Blake for the people, good morning.

Good morning, on the big couch.

Good morning, I live.

Jeff Ghan.

Good morning.

Some things in life are given.

And one of them is at a prison jumpsuit in a courtroom as a way of standing out, defining its wearer.

Maybe that's why Raymond Jennings seemed less than cordial as he took his usual seat at the end of

the defense table on the morning of March 16, 2009.

He was encased in shapeless reddish orange instead of the crisp business shirt and tie

he'd been allowed to wear during his two jury trials.

The fluorescence made him look agitated, perhaps.

Michelle O'Kee's family had already taken their seats just behind him.

Lawyers and court officials sat to either side.

The decision they had all come to hear was going to be crucial. Two juries

had deadlocked, and now it was up to the judge should Jennings go on trial yet again,

a third time for the murder of Michelle O'Keefe, or should the judge declare an end to it all and send him home? All rise, said the bailiff,

and Judge Michael Johnson entered the room, climbed the bench, and sat down. The air crackled

nervously. Let me address the principal issue for today, whether I'll exercise my discretion to dismiss the case.

All it took was 12 words.

So I will simply state my ruling. I will not dismiss the case.

Jenny shook his head as if in disbelief he seemed barely in control of himself.

...