Fly On The Wall

"What are you talking about, man?" This was the first time Jason, the bus driver, had joined in. "Nobody but him said a single word about those bullets. Why should we take his word for it?"

"Because nobody but him said a single word about those bullets. Nobody. I've often found that the most important evidence is the evidence you don't hear. If you thought of it, you would expect to hear it, but you don't. For most people it's just a nagging feeling that something is wrong. When you finally figure out what it is that's missing, it's completely obvious. Do you remember what the firearms expert said about the bullets remaining in the gun?"

They thought about it and Sarah said, "He didn't say anything."

"Exactly. I know you guys don't have any legal training, but imagine yourself as the prosecutor. Your firearms expert comes to you and tells you he has tested the remaining bullets. One of them is an original, unchanged. He may even have told you that none of them have been changed, but let's just assume there was only one. Would you have him testify to that?"

"Of course," she answered.

"Absolutely," said Vince.

"If there had been even a single regular bullet left in that gun and he had testified to that, would we convict Leon?"

"Yes," said Mr. Cruz.

"Yes," said Raymond.

"Yes," said Terry.

"Is Mr. Bishop stupid?"

No one answered.

"Were all the remaining bullets in his gun made by Leon with the special load?"

Irene Granger was leaning across the fencing, what used to be called the bar that lawyers had to pass, holding her husband's hands. She looked genuinely concerned for him. She looked devoted to him. Maybe she was just scared to death of him or had come to the understanding that she should stay true to her vows to him, particularly in light of the fact that he was an expert marksman. I didn't know if she had been seduced or was just ready to party. I didn't know if this was a brief mistake or an indictment of the state of their marriage. She squeezed his hands and sat down.

We were walking to our seats in the jury box. I don't know what the others were thinking.

I was resolving to be more courteous in court. I was resolving to reserve the sarcasm, enjoyable as it might be, for gatherings with my family and friends who might put up with that annoyance.

"Has the jury reached a verdict?"

I would not hurl personal epithets at witnesses or opposing counsel. I would treat people in court with as much respect as I could muster, or fake.

"We have, Your Honor," said Vince.

I would not tell a witness he was a liar, unless he demonstrated it repeatedly. I would tell him he was lying or that his statement was untrue. Hate the sin, not the sinner.

"In the matter of The Commonwealth versus Leon Granger, on the charge of Attempted Murder, what say you?"

I would say it in a pleasant tone of voice, revealing myself to be a genuinely admirable human being. But if the bastard kept lying and evading my questions, I would rip him a new ... Old habits die hard.

"We find the defendant not guilty."