The judge seated on the bench brought the gavel down to begin court proceedings. Detective Samuel Wainwright was the first witness of the day.

"Detective Wainwright, will you tell the good people of the jury exactly what you saw when you entered Mr. Spencer Bertram's den?" asked prosecutor, William Atkins.

"Well, the first thing I noticed was the smell of smoke. Someone had been puffing on a cigar. Remnants of the guilty stogie were evidently meant to be left by the perpetrator of the crime. Ashes were placed neatly on the victim's chest, complementing the bullet hole in his forehead.

"The den itself was a disaster, furniture was tossed around and carpets were torn from the floor. Something of great value must have been the reason that this poor sap was eliminated."

"Your Honor, I object, Mr. Bertram was not a poor sap and it has yet to be established that this was a burglary."

"Quite right, Mr. Bertram should be addressed in a respectable manner. As for whether or not this was a burglary the jury will decide that. Continue."

"Thank you, Your Honor. I walked over to the criminal's place of entrance, a shattered window in the den. Peering out, I saw shoeprints in the flowerbed beneath the window sill. They were visible because a full moon was lighting up the night. From my perspective, the shattered window gave the moon a broken appearance. It was really quite eerie."

"I object, Your Honor. No one wants to hear about a broken moon," said Mason Quigley, lawyer for the defense.

"Objection sustained. Detective Wainwright, please stick to the evidence that is pertinent to this case."

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Proceed, Detective," replied Judge July August.

"When I went to examine the shoeprints, I noticed the faint scent of perfume in the air. I recognized it as that of Mrs. Agatha Bertram's, whom I had previously notified as to her husband's demise."

"Your Honor," interjected defense attorney Quigley, "Mrs. Bertram has already testified that she went to the broken window and looked out of it, of course the scent of her perfume would still be lingering about when Detective Wainwright examined the shoeprints."

"Point taken, continue detective. And try not to bring up evidence that has already been revealed to the jury. Please, come up with something original."

"Your Honor," said prosecutor Atkins, "I feel that that you are being biased on the side of the defense."

"What! Rise to your feet Atkins when you address this bench. One more insulting remark like that out of you and I'll hold you in contempt of court. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Proceed, Detective Wainwright."

"The shoeprints were definitely that of a man's shoe. They were large- size 13, the same size of shoe as Mr. Bertram's, to be exact. The crime lab, however, measured the indentations that the culprit left in the soil, to be that of a 98 pound woman, the same weight as Mrs. Bertram."

"Objection, Your Honor," said defense attorney Quigley. "There is no evidence the shoeprints were made by a woman. There are hanging vines that surround the window. A heavy man could easily diminish his weight by lifting himself up by these vines, thus leaving a lesser impression in the soil of the flowerbed."

"Points well taken, the jury is instructed to take these into consideration and disregard the 98 pound woman remark," said the good judge.

After hours more of testimony the time had come to end the proceedings for the day.

Prosecutor Atkins had still yet to produce his star witness to the crime. The defendant, Mrs. Agatha Bertram, would not walk away.

At exactly 8:15 pm that evening, Atkins received an anonymous call. The voice on the line was vaguely familiar; it said to meet at Jim's Diner. Atkins was to request the table for two in the back. It was the most private table in the joint. The caller would easily be identified by the wearing of a black rose, the voice said- "I'll be there at 8:45, don't be late."

Atkins moved quickly, as he was a good twenty minutes from Jim's Diner. When he got there, he took a seat at the previously mentioned table and was shocked to see Judge July August enter the diner a minute later. She was wearing a black rose in the lapel of her jacket.

"I have to get Agatha off," said the judge. "There is a Mr. James Bigelow who will testify to being with Aggie in her bedroom while the murder of Spencer was taking place. I just can't let my blood, my cousin, go to jail."

"She's your cousin?" Atkins was stunned. "I have enough evidence to easily put her away."

"I'll cut you a deal," said Judge July August. "I know how you covet my place on the bench. I'll step down, and promise to support you, so that you will get my position."

"That might be just what your cousin needs to get away with murder," said a smiling Atkins.

And of course it was.