Filed, not read

The ruling is dated 1 October 2025. It wasn't read aloud to a packed room: in a civil case, it was filed and sent to the lawyers through the court's online platform. A paper copy printed for the archive went missing before it got there. Nine people and a ruling, one per row and one per column. Nothing is handed to you on a plate: you'll need more than one hypothesis to get to the end.

Suspects

• Amílcar, the court IT technician: He swears the platform never fails. He admits it sometimes does, but only at weekends.
• Brígida, the court clerk: She pressed the "notify" button at 16:02. She says it was the most important button of the year and it didn't make a sound.
• Celso, the courier: He hardly has anything to carry now: it's all on the platform. He carries the papers that still get printed, out of nostalgia.
• Dorinda, the archive clerk: She files the paper nobody reads. She says the archive is the only place in the courthouse that's never in a hurry.
• Ernesto, the waiting reporter: He waited all morning for a ruling to be read that was never going to be read. He found out from his phone, in the lobby.
• Florbela, the printer operator: She printed the whole ruling. The printer jammed on the page about verbal stoning.
• Guilherme, the court usher: He carries paper rulings from the office to the court office. This was the first one the papers read before he did.
• Helena, the café lady: She heard about the ruling from her customers. By five there were no custard tarts left.
• Ilídio, the staircase attendant: He polishes the handrails from morning to night. He says that day everyone ran up the stairs.