Yuki sneaked a glance at the Martin children. The little boy’s mouth was hanging open. The little girl was scowling. The judge had said “Ignore them” and Yuki tried to do that as she preemptively set fire to the defense’s position.

“Mr. Hoffman will tell you that his client didn’t do it,” Yuki told the jurors. “He will say that the defendant was in her home office when she heard shots in the foyer. He will say that she found her husband bleeding on the floor, that she checked his pulse, that she realized that her husband was dead. And then — what do you know? She heard an intruder leaving by the front door.

“Mr. Hoffman will tell you that Candace Martin called out and that the intruder was startled and dropped his gun. And he will tell you that his client picked up the gun and followed the intruder outside and fired at him.

“That’s the defense’s explanation for the gunshot residue on Candace Martin’s hands.

“There’s only one problem,” Yuki said to the fourteen men and women in the jury box. “This story is entirely bogus.

“There was no intruder.

“There was no forced entry into the house, and nothing was stolen.

“But Candace Martin had told several people that she wanted her husband dead, and the very evening of the fatal incident she was seen handling a gun.

“Our job in the DA’s office is to speak for the victim,” Yuki said, “and we will do that. But if Mr. Martin could speak for himself, he’d tell you who killed him,” said Yuki, pointing at the pretty, blond heart surgeon who was chewing on the ends of her hair.

“He’d tell you that his dear wife shot him dead.”