to redirect with one abrasive question towards me.

“Isn’t it true that the last time you talked to a prosecutor in this case, you went on to call him a liar?”

When Thiru asked this question my blood began to simmer just a little bit. Up to that point, I never engaged in name-calling any person of interest. I was so angry that Thiru would purposely accuse me of doing something that I had made a point to
avoid
doing. I looked him square in his eyes and with a smile and the glare of all the pissed off black women before me I said, “I actually never called him a liar. I’ve only ever stated what I know to be the truth.”

This of course felt so good to say. As you can tell, I really don’t care for people to who try to put words in my mouth. The fact that Urick misinterpreted and/or misrepresented the contents of our conversation doesn’t make me the bad guy. The sentiment that how dare I challenge a prosecutor is one that I have had enough time to chew, swallow and digest. I’m absolutely 100 percent over it.

The Aftermath

After testifying I was asked to leave the room. Another witness was coming in to testify and because of the sequestration I was not allowed to hear their testimony. As I walked out of the courtroom doors, the only face I wanted to see was Phillip’s. Only then could I begin to relax. I wasn’t quite sure how I had done. I felt as if I had done well, however when you’re addressing random questions in the manner I did, it can leave you feeling questionable.

As I hugged my husband, a slight sense of confusion came over me. Was Phillip up next? Could we leave? To our surprise we were told that Phillip’s testimony was not going to be needed. Apparently, my testimony was found to have been so forthright and credible that there was no need to have Phillip corroborate a thing. I have to admit, hearing that news sure felt good. During the whole process I had felt so insecure about my testimony. It’s amazing how the pressure of the scrutiny can make you begin to doubt yourself. You’d be amazed how easy it is to become obsessed with sounding truthful, regardless of the fact that you’re actually telling the truth. I had to come to grips with the fact that my testimony wasn’t going to be “perfect.” Sounds silly to say, but from day one I have struggled greatly with the fact that I cannot remember more than I do. Even down to the moment when the words left my lips, I found it torturous to say the words “I don’t remember” or “I don’t know.” It doesn’t make matters any better when you have a prosecutor hell bent on making you say it as many times as he can. As if almost to use your own humanity against you.