Ghost Trial

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"All rise! The 101st court is now in session. The honorable Judge Ginger Cason now presiding," the bailiff called out. He watched as Ginger walked up to her seat and sat down. "You all may be seated," he called out. He resumed his place at the desk assigned to him during trial.
The defense attorney shuffled some papers on his desk, nervously stacking and straightening them. He had never had to summon this type of witness before. Fresh out of law school, they only read about these kinds of cases. It was just his luck, he couldn't decide if it was good or bad, that his first case was one of those cases! Oh, this could be bad, but, his defendant was insistant. Either he summon this witness, or she was taking the stand. He felt if she took the stand, it would be disasterous. The prosecuting lawyer would make mince meat of her. He didn't care if she was guilty or innocent, and didn't care, but the prosecutor believed in her guilt, and was going to pull out all the stops to prove it. Prosecutors loved it when these witnesses were called, because these witnesses could not lie, ever. Even if it condemned the defendant, once this witness was called, the testimony was true, and the trial was usually over quickly after that.
"Your witness, Mr. Clarke," Judge Cason said to the defense.
"Uh, Your Honor," Mr. Clarke stammered out, "we would like to call Mr. George Williamson to the stand," he managed to get out before his knees gave way and he sat back down.
Ginger had known in advance, of course. One had to be notified 24 hours in advance for this kind of witness. The special box, and it was a box, the size of a refrigerator, had been wheeled into the courtroom earlier that morning. Ginger flicked a button on her desk, and a light glowed suddenly from the interior of the Spectral Chamber, showing a pale form of a man. He was seated, and as the lights came on inside the box, he appeared to be staring at the defendant.
"Mr. Williamson," Judge Cason addressed the entity inside the box. Mr. Williamson broke eye contact with the defendant and turned to stare at the judge, "do you know why you are here, sir? And, we thank you for your presence today. We are aware of the amount of effort one of these visits is on one such as yourself."
Mr. Williamson nodded, still staring at Judge Cason.
"Can you tell us, in your own words, what happened the night of your murder, sir?" Judge Cason asked respectfully.
"I was assaulted from behind, I never saw my attacker's face, not in life, nor as my life left my body and I stared up at the person leaning over me."
"Then, how can you maintain, with certainty, that your daughter was not the one who killed you?" the prosecutor asked.
"Because the last thing I remember seeing before I died was my daughter running towards me with her hand outstretched, screaming at the attacker to let me go. Since she was running toward me, she could not have been the one behind me," the ghost answered, with a tearful smile towards his daughter.
The prosecutor turned towards the daughter, "why did you not tell the police you saw the murderer? We could have avoided this entire trial."
"I told the officers, but since the attacker was wearing a hooded cloak, a mask, and wearing gloves, I could give no good description, and no evidence was found that there had been someone else there. Since I was the one found with the knife and standing over the body, they assumed I was lying and arrested me."
"Well, it wasn't her," the ghost affirmed.
"Mr. Prosecutor, I suggest you go back and examine the evidence again, and not come back to trial until you have solid proof that the next defendant is actually guilty of the murder of Mr. Williamson," Judge Cason instructed, "Case against Angela Williamson dismissed due to the validity of Spectral Testimony. You are free to go, young lady. And this court would like to extend our condolences to you, and our apologies for any inconveniences you have encountered."
Angela beamed, and shook Mr. Clarke's hand. She turned to the Spectral Chamber, and blew her father's ghost a kiss. He smiled sadly, and slowly faded from view.