The defendant is TV personality Edward Carne, on trial for murdering wife Jocelyn. The twelfth juror is Robert Quinn, 38, an ex-journalist who now runs ""a squat"" for four young London buskers. And the much-belabored secret coincidence in this earnest psycho-mystery is that Quinn is harboring Carne's crazed, alcoholic teenage daughter Frances at his commune-type building. Why doesn't Quinn disqualify himself and reveal Frances' whereabouts to the authorities? The reasons aren't convincing. Nonetheless, the trial goes forward--with plodding courtroom dramatics about means, opportunity, and motive. (Carne had at least one mistress; his wife may also have been unfaithful.) Meanwhile, Gill offers glimpses of the other eleven jurors and their psychological motivations. And finally Quinn must try to push the jury to a non-guilty verdict--because he has information from Frances (about her mother's lesbian affair) that the rest of the jury doesn't have. With, like Gill's previous efforts (Death Drop, Suspect) a heavy-handed psycho-sexual windup: slow, contrived going, more reminiscent of lesser John Wainwright than Twelve Angry Men.