In the end, the verdict came late on a Friday afternoon when Toronto’s courthouse was quiet, and the only other observers in the gallery were a few curious staff.
But two weeks previously, it was a bright and bustling fall morning when Tamar Cupid, 27, was formally placed in the hands of his jury.
Cupid stood up beside his lawyers. The robed registrar spoke. “Members of the jury, look upon the accused, and hearken to his charges.” The registrar read them aloud. Manslaughter, aggravated assault, robbery. And then, with a rhetorical flourish scripted long ago, the registrar spoke the crucial words to the 12 seated jurors: “For his trial he hath put himself upon his country, which country you are.”
With its stirring language, this ceremony that unfolds daily in courtrooms across Canada emp

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