"I know we're not supposed to talk about it, but we've been sequestered for two weeks now. I'll probably lose my job under these new Industrial Relations laws, and I bet the wife isn't too happy with me either, so let's get things moving. Hands up, who thinks he's guilty?"

There was a furtive exchange of guarded looks around the hotel's largest dinner table, and Abby, Juror number 4 slowly raised a finger. "We could get into trouble for this," she whispered, with a worried look on her face. "I don't want anything to do with it until the judge tells us to start deliberating."

"He's right," murmured Juror number 5, known as Ben. "We've heard all the evidence now, and those blasted lawyers only have the summing up to do, but you know how lawyers love to talk. It could go on for days. We should start discussing it now."

"I'm with Abby," said Patrick, Juror 10. "If they found out, it could invalidate the trial, and we'd be discharged, and they'd have to start a new trial all over again. Then they'll probably sue the hell out of us all for wasting public money, contempt of court, running a red light, anything they can think of."

"If we keep our voices down, we'll be fine. They'll be so busy debating points of law for days it'll put the judge to sleep, and we won't understand a word of it anyway. So who's it going to hurt if we take a quick poll now, then we know where we stand? Come on, guilty?"

Eight hesitant hands rose to just above table top height, and Ralph, the juror who had started it all, raised his. "Not guilty?"

One hand rose almost imperceptibly. Unsurprisingly, it was Abby.

"So that leaves two undecided," said Ralph. "OK, well, that's a start. We'll talk some more tomorrow night, so give it some thought, and you two can tell us what you need to convince you to come off the fence. And Abby, you can tell us what makes you think he's innocent. OK?"

However, Ralph';s plotting was all for nothing, as the closing statements by both sides occupied just over a morning. In the afternoon, the judge gave his directions to the jury, and by 2.30pm, they were sent to the jury room to begin their deliberations.

Ralph, by virtue of his big mouth, had been elected foreman, and he started the proceedings by asking for a secret ballot to vote for guilty or not guilty.

Slips of paper were handed round, and people began scribbling on them. When the results were tallied, the provisional verdict came to ten "guilty" and two "not guilty" votes.

When Ralph asked for comment, Geraldine raised a hand and in a nervous voice replied, "The murder hasn't been proved. We've seen indisputable evidence that the theft took place, and the destruction of the victim's habitat can be seen for miles around, but we have no proof that the defendant killed him."

"He had to have, or he couldn't have got away with the goods," growled Ralph. "And that loud rumbling stopped just before he came running down with the loot in his hands, and it's never been heard since."

"And don't forget, they never found a body, and they could hardly have overlooked one that big," offered Julian.

Ralph snorted. "He destroyed the victim's home to destroy any evidence. I don't believe his story that the goose just dropped out of the sky unto his hands. Don't forget that his fingerprints were all over the axe that chopped the beanstalk down. And if he hadn't killed the giant, we'd have heard the fuss from here. How long is it since you heard a Fe fi fo fum?"

"I suppose he could be lying low, hoping that Jack would be convicted for his murder, then he'd nick down here one night and steal his goose back," said Abby, hesitantly.

"But how? With no beanstalk?"

And with those five words, the two holdouts capitulated, and a unanimous verdict of "Guilty" on all three counts of the indictment was delivered. Jack was convicted on all counts, and the court immediately confiscated the goose together with her golden eggs.

Rumour has it that the Howard Government took charge of them, and started a poultry farm, which explains why they were able to increase welfare benefits for such poverty stricken people as Jack's poor mother, while enabling a smooth ride for life on the gravy train for themselves.

Who said John Howard wasn't an opportunist?

© Sandy Parkinson, December, 2006. Word count 763