Rumpole of the Bailey (1978) s05e02 Episode Script
Rumpole and the Barrow Boy
(Indistinct chatter) (#All sing "Happy Birthday To You") Happy birthday to you Happy birthday, dear Nigel Happy birthday to you! (Cheering) Don't be so stingy with the poo, Mark.
To Nigel Timson, a bull birthday and a bear mark! And let's hope he rallies in late trading, Rosie! Don't drift downwards with the Nikkei Dow.
- Keep up with the plucky little pound! - Nothing wrong with the dear old pound.
- Happy birthday, darling.
- Oh, what is it? A little token of appreciation from the Chairman's daughter, for six months of dedicated service.
- (Laughter) - That's where the dollar got to! One more thing (Cheering) Greetings to you, Nigel, whose happy birthday this is.
We wish you all you wish yourself, that's money, dear, and kisses.
(Man) Yeah! (Cheering and applause) (Phones ring) - Is your name Nigel Timson? - Yes.
I'm Detective Inspector Arbuthnot.
And this is Detective Sergeant Rayner of the Fraud Squad.
I'm arresting you for offences contrary to the Companies Act.
- (Roaring laughter) - Brilliant! Here we go.
I think he's seriously serious.
Head of the Timson clan, alleged to have entered a warehouse by night? Aren't you getting on a bit for this sort of thing, Fred? It's not me I'm worried about.
It's young Nigel.
Nigel? I don't think we've met professionally.
That's cousin Andy's lad, what went into the City.
Works cheek by jowl with them lads from Eton and Harrow College.
And this prodigy's in some sort of trouble, is he? I wouldn't mind.
Drives a Porsche, girlfriend of the boss's daughter.
- What can I do to help him? - He got himself arrested.
Fraud Squad.
Ah, so he hasn't let down the honour of the Timsons after all.
You've always looked after us.
You've been good to all the family.
Yeah well, fraud isn't my favourite subject, Fred.
Had he got himself into some other difficulty, involving blood stains We've got to do our best for our Nigel.
He's the only one of the Timsons what has ever been upwardly mobile.
- (Door slams) - Rosie? - (Shouts) Where are you? - In the bath.
- What happened? - Nothing much.
Bail renewed.
I had a long talk with my father.
- And I had a long talk with daddy.
- Oh, yes? He's going to do all he can.
- He has to tell the truth as he knows it.
- Of course.
I've never even met your father.
If you're absolutely dead keen on tea with everyone in Shepherd's Bush It could be rather fun, when all of this is over.
That's what I thought.
Anyway, he's consulted his cousin Fred and there's this character who performs miracles down at the Old Bailey.
(Hilda shouts) Rumpole! (Rumpole) "'Me thought I heard a voice cry, 'Sleep no more"' Rumpole? "'Macbeth doth murder sleep, the innocent sleep, "'sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care, "'the death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, balm of hurt minds.
"' - What on earth are you doing? - Rumpole shall sleep no more.
You don't need the gas full on in March.
Oh, Hilda, there's a chill wind blowing.
Half is quite enough.
I won't have the gas be wasted now that I own it.
Oh, Hilda.
A £25 share holding doesn't give you outright possession of the North Sea.
All the same, it's the principle of the thing.
I went to the bank today, Rumpole.
Pleased to see you, were they, at the caring Bank? Mr Truscott, the manager, asked me in for a little talk.
It was not a pleasant experience.
He's not much of a conversationalist, is he, old Truscott? "We'll cash this one, but tell Mr Rumpole he's scraping the bottom of the barrel.
" Why are you scraping the bottom of the barrel? Because, Hilda, the government doesn't believe in spending out on Legal Aid.
And the time it takes for the cheques to come through is about equal to the gestation period of the giant Galapagos turtle.
And because my hard-earned cash is frittered away on things like rent and income tax, and sliced bread and washing-powder and Brillo Pads And because you don't get 100,000 pounds a case.
And Antiquax.
Who does get 100,000? Robin Peppiatt.
His fee for the Allied Chemicals negligence case is over £100,000.
Yes.
That's a civil matter, Hilda, and Peppiatt is a QC.
- Why aren't you a QC, Rumpole? - Hilda! Well, why aren't you? Phyllida Erskine-Brown's a QC.
You may not have noticed, but I bear no resemblance to Phyllida Erskine-Brown.
- In the first place I'm not a woman - I want you to pull up your socks.
And if you don't Well it's quite likely you may spend your old age alone.
- (Whispers) Promises, promises.
- What did you say? "I'd miss you, miss you, Hilda," I said.
Yes, I expect you would.
We're missing "The City Programme".
'We're still hearing a lot about crime in the City.
'What's the reason? The after effects of Big Bang? ' 'The City isn't what it was.
I'm afraid not.
' 'What do you mean, exactly? ' 'When I first joined the firm which now bears my name ' '- Japhet Jarroway? ' - 'Exactly.
' 'A stockbroker's word was his bond.
We had our rules.
'You'd no more break them than fail to offer your seat to a lady 'or eat peas with a knife.
We never heard of insider dealing.
'Why? Not because there were any laws against it, 'because it just wasn't on.
Now we have a flood of young men in the City, "'barrow boys", "spivs", I call some of them.
"'Wide boys".
No wonder you get in trouble.
- 'Thank you, Sir Christopher.
' - No, not a bit.
'That was Sir Christopher Japhet of Japhet Jarroway Stockbrokers.
' Sir Christopher.
And he looked a great deal younger than you.
You see, Craigie, I get to my office the same time as my daughter, that means I'm a Yuppy at heart.
Ha ha.
- Yes, Sir Christopher.
- Yeah.
Ha ha.
I was just saying to Craigie, I'm still a Yuppy at heart.
What's the matter, Rosie? Is it this wretched case? What did you mean about "barrow boys"? Some people in the City.
Not at Japhet's of course.
- Good morning, Sir Christopher.
- Morning, Pertwee.
- You didn't mean Nigel? - Good God, no.
As far as I'm concerned Nigel Timson's a bloody hard worker.
- I don't believe for a moment - So long as you didn't mean Nigel.
If a chap's a hard worker, I don't need to know about his family.
- You know anything about his family? - Not much.
Except there's lots and lots of them.
He's asked me to tea when this is over.
I'm sure it's perfectly all right.
I couldn't wish for a harder worker.
I want you to be happy, you know that, don't you? Your mother and I only want you to be happy.
(Sobbing) It was a famous victory, Henry.
Got Fred Timson off on the warehouse break-in.
Insufficient identification.
Oh, yeah? Justice was done, was it? - What's eating you, Henry? - Nothing, I'm reading.
- Oh, really? What's the book? - It's not a book, sir, it's a brochure.
"Come to the land of the koala bear and the kookaburra.
"Sport topless on Bondi beach, surfers' paradise.
"Watch the cricket at Melbourne, take the family to the footie.
" Do I deduce from this you are planning a holiday in the antipodes? Not a holiday, Mr Rumpole.
Besides, your con's waiting for you.
It's another Timson.
Things aren't what they were with the Big Bang, not since the market's been falling.
People are losing their jobs.
They say in order to supplement your income you did some insider dealing.
- And, of course, you know what that is.
- Of course, Mr Rumpole.
Don't you? Don't I? Know what insider dealing is? Of course I do.
Yes.
But I thought it might be better all round if you explained it in your own words.
- Explain it to you? - Yes, please.
- But you know.
- I know I know.
But the jury doesn't know I know.
How would you explain it to them? Don't the prosecution have to do that? Come on, Nigel.
We can't leave everything to the prosecution.
Well there's this little fish swimming along Little fish? A little company.
Cornucopia Preserves and Jams Ltd.
First class marmalade.
Adorns our breakfast table at Gloucester Road.
It's undervalued stock.
There's a big factory, lots of shops on street corners.
It seemed WGI was about to make a dawn raid.
- WGI? - Worldwide Groceries Incorporated.
Ah, yes, of course, dawn raid.
Puts me in mind of my old days in the RAF ground staff.
It was a takeover bid, a jump to buy the stock before anyone woke up to it.
Before it happened I'd bought £68,000 worth of Cornucopia shares for a client.
And then Cornucopia shares went soaring up.
They say you'd got to know about the dawn raid.
Yes, which was being planned where? In the Corporate Finance Department of our firm, Japhet Jarroway.
- Well then you could have - No.
It was in a different department.
- Behind a Chinese wall.
- Behind a what? Yeah, a wall of silence.
Between departments in the same building.
We call them Chinese walls.
Yes, of course, I knew that.
I just wanted to see how you'd explain it for the benefit of the jury.
Not everyone stays in their right place behind these imaginary constructions.
- Well, everyone in our firm does.
- Are you sure? You'd be out on your ear if you broke the rules.
Oh, really? Sir Christopher Japhet, our chairman, very keen on the sanctity of Chinese walls.
- Bit of a Mandarin, is he? - You could say that.
- The woman you bought the shares for? - Miss Gloag.
Yes, Miss Mabel Gloag.
- You never met her? - No.
Apparently, someone had recommended us.
She had a bit of money and I moved it about a bit for her.
She said she wanted to put her legacy, £68,000, into Cornucopia shares.
- Which you did for her? - Yes.
- I sold them, she doubled her money.
- After the takeover? What was she like? - I never met her.
- Well, you spoke to her on the phone.
She sounded rather a nice old lady.
It surprised me.
What surprised you? I suppose that she was dealing on the Stock Exchange.
Uh-huh Her cheque was sent to a Post Office Box number in Harrogate in Yorkshire.
I suppose that's where she lived.
She never gave us an address.
Presumably someone calling themselves Miss Mabel Gloag picked up her letters.
And after the transaction was completed, some anonymous well-wisher paid 20,000 smackers into your bank account in the National West Country Bank in London Walk.
- I can only think - What? That was Miss Gloag, showing her gratitude.
I never got to thank her.
- You told her where you banked? - No, that's the strange thing, no.
- I never did.
- Really? Mr Bernard, trace this Miss Mabel Gloag and get a statement out of her.
It seems you know Sir Christopher Japhet's daughter.
We've been going out together for about six months.
I suppose that means staying in together, on the Isle of Dogs? Well, yes.
We make up a Dink.
- A Dink? Do translate.
- Double Income, No Kids.
- That's what we call it.
- How quaint.
Now it seems I'm a Yid.
- Really? - Young Indictable Dealer.
It's not really very funny, is it? We've got to start learning a new language, do you realise that? You can forget about tea leaves and shooters.
We're in a strange new world of Dinks, dawn raids and Chinese walls.
Doesn't it make you a bit nostalgic for the simple old days where you just smashed a window, grabbed some loot and ran? The world's changed, God knows how we're going to get used to it.
You think I did it, don't you? That's for the jury to decide.
(Nigel) I've found it.
It was in my Filofax all the time.
- What have you found? - I remembered.
I was busy once when she rang.
She gave me a number to ring back.
- Hello.
Is that Harrogate 2751? - Whose number? Can I speak to Miss Mabel Gloag, please? Who is that please? The landlord? No, er GIoag.
G-L-O-A-G.
Mabel Gloag.
(Sighs) Well, thank you.
Who on earth have you been trying to ring? The Old Yorkshire Grey.
It's a pub in Harrogate.
It seems they've never heard of Mabel Gloag.
What's the matter with the woman? Doesn't she exist or something? (Shouts) Hilda! Good news, Hilda! No, I haven't taken silk.
But it's a money brief.
Not on Legal Aid.
A huge City scandal.
One that requires my considerable financial expertise.
They've privatised the electricity.
"To bring you to your senses, Rumpole, perhaps if I leave you alone, "you'll have time to think seriously about your career.
" Gone? Gone! "'Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care, "'balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, "'chief nourisher in life's feast.
"' (Phone rings) Hello? Yes, Rumpole speaking.
Fred Timson? Oh, I'd forgotten for a minute, you're free to make phone calls now, aren't you? Help? What, what Oh, young Nigel.
Well, that's very decent of you.
Well, we're trying to trace a woman called Miss Mabel Gloag.
She had a Post Office Box number in Harrogate, since vanished Well, Mr Bernard's doing his best.
Well, that'll be splendid.
Thank you.
All right, bye.
(Rumpole) 'Oh, Timson hath murdered sleep.
' You know, Rumpole, I've been waiting four years to join the Sheridan Club.
Isn't that rather a paltry ambition for someone who can sit through "Tannhäuser" without laughing? Phylli thinks it would help me to get on and to take silk.
Wives! They're always more ambitious for a fellow than he's ambitious for himself.
Yes.
- Ballard's threatening to blackball me.
- Why on earth? He's on the Committee.
He's going He's going to remind them of that unfortunate incident when I was photographed in "Kitten A Go Go".
But you were completely exonerated.
You'd only gone in to inspect the scene of a crime.
But Ballard says club members should be like Caesar's wife, above suspicion.
And if he decides to blackball, the others on the Committee might follow his lead.
What have we done to have Soapy Sam Ballard as Head of Chambers? I have - Well, come in, you fellows.
- We're in.
Yes, well, sit yourselves down.
- (Rumpole) Hello, dear.
- I have I have reason to believe that a crime's been committed of major proportions.
Somebody's nicked the nailbrush from the downstairs loo.
I received a fee of £50 for an opinion in a breathalyser.
I signed the receipt, of course, in the usual manner.
You come a bit cheap, as one of Her Majesty's Queen's Counsel! Do any of you remember how old Pelham Widdershins became a QC? - Please, Uncle Tom - I'll tell you.
The Lord Chancellor had two lists, one for the chaps he was gonna make QCs, and the other for those he was gonna invite for a spot of shooting.
Well, it seemed he got a bit fuddled and mixed up the two lists.
Old Pelham was absolute sudden death to a woodcock, but never dared open his mouth in court.
In spite of that, he was given a silk gown and put QC after his name, much to everyone's amazement.
I still don't understand.
Do you shoot, Ballard? Well, perhaps, Rumpole, I got silk because I don't regard the criminal law of England solely as a subject for jokes about nail brushes and such like matters.
Now, if we might return to the subject in hand.
By all means.
You were to tell us about your breathalyser.
Yes, I know, I know.
Now, I signed the receipt and gave the cheque back to Henry to bank.
That cheque, it is my painful duty to tell you, never reached the National West Country, nor have I yet received a satisfactory explanation.
- Eaten by mice.
- (Ballard) Try to take things seriously.
Maybe Rumpole's right.
There are mice in that old cupboard in the clerk's room.
I sometimes have a sneaky feeling they've been at the digestive biscuits.
Yes, yes, yes.
Now, I've told Henry, he has to give me a satisfactory explanation.
How much was it? Fifty quid? Oh, yes.
He'll retire and live on that for the rest of his life.
Come to think of it, I've seen Henry reading a brochure about Australia.
Thank you, Hoskins.
That is extremely valuable evidence.
And how do we imagine that he affords a vintage Triumph sports car? By having the intelligence to be a barrister's clerk and not a barrister.
He sits in comfort, takes 10°% of our hard-earned cash while we slog out to do breathalysers on the cheap.
And slog home on the Underground, speaking for myself.
Of course, Phylli usually has the Rover.
Oh, I agree.
Yes, and I've seen our typist - (Hoskins) Dianne.
- Dianne.
I've seen her - Dianne.
- Yes! I have seen our typist, Dianne, riding beside Henry in that, er, what you call it? Triumphant car.
With the roof open.
I understand he gives her a lift home occasionally.
No, no, no.
His marriage is on the rocks, Rumpole.
When a fellow's marriage is on the rocks he can't be trusted with a cheque.
Oh, really? How's your marriage, Ballard? You know perfectly well I'm a bachelor.
Then aren't you in the position of a life-Iong vegetarian giving us your recipe for a steak and kidney pie? Let us try to keep to the, er, matter in hand.
Is it the opinion of the meeting that I tell Henry he has to account for the missing cheque or else? - Or else what? - He must look elsewhere for a job.
I assume we want to avoid the embarrassment of a prosecution.
- I support the Head of Chambers.
- Thank you, Erskine-Brown.
I think that we in Chambers should support each other.
I shall be behind you in this, Ballard, as I expect you to be behind me in another matter.
Another matter? (Whispers) He means his membership of the Sheridan Club.
I can't promise you that, Erskine-Brown.
No.
Each case I feel must be decided strictly on its merits.
Now, all those in favour of an ultimatum to Henry? And those against? Well then, the resolution is clearly carried.
I suggest we all go home, by Underground train, as you have observed, Erskine-Brown.
Alas, my Underground train will be carrying me to a bachelor establishment in Waltham Cross.
Not all of us have been blessed with the warmth and loving companionship of married life as as you have, Rumpole.
Hello, sunshine.
Oh, blimey.
Times have changed.
Champagne on the Isle of Dogs.
You know young Nigel's dad, Andy, was born round here.
Spent his life working his way up to Shepherd's Bush.
Our young Nigel's come back to live down the East End.
Makes you laugh, don't it? Cheers, miss.
I just wanted to say that if the lad's in need of a bit of help, like someone to say he was down the Needle Arms at the time in question.
Sorry? Nigel's with his solicitor.
They're trying to find a witness, somewhere up north, Harrogate, in fact.
- A Miss Mabel Gloag.
- Gloag, you tell me? Lives in Harrogate? Here, that's Yorkshire, ain't it? My cousin Den lives up in Yorkshire.
I think he's at liberty at the moment.
Let us see what we can do.
(Horn toots) Oh, lovely views you've got up here, miss.
My cousin Cyril's lad, he's gone into the window cleaning.
You can trust him not to nick anything, seeing as you're family.
Last orders please.
Come along now, gentlemen, last orders.
It's Henry.
Henry, Henry, a last order? I'll take a gin and Dubonnet with you.
A gin Dubonnet, please, Jack, and a glass of Château Thames "Embanquement", please.
Soapy Sam Ballard, our learned Head of Chambers He thinks I've robbed him of £50, don't he? Wants me out on my ear, don't he? Well, he's welcome, that's all I can say.
He's very exceedingly welcome.
- I'm just closing.
- Yes, on the slate, Jack, please.
- Er Legal Aid cheque's in the post.
- Oh, here, have it on me.
Oh, don't worry, Mr Rumpole.
It isn't Mr Ballard's money.
He can say what he likes, Mr Ballard, 'cause if I'm sacked for thieving, Mr Rumpole, how can I face my wife and the neighbours in Bexley Bexleyheath, eh? How could my marriage possibly survive? Quite frankly a new life beckons.
- Well, wouldn't your wife stand by you? - (Jack) We're closing! My wife, Mr Rumpole, has gone into public life.
She has taken her seat on the Council.
She is Chair of the Disabled Toilets Enquiry and Chair of the Senior Citizens Equal Opportunities in Catering.
These responsibilities keep her out every evening.
- Do you know what I return home to? - No.
- I return home to a cheese on toast.
- Oh, dear me.
Have you any conceptions of what it's like to find yourself married to a Chair? You thought you were married to a woman, instead of which you find yourself tied to an article of furniture.
Oh, too true, that, Mr Rumpole.
Too very true.
- I'll tell you something else.
- Please, feel free.
Now she's active in local government, there's no stopping her getting mayor.
In due course of time, I shall serve out my year as her Lady Mayoress.
- My heart bleeds for you, Henry.
- Only one way out, frankly.
- Only one means of escape.
- What, what, what? Could my wife appear with a Mayoress sacked from his job for petty theft? That would cause some embarrassment at the ceremony.
Ah, too true, Mr Rumpole.
Too very true.
And to spare her that, I would start a new life in the Dandenong Mountains.
The State of Victoria.
There must be barristers' chambers in the "Dondenang" Mountains.
I'm not clerking any more.
- I'm gonna take up a new career.
- You don't want to be a barrister! It is my intention, sir, to go into show business.
Only much the same thing, really.
I starred in "Private Lives" opposite Miss Osgood from the Old Bailey list office.
- Something of a hit, as I remember.
- A rave notice, that's all.
Well, Dianne You know Dianne? Ah! Plucky but somewhat hit-and-miss typist.
Her cousin runs the Commonwealth Inn in the Dandenongs.
She's going as receptionist and I'll be in charge of entertainments.
- Henry, you're going to perform.
- In cabaret.
From time to time.
I might make a personal appearance.
Yes, I'm working up a nostalgia number.
Songs from the war time years, as my father used to sing them.
- (Sings) "Roll out the barrel" - Exactly so.
- "Let's have a barrel of fun.
" - Sorry, time's up, Mr Rumpole.
I tell you what dear dear old Lady Mayoress, let's have a nightcap at home.
Round yours, Mr Rumpole? Why ever not, sir? I'm leading a somewhat bachelor existence in the Gloucester Road.
- Oh, a bachelor existence, sir? - Yes.
You gentlemen get all the luck.
Do you remember this one, sir? You are my sunshine My only sunshine You make me happy When skies are blue Mind how you go now.
There you are, Henry.
We're in the dark.
And Billie Winnie shall go to sleep In his own little room again Make yourself at home, Henry.
I'll just get the bottle opener.
Take cover, Henry.
Ah! - Daddy would never have done it! - Ah, please, Hilda.
I have a long day in court coming up and I'm not feeling quite up to snuff.
- Is this coffee? - Of course, it's coffee! What have you been having for breakfast while I was away, Red Biddy? I know Pommeroys is hardly Château Latour, but to call it Red Biddy I go away to spend a few days with an old school friend - Hilda came with me.
- Just a few days with Dodo.
I think she wanted to give you time to think things over.
I come back and I find you carousing with your clerk.
- Have either of you got an aspirin? - I don't think drugs are the answer.
- Don't do it in the first place.
- No.
But if you've already done it It's so terribly important at the moment, isn't it, Hilda, that Rumpole should only do the done thing at this moment in his career? - Exactly, Dodo.
- What do you mean "Exactly, Dodo"? At what moment? Now that you've applied to the Lord Chancellor to make you a QC.
It wouldn't look quite the thing to have Rumpole QC singing with his clerk! - But I have not applied to the Lord - Oh, yes, you have, Rumpole.
I can remember last night perfectly clearly.
- I think I did not - I made the application for you.
- What! - I wrote to the Lord Chancellor.
I put that Rumpole should take his place in the front row without further delay.
Hilda, you didn't.
Someone has to take your career in hand.
Ah, for God's sake, hasn't anybody got an aspirin? Er Mr Rumpole.
You know my cousin, Dennis.
Of course.
The Pennywise Bank robbery.
Den's living up north.
He carried out a few investigations on behalf of Nigel.
I called round the Old Yorkshire Grey in Harrogate.
A mate of mine is on friendly terms with the landlord.
- We're trying to get hold of Miss Gloag.
- Right, Mabel Gloag.
Did you find her? - Quite frankly, Mr Rumpole, no.
- Thanks for trying.
The guv'nor of the Yorkshire Grey, he did say an old girl was always talking about the stocks and shares she was buying.
Apparently she used to go in there in the morning, have a Guinness or two, then use the phone to ring her stock-broker.
- A Mrs Prescott.
- Prescott.
That's not much help.
- Anything else known about her? - No, not really.
Respectable old trout, apparently.
Always talking about some City family whose children she used to nurse.
Seems that's where she got her taste for high finance.
Mrs Prescott.
Nanny Prescott.
- Is she still about? - No, he hasn't seen her in three months.
I wonder - The judge is coming, Mr Rumpole.
- Yes.
(Whispers) Better get to work.
Yeah, er sorry I couldn't be more help, Mr Rumpole.
(Mouthing) Yes, Mr Hector Vellacott? What the Crown says is this, having got hold of the secret information that Cornucopia Jams were about to be taken over by Worldwide Groceries, this young man, Nigel Timson, bought no less than £68,000 worth of Cornucopia shares.
When the takeover bid was completed, those shares doubled their value.
I say he bought them, members of the jury.
He may to tell you that he bought them for a client, a Miss Mabel Gloag.
Who is this Miss Mabel Gloag, you may well ask.
Nanny Prescott.
It's just not possible.
- Why did you say that? - What? - Nanny Prescott.
- Why, do you know her? That was the name of our old nanny.
Years ago, when we were kids.
- Mrs Prescott.
- Er Did she have a Christian name, by any chance? Maybee, that's what we used to call her.
Maybee, Mabel.
Look, if you had a look, do you think you could dig out a photograph of this queen of the nursery? - Mr Rumpole.
- My Lord? It's customary for Counsel and solicitors to discuss their cases before coming into court, not during the opening speech for the prosecution.
Yes, thank you, My Lord, Oh, is my learned friend still opening? Fascinating stuff, of course.
- I shall be all attention.
- Yes! Mr Vellacott.
The sum of £20,000 was paid into the defendant's bank account when the transaction was completed.
Can you doubt, members of the jury, that this was the defendant's first dip into his ill-gotten gains? No doubt spent on his champagne and his Porsche motorcar My Lord, I object.
What this man chooses to drink is entirely irrelevant.
Mr Vellacott, will there be any evidence as to the defendant's earnings? In a good year with bonuses, about 70,000.
- Sir Christopher Japhet's evidence.
- Good God.
That's more than More than an Old Bailey judge earns, was your Honour about to say? - (Laughter) - Silence! It's a considerable sum of money, particularly if it's added to by the proceeds of illegal dealings.
- Yes, Mr Vellacott? - My Lord, I call Mr Shillingford.
Now's a good time to duck out.
(Usher) Mr Hugo Shillingford.
Thank you.
Just wait there, will you, Mr Shillingford.
Mr Shillingford, you said you were not a close friend of Nigel Timson? Well, I mean, we never went to school together.
He went to Wapping Comprehensive and the Shepherd's Bush market.
He gained his financial expertise fixing the price of Cox's Orange Pippins.
Isn't he what you young gentlemen of the City would call a "barrow boy", as distinct from a Harrow boy? I didn't know all that about Nigel.
But you knew he hadn't gone to a public school? Yes, I knew that.
Now (Coughs) When he said he'd made a killing on Cornucopia shares, did he not also add the words "For some little old lady in Harrogate"? - I didn't hear that.
- You didn't hear him say that? What What were you celebrating in the wine bar? - Was it your birthday on that occasion? - Yes it was, now I come to think of it.
And were you occupied doing some juggling? Occupied doing some what, Mr Rumpole? Juggling with a couple of champagne glasses and a bottle of Dom Pérignon.
- Juggling with Dom Pérignon? - As a matter of fact I was.
I rather think I dropped it.
Ah yes! And at that tragic moment, might Nigel Timson not have mentioned the old lady when you weren't listening? Yes.
Yes, I suppose he might.
Thank you.
Now one other matter.
Haven't there been suspicions of previous insider dealings at your firm? This can't be relevant.
Whether it is or not, it can't possibly help your client, Mr Rumpole.
We have seen DI Arbuthnot's statement about previous suspect deals.
I have no intention of putting in that evidence in fairness to the accused.
In fairness to the accused I would like an answer to the question.
What is it, Mr Shillingford? There was a lot of talk, yes, that someone had used information from the Finance Department to buy shares.
- Thank you, much obliged.
- "Someone used information" Mmm.
- Sir Christopher Japhet.
- Yes? This way, sir.
- You don't like barrow boys, do you? - Excuse me? I don't think the witness understands that question better than I do.
Your Lordship is quite wrong about that.
Sir Christopher understands me very well.
You did an interview on television for "The City Programme", didn't you? Yes, I did.
You said the crime wave in the City was due to the number of barrow boys that have got into the Stock Exchange.
I said the traditions of a gentleman's word being his bond had died out.
- I regret it.
- I'm sure we all regret it, sir.
The standard of gentlemanly behaviour is declining.
Even in the legal profession.
Yes, Mr Rumpole? Nigel Timson came to you as an office boy.
I believe so.
And he obtained his present position by honest hard work.
I believe he was honest to start with.
- Got to know your daughter rather well.
- They became quite friendly, yes.
Don't let's mince matters.
They live together in a fashionable address on the Isle of Dogs? - Really, Mr Rumpole! - Well, what's the answer, sir? Has your client instructed you to attack the honour of this gentleman's daughter? My client's honour has been attacked.
He is accused of being dishonest.
What on earth can his relations with Miss Japhet possibly have to do with it? - My Lord, may I make a suggestion? - What is it? That your Lordship sits quietly and allows me to develop the defence? Whether I succeed or not will be entirely a matter for the jury.
- If your Lordship pleases.
- Well, perhaps I can help.
My daughter and Nigel Timson are living together, yes.
Thank you, sir.
That's the frankness I would expect from you.
Now, perhaps we can pass to something relevant.
Oh, certainly.
Have you found out much about Nigel Timson's family? I made certain enquiries.
Have you discovered that several clan members have had more convictions than we've had hot dinners? (Loud laughter) (Usher) Silence! (Judge) Mr Rumpole.
Has this led you to view young Nigel Timson with disfavour? I only want my daughter to be happy.
But you don't want her to marry a barrow boy.
I'd rather my daughter not marry into the Timson's family.
- If I have to be honest.
- Yes, sir.
You have to be honest.
And is that why you are giving evidence against him on this vague charge of insider dealing? I have given evidence because it is the truth! (Judge) "It is the truth.
" - Have you any more questions? - Just a few, my Lord.
Get the clerk down to the National Registry.
Ask for the marriage certificate of Mrs Mabel Prescott, née Gloag.
Prescott.
Sir Christopher, have there been suspicions of previous insider dealing in your firm prior to the Cornucopia takeover? - Unfortunately, yes.
- Yes.
Might not the person responsible for that have wanted to put the blame on this young barrow boy, Nigel Timson? - I suppose anything's possible.
- Yes.
Isn't it possible that this person could have instructed a Miss Gloag to order her Cornucopia shares through Nigel Timson, provided of course that that person knew that the shares would rise? I've said it's possible.
And to make matters even worse for Nigel Timson, might that person not have paid £20,000 into his bank account anonymously? He must have been a very generous someone indeed.
Oh, do you really think so, out of a profit of 68,000? You are suggesting that this person was responsible for the previous insider deals? That is precisely what I am suggesting, Sir Christopher.
Do you have a bank account in the Cayman Islands? Have you forgotten how many bank accounts you've accumulated? I have a small bank account in the Cayman Islands, yes.
Yes, at the er the Transworld Archipelago Bank? - I believe that's what the bank is called.
- You believe that that's what it's called.
My Lord, we shall present evidence that the source of the £20,000 was a bank in the Cayman Islands, the Transworld Archipelago.
Your daughter, Rose, a well brought-up girl I've no doubt? Yes, I hope so.
And her formative years were presided over by a devoted nursemaid? - We had a nanny, yes.
- Nanny Prescott? - Do you believe that was her name? - That was her name, yes.
Is that photograph of Nanny Mabel Prescott? Yes, it is.
That's Mrs Prescott with my daughter, yes.
- Can you tell us where she is now? - I'm afraid I can't recall.
She has a son in Australia, perhaps she's gone out there.
Oh, how very convenient.
We have heard that she had a Post Office Box number in Harrogate.
- Did you know she lived there? - I heard about a family in Harrogate.
Mr Rumpole, may I ask where these questions are leading? - I hope, My Lord, to the truth.
- Which is? Which is, My Lord, that you, Sir Christopher, got your old servant, using her maiden name of Gloag, to order the Cornucopia shares through Nigel Timson.
That you paid the £20,000 into his bank account, and you did all that to cover up your own insider dealing.
A brilliant idea, was it not, to blame it all on one of these unspeakable barrow boys that have let down the honourable traditions of you old City gents.
- What's your answer, sir? - What an outrageous suggestion! "Absolutely outrageous" (Inaudible whispering) May I reserve the rest of my cross-examination until tomorrow? What's your reason for that, Mr Rumpole? (Rumpole) 'In the hope of collecting some evidence 'to back up the outrageous suggestion.
' - Well? - In consideration of the witness.
- Sir Christopher may be feeling tired.
- Yes.
Excellent idea.
Shall we say 10:30 tomorrow morning, Sir Christopher? (Henry) Oh, Mr Rumpole.
We've had the Lord Chancellor's office on the phone to Chambers.
- Old Keith? - Yeah.
He wants you to meet him for a drink at the Sheridan Club.
Old Keith from the Chancellor's office.
Oh, my ears and whiskers.
I thought a drink at my club might be the best way to get over this situation.
Yes, well, here's mud in your eye er, sir.
Thank you.
The Lord Chancellor has received an awkward letter from Mrs Rumpole.
Ah, yes, and Mrs Rumpole can be awkward.
She actually suggested that we give you silk.
The Lord Chancellor was deeply embarrassed by it.
Sorry.
Made him squirm around on the woolsack, did it? Some men are natural juniors, Rumpole, experienced men, highly experienced.
The good old non-commissioned officers of the Bailey.
Absolutely no criticism of you, of course, but Well, at your age, you know, and given your type of practice, silk really is out of the question.
Rumpole QC.
It just can't be done.
- Oh, well.
- So, you'll break it to your wife? I know she'll be disappointed.
Her father didn't get silk either.
Old Wystan never quite made it.
Battling down the Bailey now, are you? Oh, yes, a big City fraud, a bit of insider dealing.
Jolly good show.
You'll want to be getting along home then.
Carry on, Sergeant Rumpole.
- Ah, Rumpole.
- Ah, Ballard.
What a pleasant surprise.
Allow me to buy you a drink.
- What's it to be, a claret? - A large claret.
A large claret, of course.
George, a large claret and small Perrier water.
You're moving in elevated circles, aren't you? Old Keith from the Lord Chancellor's Office? - Oh, old Keith, yes.
- Yes, yes.
Ha ha! Keith mention me at all? Ah, you want to know what Keith said about you? - Thanks.
How much is that? - Three pound fifty.
Three pound fif! Er, three pound fifty, yes.
Er here, there's five pounds.
Thank you.
So what did Keith have to say about me? Keith said absolutely nothing about you, Ballard.
A cheque for £50 on Snaresbrook and Higgs.
Was that for the breathalyser you accused Henry of nicking? You erm I I must have put it in here and and forgotten about it, of course.
I'II I'll tell Henry.
Accusing your faithful clerk of stealing.
I wonder what the Sheridan Club Committee would say about that? If I were you, I wouldn't ask anyone to blackball Claude Erskine-Brown.
No.
No, of course not.
No, I've always thought Claude would make a pretty good member here.
Yes, he might liven the place up a bit.
Bring on the dancing girls.
Er, Rumpole.
Rumpole! - Yes? - Might I have a word in your shell-like? (Whispers) In truth, we can't find Sir Christopher Japhet.
Oh, you do astonish me.
Have you tried the Grand Cayman? Maybe he's turned himself into an off-shore island.
Inspector Arbuthnot seems to think he's bunked off the country.
- Yes.
- Too quick for us, I'm afraid.
We can't go on against Timson.
The judge is not going to like it.
Don't worry about him.
The shock will bring him back to life.
It seems that Sir Christopher has absconded, old dear.
And the prosecution's collapsed.
- Oh, yes.
Nigel, my son.
That's it.
- Yeah? He's done it.
He's done a runner, ain't he? Thank you.
Thank you.
- Rosie your father - I know.
He's gone.
You did it to him, didn't you? You and that barrister.
All your family out of various jails.
- (Sighs) Rosie, come back.
- Leave me alone! Barrow boy! Dianne, we've been through this a thousand times! (Sobs) Well, you've done it now, Mr Rumpole.
Yes, Henry, another famous victory.
Chief witness against me made a dash for the airport.
Prosecution up an embarrassing creek without a paddle.
No, no, no.
I mean you've done me in.
You've only ruined my life, that's all.
But, Henry, don't you know? Ballard's found the cheque.
It's good news.
Hasn't he apologised? You found the cheque in his wallet.
You made him apologise.
Where does that leave me? Where leaves you? What do you mean? Lady Mayoress.
I've got no way out now.
- Oh, Henry.
- I won't have to leave the country.
I can't take up a new career in show business in the Dandenong Mountains.
Dianne and I won't be travelling to the Southern Hemisphere now.
I'm stuck for the rest of my life in Bexleyheath, married to a Chair.
Henry, I'm sorry.
Perhaps you'd be so kind as to leave me now, Mr Rumpole.
I wish to be alone with my dreams, what little is left of them.
Oh, by the way, Hilda, I, er ahem! I had a little chat today with old Keith from the Lord Chancellor's office.
- He asked me for a drink in his club.
- He didn't.
Oh, yes, we had a little chat in the Sheridan.
And what is it now, Rumpole QC? Ah, no, Hilda.
I'm afraid not.
- Not? - No.
But he was talking about your learned father, old CH Wystan.
The man from the Lord Chancellor's office was talking about daddy? Yes, at some length.
Saying what a brilliant lawyer he was.
They were gonna make him a QC, you know.
- Daddy, QC? - Exactly.
But then he went off to a higher court as old Keith put it.
The Great Appeals Court in the sky.
- Daddy died.
- Sadly, yes.
And of course as old CH Wystan had missed it they could hardly give it to a mere son-in-law, could they? There's some rule about there being too many QCs in the one family.
Yes.
Yes, I do understand, Rumpole.
After daddy, it would be a bit of a comedown to give it to you.
Er, yes.
But the Lord Chancellor sent his love from the woolsack, and said you needn't trouble to write again.
How very kind of him.
Such a charming man.
Very good legs, I always think, in breeches.
Rumpole, are you feeling a little bit chilly? Would you like another bar or two of the fire on? Oh, good heavens, we're missing "The City Programme".
I was thinking of buying British Airways.
'The sudden disappearance of Sir Christopher Japhet 'in the middle of the Old Bailey insider dealing trial 'is likely to cause nervousness on the London market, 'and a shudder in the Dow-Jones.
' "'Hilda hath murdered sleep "'and therefore Rumpole shall sleep no more"' (TV) 'Maecenas Holdings are planning a bid for British prisons 'when they're privatised.
'
To Nigel Timson, a bull birthday and a bear mark! And let's hope he rallies in late trading, Rosie! Don't drift downwards with the Nikkei Dow.
- Keep up with the plucky little pound! - Nothing wrong with the dear old pound.
- Happy birthday, darling.
- Oh, what is it? A little token of appreciation from the Chairman's daughter, for six months of dedicated service.
- (Laughter) - That's where the dollar got to! One more thing (Cheering) Greetings to you, Nigel, whose happy birthday this is.
We wish you all you wish yourself, that's money, dear, and kisses.
(Man) Yeah! (Cheering and applause) (Phones ring) - Is your name Nigel Timson? - Yes.
I'm Detective Inspector Arbuthnot.
And this is Detective Sergeant Rayner of the Fraud Squad.
I'm arresting you for offences contrary to the Companies Act.
- (Roaring laughter) - Brilliant! Here we go.
I think he's seriously serious.
Head of the Timson clan, alleged to have entered a warehouse by night? Aren't you getting on a bit for this sort of thing, Fred? It's not me I'm worried about.
It's young Nigel.
Nigel? I don't think we've met professionally.
That's cousin Andy's lad, what went into the City.
Works cheek by jowl with them lads from Eton and Harrow College.
And this prodigy's in some sort of trouble, is he? I wouldn't mind.
Drives a Porsche, girlfriend of the boss's daughter.
- What can I do to help him? - He got himself arrested.
Fraud Squad.
Ah, so he hasn't let down the honour of the Timsons after all.
You've always looked after us.
You've been good to all the family.
Yeah well, fraud isn't my favourite subject, Fred.
Had he got himself into some other difficulty, involving blood stains We've got to do our best for our Nigel.
He's the only one of the Timsons what has ever been upwardly mobile.
- (Door slams) - Rosie? - (Shouts) Where are you? - In the bath.
- What happened? - Nothing much.
Bail renewed.
I had a long talk with my father.
- And I had a long talk with daddy.
- Oh, yes? He's going to do all he can.
- He has to tell the truth as he knows it.
- Of course.
I've never even met your father.
If you're absolutely dead keen on tea with everyone in Shepherd's Bush It could be rather fun, when all of this is over.
That's what I thought.
Anyway, he's consulted his cousin Fred and there's this character who performs miracles down at the Old Bailey.
(Hilda shouts) Rumpole! (Rumpole) "'Me thought I heard a voice cry, 'Sleep no more"' Rumpole? "'Macbeth doth murder sleep, the innocent sleep, "'sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care, "'the death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, balm of hurt minds.
"' - What on earth are you doing? - Rumpole shall sleep no more.
You don't need the gas full on in March.
Oh, Hilda, there's a chill wind blowing.
Half is quite enough.
I won't have the gas be wasted now that I own it.
Oh, Hilda.
A £25 share holding doesn't give you outright possession of the North Sea.
All the same, it's the principle of the thing.
I went to the bank today, Rumpole.
Pleased to see you, were they, at the caring Bank? Mr Truscott, the manager, asked me in for a little talk.
It was not a pleasant experience.
He's not much of a conversationalist, is he, old Truscott? "We'll cash this one, but tell Mr Rumpole he's scraping the bottom of the barrel.
" Why are you scraping the bottom of the barrel? Because, Hilda, the government doesn't believe in spending out on Legal Aid.
And the time it takes for the cheques to come through is about equal to the gestation period of the giant Galapagos turtle.
And because my hard-earned cash is frittered away on things like rent and income tax, and sliced bread and washing-powder and Brillo Pads And because you don't get 100,000 pounds a case.
And Antiquax.
Who does get 100,000? Robin Peppiatt.
His fee for the Allied Chemicals negligence case is over £100,000.
Yes.
That's a civil matter, Hilda, and Peppiatt is a QC.
- Why aren't you a QC, Rumpole? - Hilda! Well, why aren't you? Phyllida Erskine-Brown's a QC.
You may not have noticed, but I bear no resemblance to Phyllida Erskine-Brown.
- In the first place I'm not a woman - I want you to pull up your socks.
And if you don't Well it's quite likely you may spend your old age alone.
- (Whispers) Promises, promises.
- What did you say? "I'd miss you, miss you, Hilda," I said.
Yes, I expect you would.
We're missing "The City Programme".
'We're still hearing a lot about crime in the City.
'What's the reason? The after effects of Big Bang? ' 'The City isn't what it was.
I'm afraid not.
' 'What do you mean, exactly? ' 'When I first joined the firm which now bears my name ' '- Japhet Jarroway? ' - 'Exactly.
' 'A stockbroker's word was his bond.
We had our rules.
'You'd no more break them than fail to offer your seat to a lady 'or eat peas with a knife.
We never heard of insider dealing.
'Why? Not because there were any laws against it, 'because it just wasn't on.
Now we have a flood of young men in the City, "'barrow boys", "spivs", I call some of them.
"'Wide boys".
No wonder you get in trouble.
- 'Thank you, Sir Christopher.
' - No, not a bit.
'That was Sir Christopher Japhet of Japhet Jarroway Stockbrokers.
' Sir Christopher.
And he looked a great deal younger than you.
You see, Craigie, I get to my office the same time as my daughter, that means I'm a Yuppy at heart.
Ha ha.
- Yes, Sir Christopher.
- Yeah.
Ha ha.
I was just saying to Craigie, I'm still a Yuppy at heart.
What's the matter, Rosie? Is it this wretched case? What did you mean about "barrow boys"? Some people in the City.
Not at Japhet's of course.
- Good morning, Sir Christopher.
- Morning, Pertwee.
- You didn't mean Nigel? - Good God, no.
As far as I'm concerned Nigel Timson's a bloody hard worker.
- I don't believe for a moment - So long as you didn't mean Nigel.
If a chap's a hard worker, I don't need to know about his family.
- You know anything about his family? - Not much.
Except there's lots and lots of them.
He's asked me to tea when this is over.
I'm sure it's perfectly all right.
I couldn't wish for a harder worker.
I want you to be happy, you know that, don't you? Your mother and I only want you to be happy.
(Sobbing) It was a famous victory, Henry.
Got Fred Timson off on the warehouse break-in.
Insufficient identification.
Oh, yeah? Justice was done, was it? - What's eating you, Henry? - Nothing, I'm reading.
- Oh, really? What's the book? - It's not a book, sir, it's a brochure.
"Come to the land of the koala bear and the kookaburra.
"Sport topless on Bondi beach, surfers' paradise.
"Watch the cricket at Melbourne, take the family to the footie.
" Do I deduce from this you are planning a holiday in the antipodes? Not a holiday, Mr Rumpole.
Besides, your con's waiting for you.
It's another Timson.
Things aren't what they were with the Big Bang, not since the market's been falling.
People are losing their jobs.
They say in order to supplement your income you did some insider dealing.
- And, of course, you know what that is.
- Of course, Mr Rumpole.
Don't you? Don't I? Know what insider dealing is? Of course I do.
Yes.
But I thought it might be better all round if you explained it in your own words.
- Explain it to you? - Yes, please.
- But you know.
- I know I know.
But the jury doesn't know I know.
How would you explain it to them? Don't the prosecution have to do that? Come on, Nigel.
We can't leave everything to the prosecution.
Well there's this little fish swimming along Little fish? A little company.
Cornucopia Preserves and Jams Ltd.
First class marmalade.
Adorns our breakfast table at Gloucester Road.
It's undervalued stock.
There's a big factory, lots of shops on street corners.
It seemed WGI was about to make a dawn raid.
- WGI? - Worldwide Groceries Incorporated.
Ah, yes, of course, dawn raid.
Puts me in mind of my old days in the RAF ground staff.
It was a takeover bid, a jump to buy the stock before anyone woke up to it.
Before it happened I'd bought £68,000 worth of Cornucopia shares for a client.
And then Cornucopia shares went soaring up.
They say you'd got to know about the dawn raid.
Yes, which was being planned where? In the Corporate Finance Department of our firm, Japhet Jarroway.
- Well then you could have - No.
It was in a different department.
- Behind a Chinese wall.
- Behind a what? Yeah, a wall of silence.
Between departments in the same building.
We call them Chinese walls.
Yes, of course, I knew that.
I just wanted to see how you'd explain it for the benefit of the jury.
Not everyone stays in their right place behind these imaginary constructions.
- Well, everyone in our firm does.
- Are you sure? You'd be out on your ear if you broke the rules.
Oh, really? Sir Christopher Japhet, our chairman, very keen on the sanctity of Chinese walls.
- Bit of a Mandarin, is he? - You could say that.
- The woman you bought the shares for? - Miss Gloag.
Yes, Miss Mabel Gloag.
- You never met her? - No.
Apparently, someone had recommended us.
She had a bit of money and I moved it about a bit for her.
She said she wanted to put her legacy, £68,000, into Cornucopia shares.
- Which you did for her? - Yes.
- I sold them, she doubled her money.
- After the takeover? What was she like? - I never met her.
- Well, you spoke to her on the phone.
She sounded rather a nice old lady.
It surprised me.
What surprised you? I suppose that she was dealing on the Stock Exchange.
Uh-huh Her cheque was sent to a Post Office Box number in Harrogate in Yorkshire.
I suppose that's where she lived.
She never gave us an address.
Presumably someone calling themselves Miss Mabel Gloag picked up her letters.
And after the transaction was completed, some anonymous well-wisher paid 20,000 smackers into your bank account in the National West Country Bank in London Walk.
- I can only think - What? That was Miss Gloag, showing her gratitude.
I never got to thank her.
- You told her where you banked? - No, that's the strange thing, no.
- I never did.
- Really? Mr Bernard, trace this Miss Mabel Gloag and get a statement out of her.
It seems you know Sir Christopher Japhet's daughter.
We've been going out together for about six months.
I suppose that means staying in together, on the Isle of Dogs? Well, yes.
We make up a Dink.
- A Dink? Do translate.
- Double Income, No Kids.
- That's what we call it.
- How quaint.
Now it seems I'm a Yid.
- Really? - Young Indictable Dealer.
It's not really very funny, is it? We've got to start learning a new language, do you realise that? You can forget about tea leaves and shooters.
We're in a strange new world of Dinks, dawn raids and Chinese walls.
Doesn't it make you a bit nostalgic for the simple old days where you just smashed a window, grabbed some loot and ran? The world's changed, God knows how we're going to get used to it.
You think I did it, don't you? That's for the jury to decide.
(Nigel) I've found it.
It was in my Filofax all the time.
- What have you found? - I remembered.
I was busy once when she rang.
She gave me a number to ring back.
- Hello.
Is that Harrogate 2751? - Whose number? Can I speak to Miss Mabel Gloag, please? Who is that please? The landlord? No, er GIoag.
G-L-O-A-G.
Mabel Gloag.
(Sighs) Well, thank you.
Who on earth have you been trying to ring? The Old Yorkshire Grey.
It's a pub in Harrogate.
It seems they've never heard of Mabel Gloag.
What's the matter with the woman? Doesn't she exist or something? (Shouts) Hilda! Good news, Hilda! No, I haven't taken silk.
But it's a money brief.
Not on Legal Aid.
A huge City scandal.
One that requires my considerable financial expertise.
They've privatised the electricity.
"To bring you to your senses, Rumpole, perhaps if I leave you alone, "you'll have time to think seriously about your career.
" Gone? Gone! "'Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care, "'balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, "'chief nourisher in life's feast.
"' (Phone rings) Hello? Yes, Rumpole speaking.
Fred Timson? Oh, I'd forgotten for a minute, you're free to make phone calls now, aren't you? Help? What, what Oh, young Nigel.
Well, that's very decent of you.
Well, we're trying to trace a woman called Miss Mabel Gloag.
She had a Post Office Box number in Harrogate, since vanished Well, Mr Bernard's doing his best.
Well, that'll be splendid.
Thank you.
All right, bye.
(Rumpole) 'Oh, Timson hath murdered sleep.
' You know, Rumpole, I've been waiting four years to join the Sheridan Club.
Isn't that rather a paltry ambition for someone who can sit through "Tannhäuser" without laughing? Phylli thinks it would help me to get on and to take silk.
Wives! They're always more ambitious for a fellow than he's ambitious for himself.
Yes.
- Ballard's threatening to blackball me.
- Why on earth? He's on the Committee.
He's going He's going to remind them of that unfortunate incident when I was photographed in "Kitten A Go Go".
But you were completely exonerated.
You'd only gone in to inspect the scene of a crime.
But Ballard says club members should be like Caesar's wife, above suspicion.
And if he decides to blackball, the others on the Committee might follow his lead.
What have we done to have Soapy Sam Ballard as Head of Chambers? I have - Well, come in, you fellows.
- We're in.
Yes, well, sit yourselves down.
- (Rumpole) Hello, dear.
- I have I have reason to believe that a crime's been committed of major proportions.
Somebody's nicked the nailbrush from the downstairs loo.
I received a fee of £50 for an opinion in a breathalyser.
I signed the receipt, of course, in the usual manner.
You come a bit cheap, as one of Her Majesty's Queen's Counsel! Do any of you remember how old Pelham Widdershins became a QC? - Please, Uncle Tom - I'll tell you.
The Lord Chancellor had two lists, one for the chaps he was gonna make QCs, and the other for those he was gonna invite for a spot of shooting.
Well, it seemed he got a bit fuddled and mixed up the two lists.
Old Pelham was absolute sudden death to a woodcock, but never dared open his mouth in court.
In spite of that, he was given a silk gown and put QC after his name, much to everyone's amazement.
I still don't understand.
Do you shoot, Ballard? Well, perhaps, Rumpole, I got silk because I don't regard the criminal law of England solely as a subject for jokes about nail brushes and such like matters.
Now, if we might return to the subject in hand.
By all means.
You were to tell us about your breathalyser.
Yes, I know, I know.
Now, I signed the receipt and gave the cheque back to Henry to bank.
That cheque, it is my painful duty to tell you, never reached the National West Country, nor have I yet received a satisfactory explanation.
- Eaten by mice.
- (Ballard) Try to take things seriously.
Maybe Rumpole's right.
There are mice in that old cupboard in the clerk's room.
I sometimes have a sneaky feeling they've been at the digestive biscuits.
Yes, yes, yes.
Now, I've told Henry, he has to give me a satisfactory explanation.
How much was it? Fifty quid? Oh, yes.
He'll retire and live on that for the rest of his life.
Come to think of it, I've seen Henry reading a brochure about Australia.
Thank you, Hoskins.
That is extremely valuable evidence.
And how do we imagine that he affords a vintage Triumph sports car? By having the intelligence to be a barrister's clerk and not a barrister.
He sits in comfort, takes 10°% of our hard-earned cash while we slog out to do breathalysers on the cheap.
And slog home on the Underground, speaking for myself.
Of course, Phylli usually has the Rover.
Oh, I agree.
Yes, and I've seen our typist - (Hoskins) Dianne.
- Dianne.
I've seen her - Dianne.
- Yes! I have seen our typist, Dianne, riding beside Henry in that, er, what you call it? Triumphant car.
With the roof open.
I understand he gives her a lift home occasionally.
No, no, no.
His marriage is on the rocks, Rumpole.
When a fellow's marriage is on the rocks he can't be trusted with a cheque.
Oh, really? How's your marriage, Ballard? You know perfectly well I'm a bachelor.
Then aren't you in the position of a life-Iong vegetarian giving us your recipe for a steak and kidney pie? Let us try to keep to the, er, matter in hand.
Is it the opinion of the meeting that I tell Henry he has to account for the missing cheque or else? - Or else what? - He must look elsewhere for a job.
I assume we want to avoid the embarrassment of a prosecution.
- I support the Head of Chambers.
- Thank you, Erskine-Brown.
I think that we in Chambers should support each other.
I shall be behind you in this, Ballard, as I expect you to be behind me in another matter.
Another matter? (Whispers) He means his membership of the Sheridan Club.
I can't promise you that, Erskine-Brown.
No.
Each case I feel must be decided strictly on its merits.
Now, all those in favour of an ultimatum to Henry? And those against? Well then, the resolution is clearly carried.
I suggest we all go home, by Underground train, as you have observed, Erskine-Brown.
Alas, my Underground train will be carrying me to a bachelor establishment in Waltham Cross.
Not all of us have been blessed with the warmth and loving companionship of married life as as you have, Rumpole.
Hello, sunshine.
Oh, blimey.
Times have changed.
Champagne on the Isle of Dogs.
You know young Nigel's dad, Andy, was born round here.
Spent his life working his way up to Shepherd's Bush.
Our young Nigel's come back to live down the East End.
Makes you laugh, don't it? Cheers, miss.
I just wanted to say that if the lad's in need of a bit of help, like someone to say he was down the Needle Arms at the time in question.
Sorry? Nigel's with his solicitor.
They're trying to find a witness, somewhere up north, Harrogate, in fact.
- A Miss Mabel Gloag.
- Gloag, you tell me? Lives in Harrogate? Here, that's Yorkshire, ain't it? My cousin Den lives up in Yorkshire.
I think he's at liberty at the moment.
Let us see what we can do.
(Horn toots) Oh, lovely views you've got up here, miss.
My cousin Cyril's lad, he's gone into the window cleaning.
You can trust him not to nick anything, seeing as you're family.
Last orders please.
Come along now, gentlemen, last orders.
It's Henry.
Henry, Henry, a last order? I'll take a gin and Dubonnet with you.
A gin Dubonnet, please, Jack, and a glass of Château Thames "Embanquement", please.
Soapy Sam Ballard, our learned Head of Chambers He thinks I've robbed him of £50, don't he? Wants me out on my ear, don't he? Well, he's welcome, that's all I can say.
He's very exceedingly welcome.
- I'm just closing.
- Yes, on the slate, Jack, please.
- Er Legal Aid cheque's in the post.
- Oh, here, have it on me.
Oh, don't worry, Mr Rumpole.
It isn't Mr Ballard's money.
He can say what he likes, Mr Ballard, 'cause if I'm sacked for thieving, Mr Rumpole, how can I face my wife and the neighbours in Bexley Bexleyheath, eh? How could my marriage possibly survive? Quite frankly a new life beckons.
- Well, wouldn't your wife stand by you? - (Jack) We're closing! My wife, Mr Rumpole, has gone into public life.
She has taken her seat on the Council.
She is Chair of the Disabled Toilets Enquiry and Chair of the Senior Citizens Equal Opportunities in Catering.
These responsibilities keep her out every evening.
- Do you know what I return home to? - No.
- I return home to a cheese on toast.
- Oh, dear me.
Have you any conceptions of what it's like to find yourself married to a Chair? You thought you were married to a woman, instead of which you find yourself tied to an article of furniture.
Oh, too true, that, Mr Rumpole.
Too very true.
- I'll tell you something else.
- Please, feel free.
Now she's active in local government, there's no stopping her getting mayor.
In due course of time, I shall serve out my year as her Lady Mayoress.
- My heart bleeds for you, Henry.
- Only one way out, frankly.
- Only one means of escape.
- What, what, what? Could my wife appear with a Mayoress sacked from his job for petty theft? That would cause some embarrassment at the ceremony.
Ah, too true, Mr Rumpole.
Too very true.
And to spare her that, I would start a new life in the Dandenong Mountains.
The State of Victoria.
There must be barristers' chambers in the "Dondenang" Mountains.
I'm not clerking any more.
- I'm gonna take up a new career.
- You don't want to be a barrister! It is my intention, sir, to go into show business.
Only much the same thing, really.
I starred in "Private Lives" opposite Miss Osgood from the Old Bailey list office.
- Something of a hit, as I remember.
- A rave notice, that's all.
Well, Dianne You know Dianne? Ah! Plucky but somewhat hit-and-miss typist.
Her cousin runs the Commonwealth Inn in the Dandenongs.
She's going as receptionist and I'll be in charge of entertainments.
- Henry, you're going to perform.
- In cabaret.
From time to time.
I might make a personal appearance.
Yes, I'm working up a nostalgia number.
Songs from the war time years, as my father used to sing them.
- (Sings) "Roll out the barrel" - Exactly so.
- "Let's have a barrel of fun.
" - Sorry, time's up, Mr Rumpole.
I tell you what dear dear old Lady Mayoress, let's have a nightcap at home.
Round yours, Mr Rumpole? Why ever not, sir? I'm leading a somewhat bachelor existence in the Gloucester Road.
- Oh, a bachelor existence, sir? - Yes.
You gentlemen get all the luck.
Do you remember this one, sir? You are my sunshine My only sunshine You make me happy When skies are blue Mind how you go now.
There you are, Henry.
We're in the dark.
And Billie Winnie shall go to sleep In his own little room again Make yourself at home, Henry.
I'll just get the bottle opener.
Take cover, Henry.
Ah! - Daddy would never have done it! - Ah, please, Hilda.
I have a long day in court coming up and I'm not feeling quite up to snuff.
- Is this coffee? - Of course, it's coffee! What have you been having for breakfast while I was away, Red Biddy? I know Pommeroys is hardly Château Latour, but to call it Red Biddy I go away to spend a few days with an old school friend - Hilda came with me.
- Just a few days with Dodo.
I think she wanted to give you time to think things over.
I come back and I find you carousing with your clerk.
- Have either of you got an aspirin? - I don't think drugs are the answer.
- Don't do it in the first place.
- No.
But if you've already done it It's so terribly important at the moment, isn't it, Hilda, that Rumpole should only do the done thing at this moment in his career? - Exactly, Dodo.
- What do you mean "Exactly, Dodo"? At what moment? Now that you've applied to the Lord Chancellor to make you a QC.
It wouldn't look quite the thing to have Rumpole QC singing with his clerk! - But I have not applied to the Lord - Oh, yes, you have, Rumpole.
I can remember last night perfectly clearly.
- I think I did not - I made the application for you.
- What! - I wrote to the Lord Chancellor.
I put that Rumpole should take his place in the front row without further delay.
Hilda, you didn't.
Someone has to take your career in hand.
Ah, for God's sake, hasn't anybody got an aspirin? Er Mr Rumpole.
You know my cousin, Dennis.
Of course.
The Pennywise Bank robbery.
Den's living up north.
He carried out a few investigations on behalf of Nigel.
I called round the Old Yorkshire Grey in Harrogate.
A mate of mine is on friendly terms with the landlord.
- We're trying to get hold of Miss Gloag.
- Right, Mabel Gloag.
Did you find her? - Quite frankly, Mr Rumpole, no.
- Thanks for trying.
The guv'nor of the Yorkshire Grey, he did say an old girl was always talking about the stocks and shares she was buying.
Apparently she used to go in there in the morning, have a Guinness or two, then use the phone to ring her stock-broker.
- A Mrs Prescott.
- Prescott.
That's not much help.
- Anything else known about her? - No, not really.
Respectable old trout, apparently.
Always talking about some City family whose children she used to nurse.
Seems that's where she got her taste for high finance.
Mrs Prescott.
Nanny Prescott.
- Is she still about? - No, he hasn't seen her in three months.
I wonder - The judge is coming, Mr Rumpole.
- Yes.
(Whispers) Better get to work.
Yeah, er sorry I couldn't be more help, Mr Rumpole.
(Mouthing) Yes, Mr Hector Vellacott? What the Crown says is this, having got hold of the secret information that Cornucopia Jams were about to be taken over by Worldwide Groceries, this young man, Nigel Timson, bought no less than £68,000 worth of Cornucopia shares.
When the takeover bid was completed, those shares doubled their value.
I say he bought them, members of the jury.
He may to tell you that he bought them for a client, a Miss Mabel Gloag.
Who is this Miss Mabel Gloag, you may well ask.
Nanny Prescott.
It's just not possible.
- Why did you say that? - What? - Nanny Prescott.
- Why, do you know her? That was the name of our old nanny.
Years ago, when we were kids.
- Mrs Prescott.
- Er Did she have a Christian name, by any chance? Maybee, that's what we used to call her.
Maybee, Mabel.
Look, if you had a look, do you think you could dig out a photograph of this queen of the nursery? - Mr Rumpole.
- My Lord? It's customary for Counsel and solicitors to discuss their cases before coming into court, not during the opening speech for the prosecution.
Yes, thank you, My Lord, Oh, is my learned friend still opening? Fascinating stuff, of course.
- I shall be all attention.
- Yes! Mr Vellacott.
The sum of £20,000 was paid into the defendant's bank account when the transaction was completed.
Can you doubt, members of the jury, that this was the defendant's first dip into his ill-gotten gains? No doubt spent on his champagne and his Porsche motorcar My Lord, I object.
What this man chooses to drink is entirely irrelevant.
Mr Vellacott, will there be any evidence as to the defendant's earnings? In a good year with bonuses, about 70,000.
- Sir Christopher Japhet's evidence.
- Good God.
That's more than More than an Old Bailey judge earns, was your Honour about to say? - (Laughter) - Silence! It's a considerable sum of money, particularly if it's added to by the proceeds of illegal dealings.
- Yes, Mr Vellacott? - My Lord, I call Mr Shillingford.
Now's a good time to duck out.
(Usher) Mr Hugo Shillingford.
Thank you.
Just wait there, will you, Mr Shillingford.
Mr Shillingford, you said you were not a close friend of Nigel Timson? Well, I mean, we never went to school together.
He went to Wapping Comprehensive and the Shepherd's Bush market.
He gained his financial expertise fixing the price of Cox's Orange Pippins.
Isn't he what you young gentlemen of the City would call a "barrow boy", as distinct from a Harrow boy? I didn't know all that about Nigel.
But you knew he hadn't gone to a public school? Yes, I knew that.
Now (Coughs) When he said he'd made a killing on Cornucopia shares, did he not also add the words "For some little old lady in Harrogate"? - I didn't hear that.
- You didn't hear him say that? What What were you celebrating in the wine bar? - Was it your birthday on that occasion? - Yes it was, now I come to think of it.
And were you occupied doing some juggling? Occupied doing some what, Mr Rumpole? Juggling with a couple of champagne glasses and a bottle of Dom Pérignon.
- Juggling with Dom Pérignon? - As a matter of fact I was.
I rather think I dropped it.
Ah yes! And at that tragic moment, might Nigel Timson not have mentioned the old lady when you weren't listening? Yes.
Yes, I suppose he might.
Thank you.
Now one other matter.
Haven't there been suspicions of previous insider dealings at your firm? This can't be relevant.
Whether it is or not, it can't possibly help your client, Mr Rumpole.
We have seen DI Arbuthnot's statement about previous suspect deals.
I have no intention of putting in that evidence in fairness to the accused.
In fairness to the accused I would like an answer to the question.
What is it, Mr Shillingford? There was a lot of talk, yes, that someone had used information from the Finance Department to buy shares.
- Thank you, much obliged.
- "Someone used information" Mmm.
- Sir Christopher Japhet.
- Yes? This way, sir.
- You don't like barrow boys, do you? - Excuse me? I don't think the witness understands that question better than I do.
Your Lordship is quite wrong about that.
Sir Christopher understands me very well.
You did an interview on television for "The City Programme", didn't you? Yes, I did.
You said the crime wave in the City was due to the number of barrow boys that have got into the Stock Exchange.
I said the traditions of a gentleman's word being his bond had died out.
- I regret it.
- I'm sure we all regret it, sir.
The standard of gentlemanly behaviour is declining.
Even in the legal profession.
Yes, Mr Rumpole? Nigel Timson came to you as an office boy.
I believe so.
And he obtained his present position by honest hard work.
I believe he was honest to start with.
- Got to know your daughter rather well.
- They became quite friendly, yes.
Don't let's mince matters.
They live together in a fashionable address on the Isle of Dogs? - Really, Mr Rumpole! - Well, what's the answer, sir? Has your client instructed you to attack the honour of this gentleman's daughter? My client's honour has been attacked.
He is accused of being dishonest.
What on earth can his relations with Miss Japhet possibly have to do with it? - My Lord, may I make a suggestion? - What is it? That your Lordship sits quietly and allows me to develop the defence? Whether I succeed or not will be entirely a matter for the jury.
- If your Lordship pleases.
- Well, perhaps I can help.
My daughter and Nigel Timson are living together, yes.
Thank you, sir.
That's the frankness I would expect from you.
Now, perhaps we can pass to something relevant.
Oh, certainly.
Have you found out much about Nigel Timson's family? I made certain enquiries.
Have you discovered that several clan members have had more convictions than we've had hot dinners? (Loud laughter) (Usher) Silence! (Judge) Mr Rumpole.
Has this led you to view young Nigel Timson with disfavour? I only want my daughter to be happy.
But you don't want her to marry a barrow boy.
I'd rather my daughter not marry into the Timson's family.
- If I have to be honest.
- Yes, sir.
You have to be honest.
And is that why you are giving evidence against him on this vague charge of insider dealing? I have given evidence because it is the truth! (Judge) "It is the truth.
" - Have you any more questions? - Just a few, my Lord.
Get the clerk down to the National Registry.
Ask for the marriage certificate of Mrs Mabel Prescott, née Gloag.
Prescott.
Sir Christopher, have there been suspicions of previous insider dealing in your firm prior to the Cornucopia takeover? - Unfortunately, yes.
- Yes.
Might not the person responsible for that have wanted to put the blame on this young barrow boy, Nigel Timson? - I suppose anything's possible.
- Yes.
Isn't it possible that this person could have instructed a Miss Gloag to order her Cornucopia shares through Nigel Timson, provided of course that that person knew that the shares would rise? I've said it's possible.
And to make matters even worse for Nigel Timson, might that person not have paid £20,000 into his bank account anonymously? He must have been a very generous someone indeed.
Oh, do you really think so, out of a profit of 68,000? You are suggesting that this person was responsible for the previous insider deals? That is precisely what I am suggesting, Sir Christopher.
Do you have a bank account in the Cayman Islands? Have you forgotten how many bank accounts you've accumulated? I have a small bank account in the Cayman Islands, yes.
Yes, at the er the Transworld Archipelago Bank? - I believe that's what the bank is called.
- You believe that that's what it's called.
My Lord, we shall present evidence that the source of the £20,000 was a bank in the Cayman Islands, the Transworld Archipelago.
Your daughter, Rose, a well brought-up girl I've no doubt? Yes, I hope so.
And her formative years were presided over by a devoted nursemaid? - We had a nanny, yes.
- Nanny Prescott? - Do you believe that was her name? - That was her name, yes.
Is that photograph of Nanny Mabel Prescott? Yes, it is.
That's Mrs Prescott with my daughter, yes.
- Can you tell us where she is now? - I'm afraid I can't recall.
She has a son in Australia, perhaps she's gone out there.
Oh, how very convenient.
We have heard that she had a Post Office Box number in Harrogate.
- Did you know she lived there? - I heard about a family in Harrogate.
Mr Rumpole, may I ask where these questions are leading? - I hope, My Lord, to the truth.
- Which is? Which is, My Lord, that you, Sir Christopher, got your old servant, using her maiden name of Gloag, to order the Cornucopia shares through Nigel Timson.
That you paid the £20,000 into his bank account, and you did all that to cover up your own insider dealing.
A brilliant idea, was it not, to blame it all on one of these unspeakable barrow boys that have let down the honourable traditions of you old City gents.
- What's your answer, sir? - What an outrageous suggestion! "Absolutely outrageous" (Inaudible whispering) May I reserve the rest of my cross-examination until tomorrow? What's your reason for that, Mr Rumpole? (Rumpole) 'In the hope of collecting some evidence 'to back up the outrageous suggestion.
' - Well? - In consideration of the witness.
- Sir Christopher may be feeling tired.
- Yes.
Excellent idea.
Shall we say 10:30 tomorrow morning, Sir Christopher? (Henry) Oh, Mr Rumpole.
We've had the Lord Chancellor's office on the phone to Chambers.
- Old Keith? - Yeah.
He wants you to meet him for a drink at the Sheridan Club.
Old Keith from the Chancellor's office.
Oh, my ears and whiskers.
I thought a drink at my club might be the best way to get over this situation.
Yes, well, here's mud in your eye er, sir.
Thank you.
The Lord Chancellor has received an awkward letter from Mrs Rumpole.
Ah, yes, and Mrs Rumpole can be awkward.
She actually suggested that we give you silk.
The Lord Chancellor was deeply embarrassed by it.
Sorry.
Made him squirm around on the woolsack, did it? Some men are natural juniors, Rumpole, experienced men, highly experienced.
The good old non-commissioned officers of the Bailey.
Absolutely no criticism of you, of course, but Well, at your age, you know, and given your type of practice, silk really is out of the question.
Rumpole QC.
It just can't be done.
- Oh, well.
- So, you'll break it to your wife? I know she'll be disappointed.
Her father didn't get silk either.
Old Wystan never quite made it.
Battling down the Bailey now, are you? Oh, yes, a big City fraud, a bit of insider dealing.
Jolly good show.
You'll want to be getting along home then.
Carry on, Sergeant Rumpole.
- Ah, Rumpole.
- Ah, Ballard.
What a pleasant surprise.
Allow me to buy you a drink.
- What's it to be, a claret? - A large claret.
A large claret, of course.
George, a large claret and small Perrier water.
You're moving in elevated circles, aren't you? Old Keith from the Lord Chancellor's Office? - Oh, old Keith, yes.
- Yes, yes.
Ha ha! Keith mention me at all? Ah, you want to know what Keith said about you? - Thanks.
How much is that? - Three pound fifty.
Three pound fif! Er, three pound fifty, yes.
Er here, there's five pounds.
Thank you.
So what did Keith have to say about me? Keith said absolutely nothing about you, Ballard.
A cheque for £50 on Snaresbrook and Higgs.
Was that for the breathalyser you accused Henry of nicking? You erm I I must have put it in here and and forgotten about it, of course.
I'II I'll tell Henry.
Accusing your faithful clerk of stealing.
I wonder what the Sheridan Club Committee would say about that? If I were you, I wouldn't ask anyone to blackball Claude Erskine-Brown.
No.
No, of course not.
No, I've always thought Claude would make a pretty good member here.
Yes, he might liven the place up a bit.
Bring on the dancing girls.
Er, Rumpole.
Rumpole! - Yes? - Might I have a word in your shell-like? (Whispers) In truth, we can't find Sir Christopher Japhet.
Oh, you do astonish me.
Have you tried the Grand Cayman? Maybe he's turned himself into an off-shore island.
Inspector Arbuthnot seems to think he's bunked off the country.
- Yes.
- Too quick for us, I'm afraid.
We can't go on against Timson.
The judge is not going to like it.
Don't worry about him.
The shock will bring him back to life.
It seems that Sir Christopher has absconded, old dear.
And the prosecution's collapsed.
- Oh, yes.
Nigel, my son.
That's it.
- Yeah? He's done it.
He's done a runner, ain't he? Thank you.
Thank you.
- Rosie your father - I know.
He's gone.
You did it to him, didn't you? You and that barrister.
All your family out of various jails.
- (Sighs) Rosie, come back.
- Leave me alone! Barrow boy! Dianne, we've been through this a thousand times! (Sobs) Well, you've done it now, Mr Rumpole.
Yes, Henry, another famous victory.
Chief witness against me made a dash for the airport.
Prosecution up an embarrassing creek without a paddle.
No, no, no.
I mean you've done me in.
You've only ruined my life, that's all.
But, Henry, don't you know? Ballard's found the cheque.
It's good news.
Hasn't he apologised? You found the cheque in his wallet.
You made him apologise.
Where does that leave me? Where leaves you? What do you mean? Lady Mayoress.
I've got no way out now.
- Oh, Henry.
- I won't have to leave the country.
I can't take up a new career in show business in the Dandenong Mountains.
Dianne and I won't be travelling to the Southern Hemisphere now.
I'm stuck for the rest of my life in Bexleyheath, married to a Chair.
Henry, I'm sorry.
Perhaps you'd be so kind as to leave me now, Mr Rumpole.
I wish to be alone with my dreams, what little is left of them.
Oh, by the way, Hilda, I, er ahem! I had a little chat today with old Keith from the Lord Chancellor's office.
- He asked me for a drink in his club.
- He didn't.
Oh, yes, we had a little chat in the Sheridan.
And what is it now, Rumpole QC? Ah, no, Hilda.
I'm afraid not.
- Not? - No.
But he was talking about your learned father, old CH Wystan.
The man from the Lord Chancellor's office was talking about daddy? Yes, at some length.
Saying what a brilliant lawyer he was.
They were gonna make him a QC, you know.
- Daddy, QC? - Exactly.
But then he went off to a higher court as old Keith put it.
The Great Appeals Court in the sky.
- Daddy died.
- Sadly, yes.
And of course as old CH Wystan had missed it they could hardly give it to a mere son-in-law, could they? There's some rule about there being too many QCs in the one family.
Yes.
Yes, I do understand, Rumpole.
After daddy, it would be a bit of a comedown to give it to you.
Er, yes.
But the Lord Chancellor sent his love from the woolsack, and said you needn't trouble to write again.
How very kind of him.
Such a charming man.
Very good legs, I always think, in breeches.
Rumpole, are you feeling a little bit chilly? Would you like another bar or two of the fire on? Oh, good heavens, we're missing "The City Programme".
I was thinking of buying British Airways.
'The sudden disappearance of Sir Christopher Japhet 'in the middle of the Old Bailey insider dealing trial 'is likely to cause nervousness on the London market, 'and a shudder in the Dow-Jones.
' "'Hilda hath murdered sleep "'and therefore Rumpole shall sleep no more"' (TV) 'Maecenas Holdings are planning a bid for British prisons 'when they're privatised.
'