Rumpole of the Bailey (1978) s03e06 Episode Script

(Seaside organ plays "I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside") (Mother) Dennis! (Father) Hey! (Mother) Our mobile home! - Open up! - Sorry, we're closed! - Frank Wilfred Armstrong? - Yes.
Are you the proprietor of Free As Air Holidays, also known as Sand Sun Mobile Homes? Chairman of the Board and Managing Director.
- You selling castles in Spain? - We have reason to believe a good number of your sunshine mobile homes are non-existent, or else they seem to have vanished mysteriously.
Could I just phone my solicitor? Plenty of time for that down at the station.
Excuse me, could I? Thank you! - Thank you! - How would you like the money, sir? Preferably in enormous quantities.
(Laughs) 'Stupid thing to say.
Now she'll take my cheque off to the back 'and discover the extent of the Rumpole debt.
'Why is she reading that thing so attentively? 'The art of cheque cashing is to appear totally unconcerned.
' Ah! How would I like it? Oh, er, just as it comes, thank you, nothing special, no doubloons or pieces of eight.
Just pour me a moderate measure of the good old pound sterling.
Thank you! 'Now, the great thing is not to run.
'Walk casually.
'He even whistled in a carefree manner.
' Good morning, Mr Rumpole! 'Medway the manager.
Should have made a dash for it.
' - Good morning to you, Medway! - Paying in or drawing out? Oh! Drawing out, I see.
Could you step into my office, sir? Not now, got to get back to court.
Money brief, of course.
Just a moment of your time, Mr Rumpole.
Gone over the limit of our overdraft, haven't we? My overdraft! Huh! A flea bite compared to what you're lending the Poles.
I don't think the Poles are making out quite so many cheques in favour of Jack Pommeroy of Pommeroys Wine Bar.
Those are for the bare necessities of life.
Now, look here, Medway, old fellow, a man's got to live! No "got to" about it.
Bound to come a time when that may not be necessary, not at the expense of the Fleet St branch of United Metropolitan.
- "The bank with a friendly ear"? - There comes a time, Mr Rumpole, - when United Metropolitan goes deaf.
- Now, look here, Medway, my overdraft is peanuts.
It's laughable compared to my outstanding fees! Oh, they'll come in, of course, they'll come in.
Do you know how long solicitors keep us waiting for money? One firm that hasn't paid me for a private indecency I did for them back in 1972, no names, of course, but - Is that Mr Perivale Blythe? - Well - Of Blythe, Winterbottom and Paisley? - Yes, I believe that's him.
Slow payer.
- The money's there, of course it's there.
- Is it, Mr Rumpole? Yes yes, I see.
Thank you.
Talk to your solicitor, did you, sir? Er, no.
No, he he just slipped out of the office for a moment.
Hello there, Rumpole, how are you? "Tired with all these, for restful death I cry" What's all this talk of death? You know young Archie, don't you? Mr Justice Featherstone's nephew! God, not another Featherstone! Will the line stretch out to the crack of doom? He'd like your advice about starting out at the Bar.
- My advice is don't.
- Don't? He'd love to get a seat in our Chambers.
I've told him there's not the accommodation available, not quite yet.
- Not quite yet? - You can't stay in your room for ever.
The time's got to come when you take things more easily.
The case of the vanishing umbrella stand! Henry, my umbrella stand's disappeared! It's most disturbing.
Institute a thorough search at once.
Oh, listen, there's something else No, hang on, I'm coming in.
Forget the brolly stand.
How much does Perivale Blythe owe me in fees? £2,765.
93p, Mr Rumpole.
Wealth undreamt of by my bank.
Stretching back a fair way in time? Stretching back, Mr Rumpole, to the indecency at Swansea in April 1973.
- You have been on to him? - Almost daily.
What does the blighter have to say? The last time his secretary told us the cheque was in the post.
Ha ha ha! That old chestnut! Not true! Unless it evaporated mysteriously between here and Cheapside.
Get after this Blythe like a terrier! Get your teeth into him and don't let go until he disgorges the loot.
Is that a brief for me you're fingering? Mr Myers brought it in.
A case at the Bailey.
God bless old Myersy.
A man who pays up from time to time.
What is it? Murder? Robbery? Sudden death? Sorry, Mr Rumpole, it would seem to be about Sand Sun Mobile Homes.
Mr Perivale Blythe has slipped out of the office.
(Second phone ringing) I can only ask you to call again later, please.
Yes, I'll tell him you rang.
Mr Rumpole's clerk.
My brother Fred and I was born into the modern world, and what is the name of the game in the world today? - "Space Invaders"! - No, the name of the game is leisure interests and computer technology.
- Now, you won't believe this - Well, try me.
Our dad kept a fruit barrow in the Shepherd's Bush market.
- Not incredible.
- Yes, indeed! He earned a few bob and when he died, Fred and I, we divided the capital, and Fred went into hardware.
Ironmongery? No, Fred joined the microchip revolution, and, er, looking round your office today, I doubt very much it's fully automated.
You have great delays in sending out bills? Huh! I sometimes think my bills are sent out by carrier pigeon with a broken wing and no sense of direction.
Trust the computer, you'll have more time leisure-wise, - That is the name of the game! Yes indeed! That's why I saw my future definitely in the leisure industry.
Sounds like a contradiction in terms, doesn't it? Who wants hotel expenses these days? Who needs porters, tips, waiter service, all that hassle.
The future, as I see it, lies in self-catering mobile homes set in A3 and B1 popularity mass-appeal holiday areas.
That is the vision, and it's got me where I am today.
Out on bail, facing charges of fraud and fraudulent conversion? - Mr Rumpole, I want you to believe this.
- Well, try me again.
I just don't understand what's going on, and I say that you very, very frankly.
I was trying to run a go-ahead service industry geared to the needs of the '80s.
Now, what went wrong exactly? I daresay a close examination of the accounts will tell us.
That's why I asked you to give Miss Allways a brief.
She has a remarkable head for figures.
And quite a figure for heads, I imagine! (Sniggers) Pardon me, Miss Allways.
I think I was out of place there, am I right? Send the accounts as soon as possible.
There is spade work to be done.
This is, er, where we're in difficulty.
- Surely not? - The accounts were given to Mr Armstrong's previous solicitor, who acted for his father back in the fruit barrow days, and acted - until after the arrest.
- It's perfectly simple.
Get in touch with the former solicitors.
It's not as simple as that.
We've tried writing and never get a reply to our letters, and when we telephone, well, the gentleman dealing with the matter always seems to have just slipped out.
- Really? What's the name of the firm? - (Rumpole) Don't tell me.
- Blythe, Winterbottom and Paisley? - Yes, this is it! Erskine-Brown Oh.
- J'accuse! - What? Umbrella-stand pincher! My dear Horace, that's a most serious allegation! Stealing is a very serious crime.
Now, look here, you don't need one in your room.
- Oh, really? - You see only criminals, men who hardly ever carry umbrellas.
I had a conference yesterday with three solicitors, all with umbrellas.
That umbrella stand is a family heirloom.
I inherited that from She Who Must Be Obeyed's daddy, the only useful thing I got out of him and I prize it highly! All right.
All right, all right, if that's the attitude, good night! And keep your fingers off my family furniture! Henry, what's your poison? A Cinzano Bianco, please, Mr Rumpole, with lemonade.
- Oh dear! Di? - The same please, Mr Rumpole.
- We used to have it in Lanzarote.
- Was it really? We won't go too deeply into that.
Couple of Cinzano Biancos with lemonade, please, Jack, and a large cooking claret, and I'm sure you'd be happy to cash a small cheque.
- Not exactly happy, Mr Rumpole.
- Oh, come on, Jack! You've nothing to worry about.
You haven't lent money to the Poles? This is a better bank than United Metropolitan.
Take one for yourself.
Thanks! Now, Henry, this abominable Blythe, he hasn't surfaced, has he, - by any stretch of the imagination? - No, not as yet, sir, but As yet! Lying in his hammock, I suppose, on some South Sea Island fondling some almond-eyed beauty and turning our brief fees and refreshers into iced champagne.
I've made enquiries around the Temple.
Mr Brushwood in Queen Elizabeth's Buildings had the same problem.
Blythe owed well into four figures and they couldn't ever find him.
- Old Tommy Brushwood's - No longer with us, I know that.
As soon as he heard he'd gone, Blythe called on Mr Brushwood's widow and got her some sort of release for a percentage of the sum outstanding.
She signed as executor, not quite knowing the form, apparently.
But how did this blot on the landscape Blythe manage to talk her into that? Told her it would be less distressing to get the estate cleared up quickly.
Scared her with a long expensive dispute if she wanted the full amount.
- Cheers, Mr Rumpole.
- Yes, cheers ever so! And he's done it before, I'm told.
Why hasn't this Blythe been reported to the Law Society? Why hasn't he been clapped in irons Oh, Jack, bless you, very civil of you.
Thank you very much.
And transported to the colonies? All the clerks have thought of reporting him, of course, but if we did that we'd never get our money now, would we? Despite that appalling drink that you affect, you have your head screwed on.
However, I have another solution.
Honestly? I'd be glad to hear it.
We need Blythe as a witness in the Sand Sun Holiday case.
- R v Armstrong? - This is it.
We'll get Newton the private dick to find Blythe and slap a subpoena on him.
If old Fig Newton can't find the little horror, who can? (Scottish accent) There is a 10:45 to Penzance Yes, in a day or two.
Yes, thank you.
- Yes, can I help you? - Er, if you'd be so good, yes.
- Um, is Mr Perivale Blythe in? - Have you an appointment? Um Ah! Newton.
Ferdinand lan Gilmoure Newton of Newton Investigations, known in the profession as Fig Newton.
Er, Mr Blythe is expecting me.
- I see nothing in his diary.
- Must have slipped his memory.
Busy man.
I'm sure Mr Blythe can't remember everything.
He remembers if he's made an appointment.
Excuse me.
- Mr Blythe has slipped out.
- Yes, of course.
Well, I I'll just wait until he, um, slips back, shall I? What are these? - Bills.
Can't you recognise them? - Oh, yes, distressingly familiar.
Gas, electricity, rates, water rates.
We must cut down on these frivolities.
(Hilda) They've all gone red.
That's only last quarter's telephone bill.
We should lay that down for maturing.
You don't have to rush into paying these.
Perivale Blythe hasn't paid me for ten years! Well, you'd better tell Mr Perivale Blythe that the London Electricity Board isn't as patient as you are.
Hilda, you know perfectly well we can't sue anybody for our fees.
- I don't see why not? - It wouldn't be gentlemanly.
It's against the traditions of the Bar.
I suppose the gentlemanly thing is to sit here in the dark, with the gas cut off, no telephone and nasty looks from the butcher.
Well, you can sit here and be gentlemanly on your own! And take your feet off the sofa! You'll have to go now.
I'm locking up.
So I see.
I'm going away, Rumpole.
- Promises, promises.
- What did you say? I said, when from, missus? Dodo's been asked to stay with a friend in the Lake District, Pansy Rawlins, who was at school with us, if you remember.
No, I wasn't there at the time.
- Pansy has recently lost her husband.
- How careless of her.
It'll be a bachelor party.
Of course, when Dodo first mentioned it to me, I told her I couldn't possibly leave you.
I'm prepared to make the supreme sacrifice and let you go, my dear.
- Don't worry about me.
- I don't suppose I should unduly.
But you ought to worry about yourself.
You take my advice and find this Colindale Blythe.
- Perivale.
- Wherever he lives, find him and get him to pay you.
Make that your task while I'm away.
Keep your feet off the sofa.
(Laughter) Hello, could I have a bottle of Guinness, please? Newton drew a blank.
No sign of Blythe at the flat in Dolphin Square - or his office.
- Lord! You can follow the secretary.
She goes dancing with her boyfriend.
- Report with some snapshots.
- All right, thanks.
- Blythe's essential.
- Of course.
We need more time for Newton to make enquiries.
- Can't we ask for an adjournment? - We can ask.
Surely, Mr Rumpole, any reasonable judge would grant it? Mr Rumpole, for the fifth time of asking, I am not going to adjourn this case! So far as I see, the defence has had all the time in the world.
Your Lordship knows how difficult it can be to trace a solicitor, if Your Lordship remembers his own days at the Bar.
Neither your so-called eloquence, nor your alleged jokes will change my mind.
May I remind Your Lordship that, for many years past, my client's business life has been in the hands of the elusive Mr Perivale Blythe.
Your client's business life, such as it was, was in his own hands and it's time he faced up to his responsibilities.
This case will proceed without further delay.
That is my final decision! If Your Lordship pleases! You did your best, sir.
Good old Myersy.
He always says that when I fail dismally.
(Laughter heard from within court) I'd like to ask you now about your Cornish site for Free as Air Holidays.
Your Lordship has the photos in exhibit three.
Thank you, Mr Ward-Webster.
Hardly looks like the Garden of Eden, does it, members of the Jury? (Laughter) It appears to be next door to an industrial tip.
(Laughter) In the other direction, there's a view of the sea.
What? Oh! Yes, between the crane and the second lorry.
(Laughter) A great deal of our patrons' time is spent on the beach.
Perhaps they want a quiet night? (Laughter) Yes.
Carry on, Mr Ward-Webster.
Mr Armstrong, do you agree that on no less than 50 occasions holidays on the site in Cornwall turned out to have been booked in non-existent mobile homes? Yes indeed, er And your firm was paid large deposits for such holidays.
Well, this is it.
And on one occasion a mobile home was removed from an unhappy mother just as she was about to enter it.
Er It was one of those things.
Instead of the mother running away from home, the home ran away from the mother.
(Laughter) Oh, well done, Bull! Quite the stand-up comic! Letters of protest from the losers and their legal advisors went unanswered.
If there were any complaints, they should have been fed through the computer.
Perhaps those people would rather their money back than their complaints consumed by computer? Quite frankly, Mr Ward-Webster, the office at Free as Air Holidays Ltd has the latest technology.
Pity it isn't also equipped with a little old-fashioned plain dealing.
My Lord, I object! That is for the Jury to decide.
Very well.
Members of the Jury, you will have heard Mr Rumpole's objection.
(Judge laughs) - Now, shall we get on with the trial? - Mr Armstrong, are you telling us this is due to inefficiencies of your office? My office is not in the least inefficient.
My brother's business is in computers.
What is the relevance of that? Here's Fig's report.
Some photographs, he said.
Look at that! Myersy! A remarkable resemblance to our client, isn't it? Ring Newton.
See if he can get here by the lunchtime adjournment.
- He's never seen our client, has he? - No, he hasn't.
I asked the computer to do it.
We use modern methods.
It's very like him, but not the same gentleman.
- What's your brother up to these days? - He's in the Gulf, in Dubai, I believe.
He's developing a computer centre there.
- Do you have a photograph of him? - Yes, indeed I have.
It was taken the summer before last in Marbella.
How about that? That is the gentleman, no doubt about it.
Fred's been dancing.
- How long has he been out in Dubai? - Six months, yeah, all of six months.
Since before you were arrested? I only ask because Mr Newton saw him in London two nights ago.
I don't know what you're getting at, but I'm sure Fred would help if at all possible.
- Have you quarrelled about anything? - We had a little falling out perhaps, when he wanted to buy my land in Cornwall.
I wasn't selling.
- Didn't he offer you enough money? - An enormous amount.
- Stupid sort of price, I called it.
- (Rumpole) Well I suppose it was unbrotherly of me, but I wanted to build up my empire.
Perhaps Fred wanted to build up his.
- You've got to find brother Fred.
- In Dubai? I want a watch kept on the Free as Air offices, not during business hours, only late at night and early mornings.
You've got to lay hands on Blythe too.
You may have to go to Cornwall.
- You want all this done before 2:00? - No, no, Myersy! We'll get the Bull to give us an adjournment, or die in the attempt.
Come on, Fiona! So, what is the basis of this application, which you're now making for the eighth time? - What is it? - Ninth.
Thank you, Mason.
For the ninth time, Mr Rumpole! The basis should be clear even to Your Lordship.
It is vital that justice be done to the gentleman I have the honour to represent! This case has been committed for six months.
If Mr Blythe could have helped you, he'd have come forward.
That is an entirely unwarrantable assumption! There may be all sorts of reasons for his absence.
Seems to me you know very little about this Mr Blythe.
May I ask, have you had proof of his evidence? - No.
- No! - No, I don't.
- So, you have no idea of what this Mr Blythe will say? No, but I know what I'll ask him, My Lord, and if he answers truthfully, I have no doubt that my client will be acquitted! A pious hope! Well, of course, if Your Lordship wishes to exclude this vital evidence and has no interest in doing justice in this case, I have little more to say! Well, I have! A lot more to say, as you should know perfectly well.
Getting through the work of the Old Bailey is a matter of public importance.
Oh, yes, much more important than justice? In my view, these constant applications by the defence are merely an attempt to put off the evil hour when the Jury has to bring in a verdict.
It is my job to see that justice is done speedily.
Mr Rumpole, I believe you have a taste for poetry? You will no doubt remember the quotation about the "law's delays"? Yes, My Lord.
It comes in the same passage which deals with "the insolence of office".
If I might say, My Lord Mr Rumpole, your application for an adjournment is refused.
There is nothing you could say that would persuade me to grant it.
- Nothing, My Lord? - No, Mr Rumpole, absolutely nothing! I will adjourn this case.
Send for Matron.
- Fiona - Yes, Rumpole? - I can't breathe! Take me outside! - Steady on! No, it's all right, I just want a breath, I want to smell dear old Ludgate Circus, that's all.
Go and look after the client.
Is your little runabout outside? - I really don't - Take me out.
I want a breath.
You don't want me to spend my last moment outside Bullingham's court? - They reckon it's a stroke.
- They may mention bail later.
How is he? How is Mr Rumpole? Well, he can't go on for ever, can he? Not like he's been doing.
- May be the best way out for him.
- My mother had a blessed release.
She'd just called "Bingo!" When Matron got downstairs, the old chap had gone already! Rumpole? He can't do this to me! I got my warehouse break-in starting Thursday.
He wasn't old.
How old was he? Not old, really.
Probably the life he led.
During his last few years, somebody was saying the other day, he'd been surviving almost entirely on claret Pommeroys' claret.
(Mason tuts) I say, Mason, you don't think he was drunk, do you? Oh, no, no, Judge.
From what I hear it was pretty serious.
It crossed my mind he might have been drunk.
It was probably delirium.
Did you hear what he said to me during the course of the argument? - Not all of it, Judge.
- A fellow must be very far gone to talk about the "insolence of office" down at the Old Bailey.
Well, looks like an early afternoon.
- You won't be going on with the trial? - No, it wouldn't be right.
One has to show a certain respect, I suppose even for Rumpole.
I'll try and find where they've put him.
Do you wish to send flowers? Oh, come on, Mason, there are limits.
Flowers will not be necessary.
- I shouldn't have brought you home.
- Oh, I couldn't stand hospital.
I couldn't bear all that snoring and bed pans and piped wireless There we are.
Not to mention a complete lack of medicinal claret.
Ha ha! Your wife's not here? No, must've slipped out.
She'll be back directly.
- I I think I'll just pop into bed.
- I'll give you a hand.
Er, no, no.
Perhaps er, perhaps you'd better not.
She Who Must Be Obeyed is sure to stalk in.
She she Ha! She gets some very strange ideas, does She.
Ah! You'll really be all right? Do you think about the hereafter? Rumpole! Oh the hereafter will be all right.
Oh, Lord, until Ballard gets there! He's sure to make it.
Go along now.
No, really, go on.
- Are you sure? - Yes.
Ask for bail from the mad bull for Frank.
Oh, Lord, Bullingham will be turning up in the hereafter too, sooner or later! Yes, apply for bail, Fiona.
- I'II I'll ring you later.
- Later, yes.
Not too late.
The prosecution has no objection to bail continuing on the same terms.
Bail? Yes, of course, Miss Allways, by all means.
Yes, on the same terms.
- What is the news of Mr Rumpole? - He is resting peacefully, My Lord.
Peacefully? Ah, well, yes, it comes to all of us in time.
- Nothing else for me this afternoon? - Er, no, My Lord.
- No reply again.
- No reply from Rumpole's flat.
Probably no one at home.
That would be the natural assumption.
Well, we've got no reason to believe I agree.
All we know is Rumpole suffered a sort of stroke or seizure.
He often said that Judge Bullingham had that effect on him.
And he's clearly been taken somewhere.
I'd like a report from Allways.
Where is she? R v Armstrong being adjourned, sir, Miss Allways is travelling up to Manchester to do a porn job.
A porn job! This is hardly the moment for that sort of thing.
Mr Rumpole would want Chambers to carry on, sir, as usual.
Poor old fellow.
There's one thing to be said for him, he went in harness.
I don't think this is a matter we should discuss in the Clerk's Room.
I shall call a Chambers meeting when I have rather more detailed information.
Dianne, please! Didn't you hear what I said to Mr Ballard? Chambers must go on.
That would have been his wishes.
- (Telephone rings) - Hello.
"Please let firm of Blythe, Winterbottom and Paisley know sad news.
"Deeply regret Rumpole gone up to a higher tribunal, signed Rumpole.
" - Well, what is it, Henry? - It's a telemessage, sir, telegrams having been abolished.
I know it's a telemessage, but the wording, doesn't it strike you as being strange? Mr Rumpole was always one for his jokes, sir.
It caused us a good deal of embarrassment.
This can't have been signed by Rumpole, not in the circumstances.
In any interpretation, the word Rumpole, being silent as far as sex is concerned, must surely be referring to - (Both) Mrs Rumpole! - That's what I assumed.
I can't get through to the Gloucester Road flat on the telephone.
It seems there's a fault on the line.
- Have you tried calling round? - I have, sir.
No answer to my ring.
Well, it's a busy time in any family, a busy and distressing time.
Doesn't it strike you as being rather odd? - Oh, just a bit, sir, yes.
- As Head of Chambers, I should be first to be informed of any decease among members.
- Am I not entitled to that? - In the normal course of events, sir.
In the normal course of events, but this makes no reference to me, to his fellow members, not to the court in which he was appearing when he was stricken.
This firm of, er er, Blythe, Sidebottom and Winterbottom, sir, and Paisley.
Quite.
Was it a firm to which Rumpole was particularly attached? Don't think so, Mr Ballard.
They owed him money.
They owed him money? Strange, that's very strange.
From the way he was talking the other morning, I think the old fellow had a queer premonition the end was pretty close.
(Jack) I've got about 23 of his cheques.
(Henry) My clerk's fees aren't up to date.
You'll miss him round here.
Of course it's true.
Everyone's talking about it! Poor old boy! He'd had a good innings, though? I'm not sure how much of it was good.
The end itself made up for a great deal.
Of course, the end itself.
It means one's a chance of getting into Uncle Guthrie's old Chambers, continuing the family tradition.
As I told your uncle, the Judge, I can't promise anything.
The whole matter will be discussed at the Chambers meeting.
That telemessage was telephoned in at 3:15 yesterday afternoon.
Bit rum, isn't it? What does he mean, "higher tribunal"? I have no doubt he means that Great Court of Appeal before which we must all appear eventually.
I never got to the Court of Appeal.
Never had the brief to go there, as a matter of fact.
Just as well.
I wouldn't have been up to it.
Knowing Rumpole, there must be a joke there somewhere.
But this must have been sent by Mrs Rumpole.
He's not in a position to sign telemessages.
Not in a position? Oh, I see what you mean.
Yes, exactly! Of course, this sad event will mean some changes in Chambers.
So far as furniture's concerned, yes.
I don't suppose anyone will have any use for the old umbrella stand which stood in Rumpole's room? - His umbrella stand, Erskine-Brown? - Well, I happen to have conferences from time to time with a number of solicitors.
They have umbrellas So, if no one else wants it? I don't think there'll be exactly a stampede I was thinking There ought to be more work about? - Hoskins? - Well, I suppose Henry can hang on to some of Rumpole's solicitors, Myers and people like that.
Now the work may get spread around a bit.
I'm not sure that I agree with Hoskins.
You think Miss Allways may get her hands on his work? Where is she? Still up in Manchester on the obscenity.
Obscenity! That's exactly what I mean.
Or rape, or indecent assault, or possessing house-breaking instruments.
This may be our opportunity, sad as the occasion is, of course, to improve the image of Chambers.
Do we really want dirty-book merchants hanging around the Clerk's Room? I think there's a great deal in what Erskine-Brown says.
In my view, if you're not for moral degenerates, you're against them.
I'd like to see more prosecution work.
You're certain of the money with prosecutions.
As a man with daughters.
There is a young man who's a certainty for the Yard's list of prosecutors.
I've mentioned young Archie Featherstone to you, Erskine-Brown? The Judge's nephew.
Yes, well it may be in the changed circumstances, er we may have a room to offer Featherstone.
He won't be taking work from us? In my opinion, he'll bring it in, in the shape of prosecutions.
There are a few arrangements to be discussed.
Arrangements! Yes, of course.
I hope "arrangements" doesn't mean a crematorium.
There's something so depressing about those railway lines disappearing behind the velvet curtains.
- I prefer the old - Of course, it is something of an event.
I wonder if we'd get the Temple Church? I imagine not.
Of course, we've seen nothing in the "Times" obituaries.
He never got the cases which make legal history.
I suppose there might be some sort of memorial service in Pommeroys? I think we should send a modest floral tribute.
Henry could arrange that out of expenses.
There is such a thing as the great fraternity of the Bar.
Everyone agreed? (AIl) Agreed.
Now, in view of the fact that at the eleventh hour, he appeared to become reconciled to the deeper realities of our brief life, you may all care to stand for a few minutes' silence in memory of Horace Rumpole.
Mrs Rumpole? Blythe, Perivale Blythe, solicitor of the Supreme Court, - as I mentioned on the telephone.
- Yes, do come in.
I felt I had to intrude, even at this sad, sad moment, Mrs Rumpole.
Not as myself, not even as Blythe, Winterbottom and Paisley, but as a representative, if I may say so, of the entire legal profession.
Your husband was a very great gentleman and a fine lawyer.
A fine lawyer? He never told me.
And a most persuasive advocate.
Oh, yes, he told me that.
We all join you in your grief and I have to tell you this, there are no smiling faces today at Blythe, Winterbottom and Paisley.
- Thank you.
- Er, nor anywhere I suppose, from Inner London to Acton Magistrates.
He will be sorely missed.
I have to tell you what will be sorely missed, Mr Blythe.
What, Mrs Rumpole? All those fees that you owe him.
Since the indecency case, I believe, in 1972.
Ah! You have heard a little about that? - A great deal about it! - A great deal of that money hasn't been completely recovered from the clients, not in full.
But I am here to settle up.
I imagine that you are the executor of the late Mr Rumpole? - Who else? - And empowered to compromise.
In my experience, the bereaved only want to get the estate settled quickly.
It's far less distressing, hopefully, and no doubt the bereaved would want cash in hand? I'll tell you what this bereaved wants, Mr Blythe.
Tell me, Mrs Rumpole.
£2,765.
93p.
Well, quite the businesswoman, Mrs Rumpole.
Would immediate payment of 25 per cent be a nice little arrangement? You won't want a long dispute over the exact figure.
- Mr Blythe, I have to face the butcher! - Well, of course! And the water rates and the London Electricity Board, and the telephone was cut off while I was away in the Lake District.
I can't offer them a nice little arrangement, can I? - Possibly not.
- I can offer you one, Perivale Blythe.
Well, that's most obliging of you.
I will offer you this I will not report this conversation to the Law Society, although this year's president's father was a close friend of my father, Mr C H Wystan.
I will not take immediate steps to have you struck off, Mr Blythe, providing you sit there and write out a cheque for £2,765.
93p in favour of Hilda Rumpole.
Most unfortunately forgotten my cheque book.
I shall slip one in the post.
Have a look in your briefcase, Mr Blythe.
You'll find your chequebook there.
- (Doorbell rings) - Oh, excuse me! Oh, and don't try the window, Mr Blythe, it's really a great deal too far for you to jump.
(Sighs) Thank you, Mr Blythe, and now there's a gentleman to see you.
Fig Newton! But wh whatever is this? It's a subpoena, Mr Perivale Blythe.
They want you to give evidence in a case down the Old Bailey.
They've restored R versus Armstrong for this afternoon, Judge.
Armstrong? Who's taken over from Rumpole? I think Miss Allways is in court, Judge.
Miss Allways! Bright girl, that.
Good-Iooking girl.
In all the circumstances, do you think it at all appropriate if I sent her down a box of chocolates? No, Judge, I don't think it would be appropriate.
No, I suppose not.
It'd look well, however, - if I said a few words about Rumpole.
- Yes, Judge, it would look very well.
Members of the Jury, before we start this case, there are one or two words I want to say.
In our courts, friendships sometimes spring up between judges and counsel, between the Bench and the Bar.
We are not superior beings as judges, we do not put on side.
We are the barristers' friends, and one of my oldest friends over the years was Mr Horace Rumpole.
During the times he appeared before me in many cases, I can truthfully say there has never been a cross word between us, although we may have had trivial disagreements over points of law.
No, we're all part of that great happy family, members of the Jury, that is the Central Criminal Court.
And Mr Horace Rumpole was one of our old stagers.
Not a leader, perhaps, not a general, but one of the reliable, hard-working and good-hearted old soldiers of the line.
My Lord, I am deeply touched! Mr Rumpole! Rumpole, I heard The report was greatly exaggerated, I assure Your Lordship.
What a pleasure it is to resume this case before Your Lordship.
Mason! What does this mean? Quite honestly, Judge, I haven't a clue! And you wanted me to send flowers.
Mr Rumpole, have you an application? No application, My Lord.
If you remember, Your Lordship kindly adjourned this case.
It has now been restored to your list.
Our enquiries are complete and I shall call Mr Perivale Blythe.
- He's back? - Went straight to the Old Bailey, sir.
- Miss Allways is with him.
- Henry Is it too late to do something about the wreath? Mr Blythe, after the death of their father, did you continue to act for the brothers Armstrong, - my client and his brother Frederick? - Yes, I did.
And did Frederick supply and install the computers in his brother's holiday firm? - I believe he did.
- Yes.
Will you take the photographs of the Cornish holiday site, please, Mr Blythe? - The industrial area, Mr Rumpole.
- Exactly, My Lord.
Do you know what that industry is, Mr Blythe? - Tin mines, My Lord, I rather think.
- You think? You know, don't you? Did you not visit that site on behalf of your client, Frederick? I did.
He was anxious to buy his brother Frank's site.
Yes! He'd had it privately prospected and knew tin was to be found on it.
I believe so.
Of course, I don't believe he told his brother that.
I don't believe he did.
And when his brother refused to sell, did he not take every step to ruin his brother's business? Presumably by interfering with the computers he had installed, so that they gave misleading information, booked non-existent holiday homes and gave false instructions for caravans to be towed.
Oh, I never approved of that, My Lord.
I am an Officer of the Court.
I would have no part of it.
Even though you knew about it? Come along, Mr Blythe, you must have known to disapprove.
I take the gravest objection to this line of questioning.
Oh, only a trivial objection, My Lord, surely? Your Lordship told the jury that we only have trivial disagreements.
You are presenting an entirely new case to this witness, as far as I can see, without evidence.
Oh, there will be evidence, My Lord.
My learned friend won't give the evidence? I hope my learned friend does not wish to withhold from the jury that Detective Inspector Limmeridge arrested Mr Frederick Armstrong early this morning, after he'd entered his brother's office and was reprogramming his computers.
There will be a charge of perverting the course of justice.
- Is this true, Mr Ward-Webster? - So I understand, My Lord.
I shall recall the detective inspector, My Lord, as a witness for the defence.
Thank you, Mr Blythe! I don't understand why you were startled.
Isn't there a Biblical precedence? Rumpole! I suppose you're very proud of yourself? It wasn't a bad win, was it? Got the Sand Sun Mobile Homes owner away free.
Made the world safe for ghastly holidays.
I'm not referring to your case.
You caused us all, the great fraternity of the Bar, unnecessary grief! Oh, come off it, old darling! You couldn't wait to re-let my room to young Archie Featherstone.
Within a month "or ere those shoes were old" with which you followed Rumpole's body "like Niobe, all tears".
We had to plan for the future, distressed as we were.
Deeply distressed, my eye! Didn't Uncle Tom suggest a memorial service in Pommeroys Wine Bar? I never approved of that.
Not a bad idea, actually, now I'm back in the funds again.
Why don't I invite you all? And I thought you'd finally found faith! That's what I shall never forgive.
We are rich beyond the dreams of avarice! She Who Must Be Obeyed has the cheque in her handbag.
It was very naughty of Rumpole, but it was the only way to get his fees from that appalling Mr Perivale Blythe.
- You were a party to this conspiracy? - Oh, yes! I'll have you after my job, Mrs Rumpole.
I couldn't get Blythe to pay up, not till we got this idea.
(Fiona) He'd never die in the middle of a case! It was the same when we thought he'd retired.
He kept popping back like a bloody opera singer! (Loud knocking) Learned friends, since none of you seem inclined, it falls to me to say a few words.
After the sad news that poor old Rumpole had kicked the bucket, it must have come as a pleasure to learn that he had simply turned a little pale.
When he was deceased, he was constantly in your thoughts.
Some of you wanted his room.
Some of you wanted his work.
Someone, I know, couldn't wait to get his covetous fingers on his umbrella stand.
But be that as it may, you are all cordially invited to drink to his long life and continued success in a glass of Chateau Thames Embankment.
Oh, Jack! - To Rumpole! - To his positively last reappearance! He looks so much better since he died, don't you think? - To the great fraternity of the Bar! - (Everyone) Hear, hear! May it rest in peace!