Copyright 1994(c)

                           NOT GUILTY
                         By Patsy Sauls

     "What is your defense?" 
     Stanley Raines looked up from a stack of law books opened at
odd angles. The hum of the computer behind him indicated a search
for pertinent law was ongoing via Internet, throughout the legal
colleges of the world. Fred Lyte waited for an answer, hoping his
brilliant partner was going to do for Raines and Lyte what
television commercials hadn't done -- take them to prominence and
money. Big money.
     Stanley grinned his lopsided grin. "Multiple choice," he said.
     "Tell me," said Fred, taking the seat in front of the desk,
sweeping computer printouts to the floor as he did so.
     "Don't lose those," Stanley said. "One of them is in there."
     Fred retrieved the printouts, carefully replacing them atop
a stack to the right of Stanley's desk which tottered a moment
before settling.
     "One," Stanley ticked off on his fingers, "she was a battered
wife driven beyond endurance. Her husband was shot as a result of,
a", he used another finger, "an accident; b, self-defense; or c,
suicide."
     "So?" said Fred. "Which one is it?"
     "Who knows?" answered Stanley, grinning that grin again.
     "Which one are you using, I mean," said Fred.
     "I'm using everything but an alibi," said Stanley. "Everybody
admits she was there."
     "Explain to me how this is going to work," said Fred.
     "I don't think a dozen people have to be told what they think,
and don't think I won't pump them up by telling them so," said
Stanley, and winked. "I'm gonna parade experts up the doo-by-osh
past that jury. There'll be abuse experts; psychiatric and
psychological quacks with their theories of his suicidal
tendencies, her suicidal tendencies, their collective suicidal
tendencies; and scientists and statisticians to establish the gun's
potential to discharge accidentally. They'll have sufficient
information to find her innocent on any number of fronts."
     "Have you thought about this? It could backfire on you, you
know. If the prosecution gets to mouthing off about multiple-
choice-defense, they might convict on the basis that if she doesn't
know why or how she didn't do it, then she must have done it."
     "We don't deny she did it," Stanley said. "Just why. And how."
     "What do you think?" asked Fred.
     "About her guilt or about the defense strategy?" Stanley
asked.
     "Both," said Fred.
     "I think the defense is solid," Stanley answered, "and yes,
I've thought about it a lot. I think it could have been suicide.
I can show he was a heavy drinker, subject to acting out when he
was in his cups. It could also have been self-defense or an
accident.  He did abuse her, which I can also prove, just like I
can prove she didn't know one end of a gun from the other. I think
I can get her off. She does a hell of a re-enactment.
     "And I think she shot his ass dead," he concluded.
     "On purpose?" asked Fred.
     Stanley gave that half-smile again.
     "Dead's dead," he said. "Who cares, so long as I make law."
     Fred Lyte congratulated himself on having the good sense to
affiliate with such a practical, and brilliant colleague.   
                              -30-
