“Your Honor.”
The prosecutor glanced down at his notes before slowly raising his head.
“The prosecution requests further clarification regarding Themis’s analysis.”
“Granted.”
“Themis.”
“If the timestamp was altered, is there any evidence that the video itself was edited?”
A brief electronic tone sounded.
No evidence detected.
“And is there any doubt that the individual in the footage is the defendant?”
No doubt detected.
“Is there any doubt that the defendant was near the scene of the crime?”
No doubt detected.
The prosecutor briefly turned toward the gallery.
“Your Honor, the defendant himself admits he was near the apartment that night.”
“The footage is authentic.”
“His location data matches.”
“The timestamp anomaly alone should not invalidate every other piece of evidence.”
The defense attorney quietly rose to his feet.
“Objection.”
“State your argument.”
“The prosecution is confusing the authenticity of the footage with its admissibility as evidence.”
The prosecutor frowned.
The defense attorney remained calm.
“The issue is not whether this video is genuine.”
“The issue is when it was recorded.”
“If we can no longer establish that it was filmed immediately after the fire…”
“…then the prosecution’s entire timeline collapses.”
“The defendant is clearly visible in the footage.”
“Yes.”
“But it could have been recorded an hour before the fire.”
“Or ten minutes before.”
“Or even the following day at the same time.”
Silence filled the courtroom.
“Without a reliable timestamp, this footage alone cannot prove when the crime occurred.”
I turned another page in the case file.
The prosecution’s case rested on the claim that the footage had been recorded two minutes after the fire began.
Every other piece of evidence had been built upon that timeline.
If its foundation collapsed…
I realized my pen had stopped moving.
The prosecutor continued.
“Then how does the defense explain why the defendant was at the scene?”
“We are under no obligation to explain.”
“The defendant fled.”
“He merely appears to be running.”
“He was running.”
“There are many reasons to run besides committing arson.”
“That’s a desperate argument.”
“And proving it to be desperate is the prosecution’s burden.”
Neither lawyer raised their voice.
Yet with every exchange…
the tension inside the courtroom tightened.
As they argued,
my eyes drifted toward the defendant.
Shingo Saeki remained staring at the floor.
He didn’t look like a man who had just been predicted to walk free.
There was no joy.
No relief.
Instead…
he looked like someone who already knew why he was here.
Something about him continued to trouble me.
“Themis.”
I turned toward the monitor.
Yes.
“Based on the evidence currently before the court…”
“…can you conclude that the defendant committed the crime?”
Several seconds passed.
No.
“Can you conclude that he did not commit the crime?”
Another electronic tone.
No.
I heard quiet gasps throughout the courtroom.
The prosecutor spoke first.
“Then that does not justify a prediction of acquittal.”
Explanation follows.
The screen changed.
A single sentence appeared.
A court is not an institution that determines the truth through speculation.
Silence returned once more.
Then another line appeared.
A court determines facts only through lawfully obtained and reliable evidence.
I found myself staring at the screen.
The words carried almost the exact meaning of something my law professor had written on the blackboard countless times.
Themis continued.
The submitted security camera footage is the primary evidence establishing the time of the offense.
Because substantial doubt exists regarding its reliability, it cannot serve as the foundation for a guilty verdict.
The prosecutor opened his mouth to respond.
Before he could…
I reached for the gavel.
“Today’s proceedings are adjourned.”
The sharp knock echoed through the courtroom.
No one stood.
The victim’s family continued staring at the defendant.
The defendant continued staring at the floor.
And I…
could not take my eyes off Themis.
It had never once claimed that the defendant was innocent.
It had only concluded…
that he could not be found guilty.
I looked at the defendant.
Then at the victim’s family seated behind him.
Finally…
I looked back at Themis.
There was no emotion reflected on its screen.
Not for anyone.