Guilty?

"I nominate George as foreman." I spoke up as soon as the jury room door was closed; that would help with appearances.

"Honored," George answered, "but we all know who the best person to be foreman is. I nominate you Mike."

"Yes, yes, yes," echoed from the rest.

"OK," I said shaking my head. "Let's get this over with."

With 12 jurists to be accommodated, the table was like a small football field. Finally, everyone was settled down. I suggested a secret ballot to see where we stood.

"Split even, six to convict," I reported, "six innocent." Not as bad as I thought.

"Would someone who voted to convict be willing to speak in favor of that position?" I asked.

"Sure," John spoke up. "I just think she looks like a jewel thief."

"Looks like?" sweet grandmotherly Susan jumped in. "We're supposed to decide based on evidence, not looks."

And they were off to the races; at least some were. Seven of them trying to talk over one another. I made mental notes on where each seemed to be.

"Susan has a point," I suggested. "John, do you remember any evidence against the defendant." I would make it a point to always refer to her as "the defendant," never by her name, Cathy.

"Ah...." John paused. You could see him scratching his memory just like he was scratching his head.

"There wasn't much," Susan spoke up. "Why, they didn't even find the missing jewels."

Over the next three hours, I kept the conversation moving, as it drifted toward Susan's point of view.

"Yes your honor," I reported in open court, "we have reached a verdict."

Later that night, there was a quiet knock at my door.

"Thank you Mike," Cathy whispered, slipping into my arms. She looked gorgeous in diamonds.