The Kouri Richins trial held public attention with its courtroom drama - forensic evidence methodically presented, hidden motives laid bare, and a murder case that turned on what investigators could prove about identity and self-interest.

Mark Twain built Pudd'nhead Wilson around strikingly similar architecture more than a century earlier: a killing rooted in concealed identity and financial gain, innocent men falsely accused, and a climactic trial scene in which one unconventional mind uses physical evidence to expose the truth.

The story opens in antebellum Missouri, where a young enslaved woman - terrified of what slavery will do to her light-skinned infant son - switches him at birth with the master's white child, rewriting both boys' futures. Decades pass.

The deception holds.

Then a brutal murder shocks the small river town, suspicion lands on two visiting foreigners, and the only person who can see through the tangle of false identities is David "Pudd'nhead" Wilson - an eccentric, long-dismissed lawyer whose obscure hobby of collecting fingerprints has quietly given him a forensic tool no one else understands.

Twain stages a tense courtroom sequence in which Wilson dismantles the town's assumptions piece by piece, using print evidence to reveal who was switched, who really committed the crime, and how deeply the community's notions of guilt, innocence, and racial identity rest on fictions.

Published in 1894, the novel is one of the earliest works of fiction to resolve a murder through fingerprint analysis - a detail that feels remarkably current amid today's forensic-driven true-crime fascination.

Beneath the mystery, Twain delivers a sharp, unsettling satire of a society that built its moral order on slavery, asking how much of anyone's fate is determined by the identity others assign them.