"Has the jury reached their verdicts?" asked the judge.

"We have, your honor," answered the foreman.

"Would you please state the jury's verdicts," said the judge.

"Guilty of capital murder, your honor," answered the foreman.

"No!" exclaimed a juror in the middle of the jury foreman's statement. "He's not guilty!"

"You do understand," said the judge to the foreman, "that the jury's verdict must be unanimous, do you not?"

"Yes, your honor," answered the foreman.

"If you cannot reach a unanimous verdict on any of the charges, I must declare a mistrial. This juror's objection to your declaration requires me to ask every juror individually if he or she concurs with the verdict in every charge now. Has the jury reached a verdict on any of the charges?"

"No, your honor," said the foreman, by now visibly sweating.

"The jury is hereby ordered back to continue your deliberations," said the judge.

After the bailiff escorted the jury out of the courtroom, the defense attorney stood and said, "May it please the court, I move that a mistrial be declared, and the jury foreman cited for civil or criminal contempt of court as the court sees fit."

The judge answered, "I shall take the motion under consideration. Please write up a formal motion, and present it tomorrow when we reconvene."

The jury did not reach a verdict that day, and at the end of the day, was escorted back to the hotel where the jurors were sequestered.

Court reconvened the following day, and the defense attorney read an expanded version of motion in open court, with the jury absent.

"The court grants the defense motion for a mistrial," pronounced the judge upon the defense attorney's completion of his reading. "The court denies the motion to hold the jury foreman in contempt, as we have not been presented with positive evidence of bad faith or dishonesty. The foreman could have misremembered the instructions requiring jury unanimity. Bailiff, please return the jury to the courtroom."

The jury returned to the courtroom and took their places in the jury box.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I have declared a mistrial. We thank you for service to the State and its People in a very emotional, intense, and highly public case. We have one remaining order for you, before we dismiss you. You are to refrain from discussing this case publicly until a new jury is selected and sequestered for the retrial, or until it is decided against retrying the defendant. You are hereby dismissed, and free to depart. I wish you all a good day."

The jury members all arose and left the jury box and the courtroom in a line.

"Prosecutor Helms," said the Judge after the jurors departed.

"Yes, your honor?" answered the lead prosecuting attorney.

"I will continue the case for two weeks, during which time you are to decide whether to retry the case or drop all charges against the defendant. If you don't inform me of your decision by then, all charges shall be dismissed with prejudice. Court is hereby adjourned."

"All arise!" announced the Bailiff. The judge stepped down from his desk, and left the courtroom. Court was adjourned.

The following week showed Prosecutor Helms, in a televised news conference, disclosing his decision, "with genuine regret to drop all of the charges -- capital murder, aggravated sexual assault, aggravated assault, and aggravated kidnapping -- against Defendant Chester Caveman, the boyfriend of victim Debby Taylor. I fear that I would be unable to prove beyond a reasonable doubt his guilt in the crime."

The television then showed Chester Caveman emerging from a jail transport, and being met and surrounded by his family, everyone displaying tears of relief and happiness. He got into their car, and they drove off.

The television news shifted to the parents and siblings of the victim, university student Debby Taylor. Television commentary was practically unanimous.

"My sister's memory has been besmirched. How could they possibly let him get away with murdering my sister!" said Debby's older sister.

"It shouldn't be so difficult to punish a rapist and murderer," said a radio talk-show host. "This focus on the rights of the criminal has made the country the mess it is today."

"How could that defense attorney live with himself, defending an accused rapist and murderer. It must be truly pleasant to live without a conscience. Can't they get that attorney for aiding and abetting, or something?"

A state legislature candidate promised, "I will do the best of my ability to change the focus from criminal rights to victim's rights in our courts. This has gone too far!"

Chester Caveman, the former boyfriend and the defendant in her murder case, rode home with his family in silence. It had taken his defense attorney considerable hard work to get one man on the jury to vote for his acquittal and not give in to the others' pressure. Only one man stood between him and either death or life in prison.

With everything that had occurred, in the back rooms of the police station, the time in jail -- he'd been denied bail -- the pretrial work, and finally the trial, he'd almost forgotten the horror of his girlfriend's rape and murder.

In jail, he'd been beaten up often by four or five inmates at once. He'd fought back hard, and gave as good as he could, but one against five was hopeless. Of course, the guards were not nearby or in hearing range.

The time he'd filed a complaint with the warden, he learned his lesson well: one did not tattle-tale. He was stabbed in the back afterwards in addition to being beaten up, and was sent to the medical ward. They treated his injuries, but accused him of injuring himself so that he didn't have stay in the ordinary jail. He was never able to get them to flat-out accuse him of stabbing himself in the back, but that didn't stop them from accusing him of causing his own injuries.

He did blame himself for her death. If he hadn't swatted her so hard, she wouldn't have promptly run out of his dorm room, only to be raped and murdered, with her body disposed in the dorm's trash bin.

A man had to discipline and correct his wife or girlfriend, of course. Everyone with any kind of respect for tradition knew that. Everyone except liberals and communists.

He wasn't so sure of that himself, now. Some persons might call what he received in jail correction. Of course, it was pure punishment, pure vengeance, pure vindictiveness, pure viciousness. His correction of his girlfriend as well as previous girlfriends who'd eventually broken up with him, were nothing compared with what he received in jail.

Then there was the police interrogation. He kept trying to deny killing the girl. At one denial, an officer said, "So you don't deny raping the girl."

"Yes I--" he'd begun to say, but was promptly interrupted. He was going to say, "Yes I deny it."

"And once you raped her, you killed her and disposed of her, to avoid being caught."

Another time, he stammered, "I think I want my attorney."

An officer replied, "So let's explore that idea." There was the notion that an innocent person had no need for an attorney. He had nothing to fear.

"Imagine that you did rape and murder your girlfriend," said an officer.

There was so much, he couldn't remember all of it at any one time. At times, he was dying to sleep, while they kept at him.

His family had taken him to a hospital to examine him for signs of he injuries he'd received in jail. They found the stab wound, and some signs of being beaten up. But of course, sleep deprivation would leave no marks on his body, and many of the punches he'd received left no marks either.

His defense attorney referred him to two other attorneys, a specialist in lawsuits against the police and the city, and a defamation specialist. The defense attorney expressed concern about having to be a witness in some of the cases.

He spent the next week or so at home, relaxing, catching up on sleep, and at the advice of his attorney, writing down everything he remembered about his treatment in jail.

Finally, he started going outside again. He took walks, he went to the mall, went to movies, and did other things. He wasn't ready to return to college just yet, and really doubted that he would return to the local university.

One day while out walking, he sensed someone approaching from behind. He felt dizzy and faint, and felt himself falling to the ground.

The next thing he knew, his body felt bizarre. Worse yet, he couldn't control it. His own reflection slapped him in one cheek, then slapped him in the other cheek. He felt the pain surprisingly strongly, and felt and heard himself scream like a girl, then say, "That's it, goddammit! We're through!"

He was in his girlfriend's body! He could feel and hear everything she felt and heard, but shortly discovered he couldn't control the body. She stormed out of his room, and stomped down the hall to the stairways at the end. He could detect a few of her thoughts; she was going straight back to her own sorority, and wouldn't have anything to do with that asshole again. Why she ever became his girlfriend, she couldn't figure.

She was dashing down the stairs, two at a time, when she was suddenly grabbed and tripped.

"Ooo, look-a what we have here! Here's a real hot one!"

He didn't recognize the speakers, but Debby did, and he detected her thoughts. They was two players on the college varsity football team -- two of the best players.

"Charles, Troy!"

"Now don't worry about a thing, little girl," said Troy as he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her down. "We're just gonna have a little fun with you. That's all."

Continued in http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/58155/vengeance-and-be..., describing the crime from Debby and Chester's view. The reader's discretion is advised, as the crime is brutal and explicit. The reader may skip to Part III, without seriously missing part of the story.