The case was clearly open and shut. Or should have been. However, an incompetent district attorney, a hate-filled jury blinded by race and a weird little judge obsessed with camera angles and product placements saw to it that the televised trial devolved into a kangaroo court.

After carefully weighing months of irrefutable proof during their two minutes of deliberation, the jury set B. O. Anson free, with the added bonus of setting race relations back to the Jim Crow era.

Since that time B.O. had remained at the fringes of the national spotlight. If he wasn't in court for one reason or another, he was appearing on golf courses around the country.

When the 6:00 a.m. local news had announced that Anson would be playing at the Westchester club that morning, Remo Williams had been watching TV on the other side of town. The news had continued to play quietly to an empty room as Remo slipped from the building.

An excited ripple charged across the Westchester Golf Club at the appearance of the infamous celebrity. People whispered and pointed. For his part, B.O. reveled in the attention. Eschewing a golf cart, he ambled up the hill near the main clubhouse, a big smile spread across his face.

His partners followed.

As he approached the first tee, Remo didn't see any evidence of the crippling arthritis that Anson's attorneys had insisted would have prevented him from lacing up the blood-soaked shoes that had been discovered in the back of the bedroom closet in the star's Los Angeles mansion.

The group was nearly upon Remo before B.O. even noticed someone standing there. In fact, the exfootball player nearly stumbled over him. It was as if Remo had appeared from out of nowhere to stand in the celebrity's path.

"Hey, look out," B.O. ordered with a scowl. Remo ignored him. His eyes focused on the ground, he tapped his ball with his wedge. The Titleist seemed suddenly charged with electricity. With a whir it rose from the ground and spun straight up the shaft of Remo's club. It seemed as if he caught it in his hand, but when he opened his palm there was nothing there. Only then did Anson see the ball was back on the grass where it had started.