"Well, I had a lovely preamble planned," Harker said to the jury with a wry smile, "telling you all about circumstantial evidence, but Mr. Jacob has kindly spared me the need for that. Maybe I'm getting predictable in my old age." He chuckled softly and the jurors smiled along.

"Since I didn't get to explain that little bit of terminology to you, let me give you another one: 'inoculating the jury.' What that means is, you point out the flaws in your own case so that they don't seem so bad; in fact, you might even tell the jury that it's silly to focus on those flaws. So sure, Mr. Jacob admits that all that 'evidence' is circumstantial but then he says, never mind that! Because it absolutely adds up to a very obvious conclusion." Harker turned a scolding gaze on Jacob as he paraphrased the prosecutor. "But does it really? Because I am hard-pressed to make sense of the picture he's painted of my client with that evidence."

He held his right hand out as if gesturing to an invisible person. "He credits Ezra as being so clever that he spent months befriending a teller, Henry Erickson, so that he could gain access to the bank at just the right time; so clever that he arranged for Henry to let him into the bank that night—and yet," Harker held out his left hand to a second invisible person, "Ezra was stupid enough to have a very public argument with his 'inside man' on the very night of the robbery, an argument that was bound to be remembered. Wouldn't it have made more sense to lay low, to not even be seen with Henry Erickson that night? But never mind that.

"Mr. Jacob credits Ezra with being clever enough to do all this so that he could steal the Western Sky payroll and kill Henry Erickson in the process…and yet he expects you to believe that such a man isn't clever enough to get rid of a bloody coat and shirt, not clever enough to keep from leaving a very identifiable ring in the bank and, oh, by the way, apparently not clever enough to take the money and run."

Harker stood still for several moments, letting his last comment sink in. "That's right gentlemen. Let me remind you that nowhere in all of the testimony that you have heard has anyone mentioned the missing money. Surely a robber who was sloppy enough to commit all of the mistakes that Ezra is supposed to have made would have been caught with the money as well. But then," his voice rose in indignation, "surely a robber as clever as Mr. Jacob tells you Ezra is would have left town to begin with! But never mind that as well, right? That's what Mr. Jacob wants you to do—never mind all of these inconsistencies because he has things sitting over there on that table and they must add up to something." The lawyer threw up his hands, then shook his head in dismay and continued in a subdued tone.

"I know you'd like to have a simple, clear explanation for the evidence you've seen. You'd like for Ezra to have sat in that chair and told you that he really was in a fight, and then had three people sit there and back him up. You'd have liked for him to have said that he really did sell that ring to someone, and then have had that person come in here and say, 'Why yes, I bought that ring from Ezra Standish and then I lost it.' You'd have liked it if there were a few people who could say that they saw Ezra during the time of the robbery and therefore he couldn't have done it. And I have to tell you," he gave a rueful smile, "I'd really like all that too. Those are some confusing pieces of evidence and I would surely like to know the real story they're trying to tell. But you know who'd like to know that story even more than you or I? Ezra Standish.

"Now I've been a lawyer for a long time, longer than some of you have even been alive, and this is a first for me. I've never had a client who simply couldn't remember where he was the night of the crime. It sounds preposterous! But unfortunately, sometimes the truth is stranger than any dime novel tale…and sometimes we don't even get to know the whole truth. Sometimes, like today, we have to take a leap of faith and make a choice based on something other than neat and tidy facts. And that's what I'm asking you to do. Because when you get right down to it, you're not judging a ring or a coat or a pair of broken eyeglasses. You're judging a man; you're judging this man."

Harker gestured to Ezra, who looked back at his defense counsel and then over at the jury. Chris studied the gambler's face; where before he would have seen only the carefully constructed mask, he could now see the slight twitch at the corner of the mouth that betrayed his nervousness, the slight flicker in his gaze that hinted at his fear.

"Ezra Standish has lived among you for well over a year. He has put his life on the line many times to protect you from the worst elements. You might argue that he's paid a salary to do that job, but tell me: How many of you would be willing to do what he and his fellow lawmen do for a dollar a day? How many of you would give up working on your farm, or in your store, or restaurant or hotel, knowing every day that you might take a bullet for your trouble?"

Chris could hear and see men throughout the room—including on the jury—shifting in their seats. Many had refused to serve on juries or in posses in the past when needed; Chris was glad to see that Harker's words had struck a nerve with them.

"Now there's nothing wrong with relying on professionals to serve as your peacekeepers," Harker continued, "but you must admit that it's a job very few people are willing to do day in and day out. And so I ask you: do you really believe that someone who has stood up for you like that would betray the job, and all of you, so thoroughly? Mr. Jacob calls Ezra a thief and a killer, but is that what you've seen? Is it what you see now? I know I don't, and I don't think you do either. The evidence may seem to tell one story, but if you have a reasonable doubt as to whether it is the true story, you must find Ezra Standish not guilty."

Chris gave Harker a nod as he returned to his table. Both sides seemed to have impressed the jury, and Chris could see nothing in their faces to give a hint of which way they might be leaning. He was about to say as much to Vin when the tracker gave a subtle start and inhaled sharply. "A thief and a killer…" he whispered.

Something in Vin's tone caught Chris's attention. "What's the matter?"

Vin's eyes were wide as he scanned the crowd. "Where's Bannister?"

"Dunno; haven't seen him today. Why, what's up?"

"We gotta find him." Vin stood and made his way quickly out of the Grain Exchange, Chris close behind. Judge Travis gave them a curious glance as they left, but didn't pause in providing his instructions to the jury.

"Vin, wait!" Chris stopped him in the street outside. "Hold on; what's going on?"

Vin spun on his heel, clearly agitated. "What Harker said, 'a thief and a killer.'"

"Yeah, so?"

"The day we searched Ezra's room, Bannister was there. Right after we found the clothes, he went nuts, remember?"

Chris thought back to that awful morning and felt a stab in his gut as he remembered what Bannister had said. "He called Ezra a thief and a killer…"

"Those words exactly."

Chris's heart began to race with a surge of hope but he tamped down on it. "OK, but we guessed someone was probably dead from the amount of blood in the bank."

"Yeah, but we thought it was one of the robbers, and Bannister was outside when we talked about it. He wouldn't even look at the blood, remember? All he cared about was the money until—"

"—until he attacked Ezra," Chris cut in.

Vin nodded grimly. "No one knew Henry was missing yet, so why'd Bannister try to pin a murder on Ezra right then?"

"Unless he already knew it was Henry's blood. Damn! Where does he stay?"

"Pretty sure he's got a room at Virginia's," Vin replied. "But wait, what about the trial?"

"We don't know anything for sure yet; Judge Travis ain't gonna stop it with what we got. We'll just have to hope that the jury takes a while to make up their minds. Let's go."