But before Davis could finish.
Juror Number Three, Cobb, shot to his feet, the movement so abrupt it knocked over his chair.
"Evidence!"
Cobb's thick, beefy hand slammed down on the tabletop.
He pulled a high-definition photo from the messy pile of documents and threw it onto the center of the long table, where it slid to a stop in front of Davis.
"You want to talk about evidence? Fine. Let's start with this."
Cobb pointed at the grayish-white object in the photo, his voice harsh, spittle flying.
"This is a gun. A homemade pistol. The so-called 'ghost gun' from the news."
Cobb glared around the room, trying to overwhelm anyone who was still hesitant with his booming voice.
"The prosecution made it very clear. Luigi Randall spent a full three months preparing for this murder. He downloaded the blueprints, bought a printer, bought the materials, and then, in his dorm room, like some kind of freak, he built this murder weapon piece by piece."
