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FOREMAN. Number Twelve?

TWELVE. Guilty.

FOUR. Six to six.

TEN (mad). I’ll tell you something. The crime is being committed right in this room.

FOREMAN. The vote is six to six.

THREE. I’m ready to walk into court right now and declare a hung jury. There’s no point in this going on any more.

SEVEN. I go for that, too. Let’s take it into the judge and let the kid take his chances with twelve other guys.

FIVE (to SEVEN). You mean you still don’t think there’s room for reasonable doubt?

SEVEN. No I don’t.

ELEVEN. I beg your pardon. Maybe you don’t understand the term “reasonable doubt.”

SEVEN (angry). What do you mean I don’t understand it? Who do you think you are to talk to me like that? (To all) How do you like this guy? He comes over here running for his life, and before he can even take a big breath he’s telling us how to run the show. The arrogance of him!

FIVE (to SEVEN). Wait a second. Nobody around here’s asking where you came from.

SEVEN. I was born right here.

FIVE. Or where your father came from … (He looks at SEVEN, who doesnt answer but looks away.) Maybe it wouldn’t hurt us to take a few tips from people who come running here! Maybe they learned something we don’t know. We’re not so perfect!

ELEVEN. Please—I am used to this. It’s all right. Thank you.

FIVE. It’s not all right!

SEVEN. Okay, okay, I apologize. Is that what you want?

FIVE. That’s what I want.

FOREMAN. All right. Let’s stop the arguing. Who’s got something constructive to say?

TWO (hesitantly). Well, something’s been bothering me a little … this whole business about the stab wound and how it was made, the downward angle of it. You know?

THREE. Don’t tell me we’re gonna start that. They went over it and over it in court.

TWO. I know they did—but I don’t go along with it. The boy is five feet eight inches tall. His father was six two. That’s a difference of six inches. It’s a very awkward thing to stab down into the chest of someone who’s half a foot taller than you are. (THREE jumps up, holding the knife.)

THREE. Look, you’re not going to be satisfied till you see it again. I’m going to give you a demonstration. Somebody get up.

(He looks around the table. EIGHT stands up and walks towards him. THREE closes the knife and puts it in his pocket. They stand face to face and look at each other for a moment.)

THREE. Okay. (To TWO) Now watch this. I don’t want to have to do it again. (He crouches down now until he is quite a bit shorter than EIGHT.) Is that six inches?

TWELVE. That’s more than six inches.

THREE. Okay, let it be more.

(He reaches into his pocket and takes out the knife. He flicks it open, changes position in his hand, and holds the knife aloft, ready to stab. He and EIGHT look steadily into each others eyes. Then he stabs downward, hard.)

TWO (shouting). Look out!

(He stops just as the blade reaches EIGHT’s chest. THREE laughs.)

SIX. That’s not funny.

FIVE. What’s the matter with you?

THREE. Just calm down. Nobody’s hurt, are they?

EIGHT (low). No. Nobody’s hurt.

THREE. All right. There’s your angle. Take a look at it. Down and in. That’s how I’d stab a taller man in the chest, and that’s how it was done. Take a look at it and tell me if I’m wrong.

(TWO doesnt answer. THREE looks at him for a moment, then jams the knife into the table and sits down. They all look at the knife.)