Rumpole of the Bailey (1978) s04e03 Episode Script

(Whirring) (Birds twitter) (Big Ben chimes two o'clock) "Biscuit war in the Ministry of Defence.
" Do listen to this, Hilda, this is what passes for news.
"Government extravagance has been highlighted "by the astonishing sums subsidising tea and biscuits "consumed by civil servants at the Ministry of Defence.
"The cost of elevenses, plus the money spent on entertaining "a long list of foreign visitors, would, it is calculated, "have paid for the Crimean War three times over.
" - (Hilda shouts) Afters, Rumpole? - Afters? Of course I want afters.
(Shouts) We need a hatch, Rumpole! Didn't I hear some rumours of a baked jam roll? If we had a hatch through into the kitchen I shouldn't have to walk all the way round to fetch your afters.
I don't like hatches, Hilda.
You're always against anything at all convenient.
We had a hatch at the vicarage when I was a boy.
The thing rumbled up from the bowels of the earth smelling of stale cabbage.
This wouldn't rumble up from anywhere.
It'd come straight through from the kitchen.
- Custard? - Custard! Yeah, just imagine, if we hadn't spent all that money on tea and biscuits we could have had another three Crimean Wars.
You sent for me, Mr Thorogood.
Is this your glove, Miss Tuttle? Oh, I say, how super! It's worth losing things, isn't it, for the sheer bliss of having them turn up again? I think this gentleman would like to have a word with you.
Yes.
I'm Detective Inspector Fallowes, this is Detective Sergeant Hamling.
We're investigating the possible leak of classified information from the Ministry of Defence, and would be grateful for your co-operation.
What do you suggest we do, Oliver, turn a blind eye? You can't really go through with this prosecution, because of some piddling little leak about biscuits? Biscuits or bombs, in my opinion it's the same principle.
We'll be a laughing stock.
She signed the Official Secrets Act.
She broke her oath, that's not a piddling little leak, as you so elegantly put it.
Rosemary Tuttle, I've seen her wandering around looking like a Ukrainian peasant out of a musical comedy.
She's an amiable eccentric.
Amiable eccentrics, in my opinion, are far too dangerous to be allowed to wander around ministries selling secrets to the press.
It was the chatterbox column in "The Sunday Fortress".
The Minister reads "The Sunday Fortress" and he wasn't entertained by it.
Speaking personally, I feel sorry for the old trout.
Papers have been sent to the Attorney General.
We'll be guided by him.
Now, recommended re-siting for Operation Blueberry.
Are we ready to pass on to that? Oh, Mr Erskine-Brown, please.
Claudey? Batty Bowling.
Yes.
Yes, long time, isn't it? I've got to make it snappy, I'm not phoning from the office.
There's an old girl in need of legal advice.
Think nothing of it.
Anything I can do.
See you soon, Batty.
(Opera music plays) Oh, I was looking for your wife.
Join the club.
With her practice she's almost never at home these days.
She asked me to do some research for her.
I suppose Phyllida and I will meet again some day.
It's no picnic, I can tell you, being married to a busy silk.
Look here, what about me calling you Sue? You can if you like.
Actually, my name's Liz.
Just testing.
Well, to be quite honest with you, it's, er it's a pretty ghastly sort of situation, Liz.
My wife has absolutely no time for it.
No time for it? Either she's away, or on the rare moment that she's at home she's far too tired.
I feel I'm missing a vital part of my life.
- Can you understand that? - Well, I I suppose I can in a way.
I mean, it's not the sort of thing a chap likes to do on his own.
- No! No, of course not.
- It'll be 18 months next Tuesday.
I'm suffering terrible withdrawal symptoms.
I'll leave these with you, then I've got to be All she could manage was "La Vie Parisienne" over Christmas.
- You must know how it feels? - No.
I'm not sure that I do exactly.
So long.
I can hardly remember the last time I sat down to a decent evening of Wagner.
(Ducks quack) (Big Ben chimes two o'clock) Well, I must be getting back.
Oh, I forgot, I have nowhere to go.
Civil servants can be remarkably uncivil at times.
- I must admit it it is a bit hairy.
- I've been making some enquiries.
All the chaps in the Ministry have been doing that.
No, some enquiries among friends in the law.
What you're going to need is a specialist.
Specialist? In Official Secrets? A specialist in laughing ridiculous cases out of court.
- (Whispers) Psst! Rumpole! - Erskine-Brown? - A word in confidence.
- A secret? Ssshh! I've invited you to the opera next month.
Not Wagner? Well, yes, it does happen to be "The Meistersinger".
Who said that Wagner's music isn't nearly as bad as it sounds? Oh, don't worry, you won't actually have to come to the opera.
- You didn't ask me? - Oh, I did ask you.
- I refused? - Quite the reverse, you accepted.
You'd like to get to know a good deal more about music drama.
White man speak in riddles.
It's just that if my wife should happen to ask you where I was on the 28th of next month - Yes? - We went to the opera together.
- But I won't have been there.
- That's the whole point! - Will you have been there? - Ah, that's something of a secret.
I can count on you, can't I, Rumpole? Why should I go along with you in this sordid little conspiracy? Because I've done an enormous favour for you, Rumpole.
Favour? - I was at school with this chap.
- You surprise me.
Batty Bowling.
It seems he's done tremendously well in the civil service.
Some harmless old biddy in his department's got into a spot of trouble.
They wanted someone who'd turn the whole trial into a sort of musical term, so naturally I recommended you.
Oh, naturally.
Civil of you, Claude, extremely civil of you.
To me.
Right here and down a bit.
What's this? A present from Her Majesty the Queen.
No, a loan from the Ministry of Defence.
- What's in it? The Crown Jewels? - It's your brief.
In a safe? That's how they're supplied when the matter is confidential, so that the papers don't fall into the wrong hands.
- Ah! How do you open it? - There's a number for the combination.
What is it? (Whispers) It doesn't do to mention these things in public! Well, whisper it into the lock, Henry.
There's a brief in there, a cash brief, with any luck.
Four five three eight one.
- Wrong.
- Four, five, three, one, eight, wasn't it? (Whispers) Dianne, please! Four, five, three, one eight.
Oh, dear! Open sesame! Oh-ho-ho! That's the safest safe I've ever seen.
"Dear Mr Chatterbox, do you want to hear about tea and scandal, "their ancient custom, in the Ministry of Defence? "It's all highly secret and might make a good story for your column.
" Sounds familiar.
Where does that come from? - I've no idea.
- Neither have I.
(Phone rings) Oh, oh, that'll be for me.
Yes, I'm expecting a call.
All right.
Hello? Er yes, yes, it is.
Will you hold on a moment, please? - I'll take it in the kitchen.
- Why? Isn't a person entitled to a few secrets? Oh, secrets! "I'll be on the second bench after the bridge coming from the Mall.
"I've got fairish hair, and I wear rather brightly coloured clothes.
"I'll leave at 2pm.
What you want will be left on the seat, "folded inside a copy of 'The Daily Telegraph'.
" Oh! (Hilda shouts) Rumpole! - Yes, Hilda? - What's the matter with our phone? - It looks perfectly all right to me.
- It makes little hiccupping sounds.
- Hiccupping? - Have you paid the bill? Bill, perhaps not.
Pressure of work.
Well, if you hadn't paid the bill it should be cut off, it shouldn't hiccup.
Well, see to it, Rumpole, and try not to be totally irresponsible.
To hear is to obey, oh, mistress of the blue horizons.
But Miss Tuttle is bound by the Official Secrets Act.
It's alleged she copied confidential documents and gave them to the press.
- (Rumpole) About biscuits? - Section 2 says Now, please, Mr James, it is a well-known fact that section 2 of the Official Secrets Act is the raving of governmental paranoia.
- But if she has broken the law - Then the jury has the right to acquit.
Members of the jury, if you consider this to be a case of bureaucracy run mad, that this spinster lady, whom I have the honour to represent, should be hounded through the courts simply because our masters in Whitehall cannot control their revolting greed for ginger nuts and Dundee shortcake, then you have every right to return a resounding verdict of not guilty.
Look, I'm awfully sorry to butt in Yes, what do you what? Well, you can say all that in court, if you like.
Oh, but I do like, Miss Tuttle.
Strong stuff, I admit, but I feel fully justified.
- But don't you see? I didn't do it.
- Nothing? Mr Rumpole, I'm jolly well innocent.
Innocent.
My dear lady, your glove was found that night by the copying machine.
I can't understand how it got there at all.
It must have walked.
Miss Tuttle, please consider this very carefully.
If you admit to this noble act, I can make you a heroine, a Joan of Arc in shining armour, battling the forces of bureaucracy.
And what if I deny it? Then in the jury's eyes you're trying to lie your way out of trouble.
Please, Miss Tuttle, consider it very carefully.
I've got to tell the truth.
Yes.
Yes, Miss Tuttle, I suppose you have.
All right, Mr James, we will check the evidence, and we'll start with our own typewriter test.
(Chatter) - (Liz) Rumpole! - Oh, Miss Probert, you startled me.
- I wanted to tell you something.
- Not a secret? It's about Claude Erskine-Brown.
He's asked me - To the opera? - Yeah.
What do you think? Well, at your age it should be all right.
But for me, well, time's getting a bit short for Wagner.
It might be terribly embarrassing.
Oh, I don't remember they did much stripping off at Nuremburg.
He'd not use it to project some sort of masculine aggression? He might say I've got terribly nice eyes.
- Oh, I don't think so.
- Oh, don't you? - I don't mean that they're not nice.
I - Rumpole! Don't you start presenting a male stereotype! Oh, certainly not.
God forbid.
No, purely functionalised, yours, scarcely worth a mention.
(Phone rings) (Rumpole) Uncle Tom.
(Uncle Tom) Ah, Horace.
I've been meaning to ask you this for a good number of years.
- Ask away, dear boy.
- You come into chambers everyday.
You'd come in regularly every day if you had to live with my sister.
- But you never seem to get a brief.
- I've had briefs in my time.
I've done running down cases, three or four running down cases.
- But not for some considerable time.
- Well, not recently, no.
But you always carry a briefcase just like mine.
I'd say our briefcases were roughly the same vintage.
- What I want to know is, what's in it? - Care to have a look? - I would consider it a privilege.
- Good.
There we go.
- A carton of milk.
- Milk.
A green muffler my sister insists I take with me.
- Pretty.
- Cheese and tomato sandwiches.
- Care for one? - No, no.
Times crossword.
A few golf balls, and some throat pastilles.
- Zubes.
- Zubes.
What are Zubes for? Well, doesn't your voice get tired when you're speaking in court? But you never speak in court.
Well, one never knows when one might be called upon.
No, one never knows.
I say, who was that chap on the ladder? Somebody sent in to mend the light, I suppose.
- He was like you, Horace.
- Er not terribly like me, Uncle Tom.
Well, he seemed extraordinarily interested in my briefcase.
- (Whispers) Rumpole! - Ballard.
A word in your ear.
Walls have ears, you know, particularly in a clerk's room.
I'm prosecuting you in the secrets case.
- (Whispers) The biscuits case? - The secrets.
The secret biscuits.
What are we whispering for? It's not often a secrets brief comes our way in chambers.
- Aha! Dead for a ducat! Dead! - Rumpole, what are you doing? I thought there might be a couple of Russians behind the arras.
This is a particularly serious case, and what's at issue here isn't merely biscuits.
Oh, I know.
Something far more important than that.
Lavatory paper.
- Rumpole! - And tea and biscuits, of course.
And free holidays, and entertaining named persons.
It's a question of loyalty to the Crown.
I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but the Attorney General takes a serious view.
Oh, is the old sweetheart fond of biscuits? Look here, Rumpole Horace, I don't know whether I've told you this but I have just been elected to the Sheridan Club.
How wonderful.
Was it on "News At Ten"? I wondered if you'd care to join me there for a spot of lunch? Why do you hesitate? I always fear prosecuting counsel when they come bearing offers of free lunch.
They suddenly look terribly Greek.
(Chatter) I'm just taking a ginger ale.
One does try to avoid alcohol at lunch time.
Oh, does one? I'll have a club claret, please.
Er could you make it a double? A large claret, please, and a ginger ale.
Thank you.
Seeing as it's on the Ministry of Defence.
- The Attorney General - Oh, he's paying, is he? No, he's here.
Er Mr Attorney, this is Horace Rumpole.
He's defending Tuttle.
Can I get you a drink, can I? - A gin and ton, thanks, Sam.
A large.
- Oh - I imagine Tuttle's a plea of guilty? - Absolutely no harm in imagining.
This is only the tip of the iceberg, you know.
- What is? - Biscuits.
Oh, I know.
There's something far more important - Swiss roll.
Molesworth? - Rumpole.
- What? - My name's Rumpole.
- No, Molesworth.
No, really.
The American Air Force base at Molesworth.
Oh, sorry.
Where all the alleged protesters camp out with their Thermoses.
Or is it Thermi? I must say, if they're all genuine CND protesters, my name's Gorbachev.
And there's no point in going into Molesworth.
I imagine Sam will take a plea on the biscuits.
If she confesses, this Lord Chief'll probably keep the old bat out of chokey.
Is the Lord Chief Justice coming down to try it? Oh, yes.
It's a question of loyalty in the Civil Service.
The Government's very concerned about it.
It's going to be quite a party.
Wouldn't you, Sam, take a plea on the biscuits? Oh, I'd be guided, of course, by the Law Officers of the Crown.
- I'll have my G and T.
- There's something I'd like to ask you.
Well, perhaps this isn't the place for further discussion.
- All the best, you fellows.
- My telephone has developed hiccups.
Perhaps it's had rather too much claret.
Ha-ha! What's more, we had a red notice about a month ago, they haven't cut it off yet.
Well, you're in luck's way then, aren't you, Rumpole? Frank! Oh, my dear fellow, how are you? "Do you want to hear about tea and scandal"comma.
Thank you for letting Miss Tuttle use her typewriter.
Oh, that's all right, Mr Rumpole, anything to oblige the defence.
I'm sure.
She told you why she took it into the Ministry, did she? She said she brought it in to get on with reports when the typing pool was busy.
Quite.
Oh, by the way, Mr Rumpole, I'd, er just like to warn you, sir, to be careful of acquaintances when on a sensitive case like this.
Indeed? O'Rourke mean anything? Seamus O'Rourke, suspected IRA sympathiser? O'Rourke? Absolutely nothing.
Perhaps to your wife then.
We'd just like you to be extra careful.
You don't mind me mentioning it? There, now, I expect you'll want to take these with you.
Thank you.
They came from the same machine as the notes to "The Sunday Fortress".
(Rumpole shouts) Get up and leave, please.
Ah, Mr James, leave "The Daily Telegraph"! (Birds twitter) Well, for the moment, I'm giving Miss Tuttle some idea of learned counsel.
Er Mr Rumpole.
This is Oliver Bowling of the Ministry.
Ah, Mr Bowling, I believe I'm indebted to you for the brief.
It's the most ridiculous business.
It won't do anyone the slightest good.
Anything I can do to help? Character witness? Did Miss Tuttle always have a lunch here? - I mean, right there? - Oh, I believe so.
In all sorts of weather, too.
A bit of a fresh-air fiend, Rosemary Tuttle, and very regular in her habits.
Oh? Back in the office by ten past two.
You could set your watch by her.
- It's so rare nowadays.
- What, outdoor sandwich eaters? No, I mean someone you can rely on, utterly.
(Phone rings) A word with you.
We're not going into secret session again? Miss Probert, might I have a word with your pupil master? All right, Liz.
That girl, Probert, she can't possibly come into court.
- She is going to take a note for me.
- Impossible.
She's a member of the bar, Ballard, you can't keep her out! We were grossly deceived.
She is not a clergyman's daughter.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Are the courts only open to clergymen's daughters today? You and I had better buzz off home.
Detective Inspector Fallowes has just told me who she is.
So? She is the daughter of Ron Probert, Red Ron.
- Well? - Chairman of a certain London council.
So? You do see, we can't have a girl like that in court, not on a sensitive case.
You mean a case about sensitive biscuits? It might not be just biscuits, we might have to apply to add new charges.
Oh, yes, you do that.
Make this prosecution look even more fatuous.
I would advise you to take this matter seriously.
And I would advise you, Ballard, if you can find a taxidermist willing to undertake the work, to get stuffed.
I'm only warning you, Rumpole, in the national interest.
"The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations".
A bit worn around the edges, like me.
Tea, there we are.
Yes.
Tea.
Tea tea.
Ah, there we are.
Breakfast, lunch, dinner and "Is there honey still for" No.
"Dost sometimes counsel take and sometimes tay" That's not it.
"To their tea and scandal".
That's more like it.
One hundred and four.
Hilda! (Hilda shouts) What did you say? Do you happen to know anyone Irish? I can't hear you.
If we had a hatch, you could talk to me through that and I could hear you perfectly well.
Seamus O'Rourke.
What on earth are you talking about, Rumpole? Do you happen to know an Irish friend called Seamus O'Rourke? - What sort of friend? - Well, any sort of friend.
- Why do you ask? - Oh, God knows.
- What? - Er God knows why I ask, Hilda.
It's something to do with Official Secrets.
There we are.
"Retired to their tea and scandal, according to their ancient custom.
" William Congreve.
- It's time for the news.
- Oh, there's the real nonsense.
(Male newsreader) ' in Brussels next week.
'Whitehall is buzzing tonight with rumours 'of a further leak from the Ministry of Defence.
'An article in "Newsweek" has suggested 'that information concerning the sensitive 'NATO Operation Blueberry is already in the hands of the KGB ' So, that's why we're having the pleasure of his company.
- Whose company? - The Lord Chief Justice of England.
Put up Rosemary Alice Tuttle.
- (Man) Are you Rosemary Alice Tuttle? - Yes, I am.
(Chief Justice) Are any amendments to be made to this indictment? New charges to be added? My lord, I make no immediate application.
What is an immediate application when it's at home? Either my learned friend is making an application, or not.
Why don't you wait and see, Mr Rumpole? - No doubt your time will come.
- I dare say it will.
(Chief Justice) Yes, Mr Ballard Yours was in a corner of the clerk's room.
Sure you didn't leave it there? Of course I didn't leave it there.
And what is Uncle Tom's doing in my room? (Chief Justice) Very well.
Let the jury be sworn (Chatter) Rosemary good luck.
I'm sorry I can't stay, I must dash.
- All the very best.
- Thank you.
- Bye-bye.
- Thank you very much.
He seems a decent enough fellow, old Batty Bowling, er for a civil servant.
I have the most super boss, Mr Rumpole.
Always listens to your problems, never spares himself.
Burns the midnight oil.
Well, so do I.
Often when I'm late typing up a report, I hear his singing.
Oh, musical, is he? About the only chap I know who can actually whistle Wagner.
Whistle Wagner? That's fantastic.
It must be something they teach them at Winchester.
Well, we've got you bail for the lunch hour.
Care for a Guinness and a fragment of steak pie and greens across the road? - No, I've brought sandwiches.
- Of course, yes.
There's a little churchyard just round the corner here.
Yes.
Quite.
There's something I wanted to ask you, um about Congreve.
Congreve? Is he at the Ministry? A William Congreve, Miss Tuttle, an English dramatist of genius.
Carried on with the Duchess of Marlborough.
- Doesn't the name ring any sort of bell? - Oh, yes, vaguely.
- I was an economist, actually.
- Yes, of course.
Oh, and there's one other thing, um the bomb.
The bomb? The nuclear deterrent.
Do you have affection for it? Oh, golly, yes.
Like all chaps in the Ministry.
We're 100°% behind the bomb.
Of course.
That's all I wanted to know.
Thank you.
(Rumpole) Mr Warboys, or should we call you Mr Chatterbox? There's no need to be offensive to the witness.
Do keep still, Ballard.
It is the man's pen name.
It would probably be better if you simply used the witness's name, Mr Rumpole.
Of course, I'm obliged to Your Lordship.
I shall try to remember.
Mr War-boys, you make your living by divulging secrets, do you not? I dunno what you mean.
- Who's sleeping with whom.
- I write a gossip column, yeah.
Familiar with section 2 of the Official Secrets Act? I know something about it.
That it is an offence to receive secret information? - I believe it is.
- You can receive two years in the nick.
Two years' imprisonment, Mr Rumpole.
Oh, I'm obliged to Your Lordship.
I beg its pardon.
Imprisonment.
For a story about biscuits? Oh, the Ministry of Defence is very protective of its biccies.
Members of the jury, you may hear a good deal about biscuits from the defence in this case, and I suggest that after Mr Rumpole has got his laugh we take this matter seriously.
This is a case about whether or not a servant of the Crown was loyal to the interests of the Government.
Very well.
Your Lordship would prefer me not to call a biscuit a biscuit? Shall we settle for une petite pièce de pâtissière? What is your next question, Mr Rumpole? Ah, yes, I was so fascinated with Your Lordship's address to the jury, I've forgotten my next question.
Er ah, yes! Do you expect to be prosecuted for receiving secret information, Mr Warboys? - Er no, not really.
- The police have set your mind at rest? I've been told I've nothing to worry about, yeah.
In return for giving evidence against the spinster lady whom I have the honour to represent, you are saving your own skin, Mr Warboys! I have agreed to co-operate with the police, yeah.
Upholding the finest traditions of British journalism.
Mr Rumpole, have you any relevant questions to ask this witness? Of course.
Now, then, regarding your alleged meeting with Miss Tuttle In St James's Park.
- That was the only time you saw her? - Yeah.
And you didn't speak to her at all.
In fact, by the time you had reached her bench she had gone? That's what happened.
Now, Mr Warboys, from the moment you saw her get up and go, until you reached the bench and collected that envelope, was the newspaper it was wrapped in always in your sight? No, I can't be sure.
Several people may have passed in front of the bench between you and it? They may have done.
They may have done.
So, you never actually met Miss Tuttle at all? No.
I had her letters, of course.
- She hadn't signed them, had she? - No.
- Didn't even have her name on them? - No.
So, when you say her letters, that's a pure guess.
The second letter said that, er she would be sitting on the park bench and would leave at two o'clock.
And there she was.
But when you say that she actually wrote those notes, that is a guess.
I suppose Mr Ballard will say to the jury that that is a reasonable deduction, Mr Rumpole.
My lord, I cannot be responsible for what my learned friend may say to the jury.
Thank you, Mr Chat Mr Warboys.
Mr Royce Williams, are you an expert in questioned handwriting, and have you also made a special study of typewriters? - Yes.
- Have you considered the notes (Whispers) I'm beginning to feel at home at last.
Mr Warboys of "The Sunday Fortress", and the other documents, three and four, later typed by Miss Tuttle, as has been admitted in the Detective Inspector's office at New Scotland Yard? - Yes, I have.
- Hand the documents to the witness.
Just tell the court your conclusions.
My conclusions, my lord, is they're all typed on the same typewriter, and on standard issue A4 typing paper.
By standard issue, you mean? Standard issue in government departments, my lord.
Thank you.
Yes, Mr Rumpole? Mr Royce Williams, as an acknowledged expert on the subject, would you say that a typewriter doesn't work itself, but that a human agency is involved in the operation? Yes, of course.
And that human operators have varying levels of skill? - I should have thought that obvious.
- Please bear with me.
Now, on the whole, a highly skilled typist will type smoothly, hitting every key with equal force, whereas one not so used to the machine may hit some keys harder than others, perhaps after hesitation, or perhaps less hard because they have less skill.
That is certainly possible.
You've considered that with these documents? - No, I must confess - (Rumpole) Let us take an example.
Would you look, please, at the word, "scandal" in the note sent to Mr Warboys? Aren't the S and the C heavier than the other letters in the word? That would seem to be so.
And now let us look at the example typed by Miss Tuttle in Scotland Yard.
Every letter has the same definition throughout.
Yes, I think they have.
Might that not lead you to the conclusion that while both notes were typed on the same machine, using the same paper, they were typed by two different people? - I suppose it might.
- You suppose there might.
Mr Rumpole, where is this evidence leading us? Your Lordship asks me that! (Rumpole) 'Believe me, old darling, I wish I knew.
' To the truth, my lord, or isn't that what we are supposed to discover? (Chatter) Well, what do you think of the new latest leak from the Ministry? Important, is it? Oh, perhaps I shouldn't ask! Sometimes I wonder what is really important.
Wouldn't it be better if we all told everyone what we've got, instead of trying to frighten each other with a lot of spurious secrets? - Mustn't say that in the Department.
- Oh, of course not.
I'd better get back there.
Can't you wait and see me cross-examine your big cheese, the Permanent Under Secretary? Afraid not.
What sort of chap is he, Sir Frank Fawcett? Comes from an antediluvian family, fellows that the flood couldn't wash away.
- He'll be immensely fair.
- Ah.
Give me a ring if you need me.
I may want to ring you at home when court's over.
Oh, right.
Well, you'll need the number.
There we are.
I'll be leaving early, a chap from the Foreign Office has got the use of the Royal Box at Covent Garden.
- You can dine there, it's rather fun.
- Oh, really? "Comes from a branch of one of your antediluvian families, "fellows that the flood couldn't wash away.
" (Rumpole) Sir Frank Fawcett, you know something about my client, Miss Rosemary Tuttle? Yes, I have read the reports on her.
You have no reason to think that she would constitute any sort of danger to the State, have you? - May I refresh my memory, my lord? - Yes, of course.
Thank you.
Rosemary Alice Tuttle, born of Austrian parents, Franz and Maria Toller.
They emigrated when she was two years old and changed their name.
She was educated at Hampstead High School for Girls, and the London School of Economics.
Ah, there's no mystery about that, except that they chose the name Tuttle.
She was vetted when she took up her post with us.
Yes.
Er is anything further known against her? Do you really want all this evidence in? Keep your head when all about are losing theirs, and blaming it on you.
There were unconfirmed reports that she was seen at Molesworth American Air Force base in January 1986 - Rumpole! - Yes, isn't it appalling? Allegedly attending an entirely peaceful demonstration.
She was questioned about the matter, and denied it.
She suggested it might have been someone else similarly dressed.
- Did that seem to you improbable? - It did, my lord, yes.
She wasn't recommended for promotion and was kept under surveillance.
(Chief Justice) Surveillance which seems to have been ineffective.
(Fawcett) I'm afraid so, my lord.
(Rumpole) Yes, she got at the biccies.
- (Chief Justice) Mr Rumpole! - Yes, very well.
Let us try to take this little scandal seriously.
Have you been able to check that the material leaked to the press about the cost of refreshment and entertaining and so on was accurate? - It's not entirely accurate.
- Yes, please, go on.
Well, actually, um my enquiries have led me to believe that we spend a good deal more than has been suggested, my lord.
Ah, so that the secrets leaked to the press aren't accurate official secrets at all? Not entirely accurate, no.
Sir Frank, there is something a great deal more significant than biscuits at the bottom of this particular barrel, isn't there? - I'm not sure what you mean, exactly.
- Neither am I.
I mean that far more sensitive material than that has recently been leaked from the Ministry of Defence.
You think that that question is in the interests of your client? That's why I asked it.
Would you answer, please? - My lord - Answer, we are in camera.
The answer is yes.
And there has been no application to add further charges against my client? - Not as yet, my lord.
- No, Mr Rumpole, not as yet.
So, then, you don't yet know the source of this particular leak? No.
And when, and if, charges are brought against whoever it may be, then this little scandal about the cost of Civil Service gastronomical extravagance will seem even more paltry and insignificant.
Members of the jury, it may come as a welcome relief to you all if we adjourned now.
(Usher) Be upstanding.
(Rumpole) Yes, Henry.
Could you get me a number? 4025920.
That's right.
Oh, er Bowling is his name, Oliver Bowling.
Thank you.
- Rumpole.
- Yes, Claude.
Claude! You look as though the Valkyries have been after you all night.
Rumpole, I have to tell you, we didn't go to the opera together.
Oh, a pity, I was looking forward to not being there.
I mean, if you should see my wife, if Phyllida should bump into you around chambers, don't bother to tell her how much you enjoyed "Meistersingers".
- Snoozed off, did I? - She knows I didn't take you.
Oh! Been rumbled, Erskine-Brown.
Oh, ha-ha, Horace! As I suppose you might say, "grassed".
Well, I may as well tell you the truth.
Liz Probert rang up Phyllida and said that I'd taken her to Covent Garden.
- Well, hadn't you? - Well, of course I had.
Oh, I see.
And Phyllida Erskine-Brown, the Portia of our chambers, isn't demonstrating the quality of mercy.
She doesn't speak, Rumpole.
Breakfast passes by in utter silence.
And I did nothing, you understand, absolutely nothing.
Not even compliment Miss Liz on her eyes in the crushed bar? - How did you know? - That was your mistake, Claude.
Young women like Miss Probert these days don't appreciate that sort of thing.
To go and blurt out the truth like that to a chap's wife! It was totally uncalled for! Maybe she doesn't believe in Official Secrets.
- Talking of which - What? Bowling.
Why the Batty? Very good at cricket, was he? Good heavens, no.
Bats in the belfry.
Never minded what he said, questioned everything in class.
- And he was a bit of a show-off.
- What about? Oh, his literary knowledge, spouting quotations.
- Something like you, Rumpole.
- (Phone rings) I I say, Horace, do you imagine Phylli will ever speak to me again? Of course she will, Claude.
Yes.
If only to say goodbye.
Oh, hello, Mr Bowling.
It's Horace Rumpole.
Look, I wonder if you could spare me a few minutes during the first act, say? Oh, splendid.
I'd be most grateful Well, I know how concerned you are about Miss Tuttle.
Good evening, my name's Rumpole.
Mr Bowling said you'd show me up.
- Yes, if you'll come this way, sir.
- Thank you.
Thank you.
(Operatic singing) (Whispers) I can give you ten minutes.
Tosca doesn't get going until the second act.
- When she kills him.
- Exactly.
How can I help you? Well, I wanted to defend Miss Tuttle on the basis that what she did was entirely public-spirited and quite justifiable.
Well, I'm inclined to agree.
But she rather put me off my stroke.
She insisted she did nothing.
My dear chap, the evidence.
Ah, yes, the evidence.
What evidence, exactly? Someone else used her typewriter to type those notes to the press.
That someone could have left her glove beside the copying machine, and dropped the envelope in "The Daily Telegraph" under that park bench.
Why would anyone want to go through that? Yes, indeed.
Why should anyone want to frame Miss Tuttle on a silly charge about biscuits? Well, yes.
And why? Someone who wanted to make her look ridiculous, dishonest, and totally unreliable.
Someone who wanted to make her appear in public as a gossiping old busybody who couldn't even get her facts right, so that if she gave evidence about something really important no-one would pay a blind bit of notice to her.
Really important? The big leak, Mr Bowling, the NATO thing - warheads, submarines, whatever it was.
Or perhaps it was no more important than biscuits, hmm? Would the world be a more dangerous place if we did without secrets altogether? You don't think so, do you? - Did I say that to you? - Oh, yes.
I can understand your intentions.
The end of the arms race, the beginning of peace.
I must get back to the opera.
I don't know exactly when it was, but it must have been a time when you ought to have been on leave, out of the office certainly.
It was late at night, she heard you whistling Wagner, perhaps? She walked in, saw you doing whatever you were doing, and almost certainly she didn't realise what it was, but you couldn't be certain of that, could you? Bank robbers sometimes shoot witnesses.
Now, how much more subtle to make her appear absolutely ridiculous? What do you intend to do? Recall Sir Frank Fawcett to the witness box, and put the whole business to him.
Oh, you remember Sir Frank, whose "antediluvian family survived the flood"? But that was your quotation, from Congreve.
Congreve "Love for Love".
And you quoted him in your note to Mr Chatterbox.
That was what Erskine-Brown told me about you, you can't resist showing off about your knowledge, even when perpetrating a forgery.
Ah, poor Miss Tuttle.
She is a very conventional English spinster lady.
She wouldn't dream of demonstrating at Molesworth.
That was your unconfirmed report, I take it? Oh, and the only thing she knows about Congreve is that gentleman's name.
Rumpole I can't help you! My allegiance is to my client.
It's a question of loyalty.
(Music builds to a crescendo) (Underground train approaches) Ah, Rumpole, there's been a development.
There's a small paragraph on the inside page of "The Times".
"Regrettable accident at Covent Garden tube station.
" Like everything else about this case, absolutely unnecessary.
I've been in touch with the Attorney General Oh, and how does he feel? We're offering no further evidence in view of the fact that the information leaked to the press was inaccurate.
Of course, that gives you the out, doesn't it? That's lucky for you.
And my client, of course, discharged without a stain on her character.
- Yes.
- Tell the truth, did he? I'm not prepared to divulge that.
He rang Sir Frank Fawcett from the opera? - I'm not prepared - Secrets! In God's name, whatever would we do without them? But they lead to death, don't they, Ballard? Stupid unnecessary secrets lead to death.
(Loud banging) - A fair cop! - Oh! - Mr Rumpole! - Ah, you recognise me.
One of the advantages of practice at the criminal bar is that one does not expect to be burgled.
- Burgled? I'm just - You know what I mean.
Breaking and entering! It looks like you're breaking and exiting.
You mind me pointing out that's an interior wall that you're attacking.
I'd abandon your career in crime, you've no talent for it.
I don't know what you're talking about.
House-breaking implements.
An entire bag full of them.
(Hilda shouts) Rumpole! I might have let you go with a promise of future good behaviour, but one is coming in whom the quality of mercy is considerably strained.
I thought you were in court all day.
Hilda, there is a man in the room.
An intruder! Of course there's a man in the room.
He's come to do the hatch.
How are you getting on, Mr O'Rourke? - Oh, just fine, missus.
- Not Seamus O'Rourke? All repairs and conversions cheerfully undertaken.
They've been listening to your telephone conversations, Hilda.
Talking of the telephone, Rumpole Conversations concerning a kitchen hatch.
The instrument has died on us at last.
Listen to that.
Silent as the tomb.
I told you to pay the bill.
- Pressure of business.
- Yes.
Well, now they've cut us off.
At last.
I'm sorry about this intrusion, Mr O'Rourke, please continue.
Nobody's listening to us any more.
Nobody wants to look inside my briefcase, nobody is following me from Temple tube station.
Secrets case is over.
Old Batty Bowling is dead, normal service will be resumed shortly.