Le Défenseur!

"And that, Your Honor, is why my client, Mrs. Daffodil J. Peters-Smith, widow of the community-loved Nathaniel Patrick Bartholomew Christopher Jedidiah Smith IV, is beyond all reasonable doubt not guilty of the heinous crimes for which she has been accused; and I will defend that fact in front of this here court. As you can see, the prosecution has presented not a shred of evidence implicating my client in the grisly death of her husband. Everything they have presented is here-say and is circumstantial. Your Honor, to commit her to the highest penalty under these paltry assumptions would be unconscionable and vile before the eyes of the law! As you can see before you, how likely do you think this sweet old lady is capable of the murder of her husband?"

"Oh, no, I definitely killed him," said Mrs. Smith demurely as she sat in the chair with an affectionate maternal smile. Her fingers grabbed her dress as though she tried to knit compulsively, although her thread and needles were confiscated prior to her arraignment.

The silence in the courtroom was suddenly so palpable that not even a knife could hope to cut it. The judge sat, mouth agape, as the stenographer ceased their clacking. The prosecution ceased breathing altogether and Mrs. Peters-Smith's lawyer, reliable old Henry 'Bims' Bimsbergerbeldt of the renowned Vancouver Bimsbergerbeldts, began to weep silently. Likewise, a pin had dropped in the gallery, though no one could hear it as it was courteous enough to respect the present atmosphere with all due silence.

The judge reached for his gavel and prepared to strike the podium. "Well, I believe we have an admission of guilt. Let us move onto sentenci-"

"Wait!" Shouted Mr. Bims. He looked back to the gallery, where the boss of his law firm was looking with ardent dissatisfaction. "I mean objection! The woman is obviously insane! At least allow a cross examination of the witness, Your Honor!"

The Judge sighed and replaced his gavel cautiously. "I'll allow it, although any further outbursts will have you held in contempt, Mr. Bimsbergerbelt."

"Understood, your honor."

The Judge cleared his throat and struck the gavel. "Let the prosecution examine the accused."

The prosecutor, one James Jameson Jibbermy, or 'Triple J Stevens' as he was called in the regional semi-professional badminton circuit, approached Mrs. Peters-Smith, who by now had knitted the front of her dress into a small squirrel-sized scarf.

"Ma'am, are you aware of the state your husband was found in?"

"Yes," she said, patiently scanning the courtroom for squirrels.

"Are you aware that your kitchen's knife block was missing a chef's knife?"

"Yes." She had still not found a squirrel, much to her dismay.

"Then you are also aware that the missing knife was found embedded in your husband's chest."

"Between the third and fourth rib, two inches from the sternum and five inches deep. A very solid blow." She said matter-of-factly.

"Then this is how you killed him?"

"No."

Mr. Jibbermy held his hand to his chest in shock. "No? How then?"

"Well, you see, I was disappointed when I found that strychnine was stuck on back-order at the pharmacy. Instead I have been putting entire packages of powdered laxatives in his coffee for many weeks, and the man did enjoy his coffee. He drank it like water. He hasn't been regular since early January. To be honest, I didn't think the dolt would last as long as he had, but he had an iron stomach, that one."

The whisper of a cop in the back of the gallery carried up the way, "Well, that explains the smell of the crime scene."

The courtroom was still deathly silent, as though the room had been cleared by the late Nathaniel Patrick Bartholomew Christopher Jedidiah Smith IV himself.

"So how did the knife get there?" Mr. Jibbermy asked, attempting to quietly hide his obvious retching.

The woman shrugged. "Ah, that is the question. I don't go near the things, too dangerous, too stabby. Lots of things can go wrong around a knife."

"I've heard enough!" Cried the judge.

The whole courtroom was held in tight suspense, including a now be-scarfed squirrel in Mrs. Peters-Smith's lap.

"I find the defendant not guilty of the charge of murder in the second degree, and absolve her of this trial."

Mr. Bims eyes welled with happy tears.

"However, I do find the defendant guilty of premeditated murder and purchasing laxatives without a license."

The gavel hit, and the sentence was passed. This was the case of the murder of Nathaniel Patrick Bartholomew Christopher Jedidiah Smith IV.

Inspired by true events.

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This story has been submitted as a part of an unofficial challenge by Belle.