Rumpole of the Bailey (1978) s07e04 Episode Script
Rumpole and the Reform of Joby Jonson
(Footsteps) Rumpole! Rumpole! Yes? - Can you hear something? - Yes.
- What? - I can hear you, Hilda, you.
(Loud slam) Rumpole! - What is it now? - There's someone in the flat.
- Yes, we are.
We usually are at night.
- Ssh! Don't shush me! I didn't start this conversation! - Don't you hear? - Hear what? - Sounds.
- Be not afraid, Hilda.
The flat is full of noises, sounds and sweet airs that delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about thine ears and sometimes voices that if I then had waked after long sleep will make me sleep again I hope! No doubt one of your business associates.
- What do you mean? - A burglar! Why don't you go and find out what he's after? - No need to disturb the fella.
- Are you afraid? There is no burglar.
You've been dreaming.
- Prove it.
- I can't.
I'm asleep.
Or is that a job you'd rather leave to a woman? (Footsteps) Oh! All right, guv, it's a fair cop! Just like you to make a joke out of burglars! The TV set still seems to be with us.
- Did you leave that window open? - Yes.
No.
I can't remember.
I'd make a terrible witness! Ah! - That is odd.
- What is? My brief for the Queen versus Joby Jonson.
No one's stolen that.
- No, but - But what? I left it in my briefcase.
Somebody's been at it.
That's not my bow! It isn't how I leave a brief I was working on.
Chequebook, Mrs O'Thingummy's money untouched.
- There's nothing missing.
- Something is.
What? Proof of evidence of Joby Jonson, alleged robber of pensioners.
His statement of defence, such as it was, has melted into air, into thin air.
So somebody WAS here? Yes, you're usually right, of course.
Somebody was.
Any sort of news in the paper, Philly? Some sort of news.
War in Bulgaria, earthquakes in South America, new threat of global warming.
No, I mean important news.
The list of the new QCs, for instance.
Ah, well Look for yourself.
No.
No, I don't want to look for myself, Philly.
I'm not brave enough to look for myself.
I don't think I could put up with another disappointment.
"The list of new Queen's Counsel will be announced next month.
"It's expected to include" Me? "Tabitha Merryweather, the brilliant Ghanaian women's civil rights lawyer.
" - Nothing to say I'll get it.
- You've asked often enough! - Only five times.
- You'll probably get it for persistence.
- We all know you got it first time.
- Bit of a fluke actually.
No, not a fluke.
It's because you're a woman.
Doin' your fitness classes, is you, Joby? Getting into shape to beat up someone else's granny? Brave boy.
Goin' three rounds with an old lady - I never.
- Are you arguin' with us, boy? I haven't been convicted.
Oh, he's innocent! Hear that, Snouty? They got you down as a granny basher.
Do you wanna argue? Not here with you, Snouty.
Just in court.
My brief's gonna get me off.
Oh, leave it out, will you? You put your hands up in court.
You've got no alternative.
Trust us, sunshine.
You've got no better brief than we are.
- Ah, Erskine-Brown.
- Ballard.
Your name cropped up when I was speaking to old Keith from the Lord Chancellor's office.
Did it, Ballard? Did it really? He was interested in my views, as Head of Chambers, on your application for silk.
Interested? Was he really interested? They're taking my application seriously? Naturally.
Keith was saying it's become an annual event.
Like Christmas! You mean they look forward to it? Let's say they give it their serious consideration and I was able to let him have my views, fairly fully.
Thank you very much, Ballard.
Yes.
I said I did not think there would be any repetition of the incidents in which you'd been involved in, such as the complaint lodged by our new typist, Miss Clapton.
You told Keith from the Lord Chancellor's department about Dot? Yes.
I felt it was my duty.
Evidence the Lord Chancellor might have to consider of your lack of gravitas.
- My lack of what? - Bottom.
It might indicate that you are not fundamentally sound.
You said that to Keith from the Lord Chancellor's department? And I said it in your own best interests.
You pompous prick! - I don't think I heard that.
- Oh, yes, you did.
If you don't know what it means, I suggest you ask Dot Clapton.
It's a view of your character quite commonly held at Number 3 Equity Court.
Pompous what exactly? - What have you done to your face? - Accident.
Oh, yes? Mistook it for an ashtray, did you? That's right, yeah.
We can help you complain to the Governor.
Leave it out.
You leave it out an' all! You want to get me killed or something? No, strange as it may seem, Joby, we're trying to get you off! Now, then "A Mrs Louisa Parsons, aged 75, "living at an end house, No.
1 Pondicherry Road behind Euston Station, "answered a ring at her front door on the morning of October 19th.
"A youth was there who said, 'You still living here? ' and then ran off.
"Later, a person she identifies as the same youth, his face partially covered, "again rang her doorbell, and when she answered it, forced his way in, "punched her in the face and stomach" Charming! "tied her up, kicked her, broke most of the crockery and some of the furniture, "and left with Mrs Parsons' post office savings book with a balance of £5.
79.
"She later identified the defendant Joby Jonson "at an identification parade in Euston nick.
" That is the first time I set my eyes on the old bat, at the ID parade.
Joby, it might be as well when you're giving evidence to resist the temptation to call the victim "an old bat".
It is not likely to endear you to the jury.
Have you got a spare copy of Joby's statement? Mine walked in the night! The defence is an alibi, if you remember.
- You read what I said? - Yes, Joby, of course I did.
Over the last few months it's been my sole bedtime study.
"So far as I can remember" That's a promising start! "At the time Mrs Parsons was attacked, "I was hanging about near the superloo in Euston Station "with three girls who were singing and dancing a bit.
" Mr Bernard says that you was a brilliant brief.
Can't you even get me off on this? I may well be a brilliant brief, Joby, but I am unable to walk on water or transmute base metals into gold.
Nor can I make use of a so-called alibi which ignores the most important evidence! - What's that meant to be then? - Your palm print on Mrs Parsons' door.
Yeah, well I'm not for puttin' me hands up.
As long as that's clear! I don't care what they says! Have you got that? Not exactly the most likeable young man, Mr Rumpole! Mr Bernard, that is the understatement of the year.
Do you know what's deteriorated since the good old, bad old days? The character of our young offenders.
Where have all the Artful Dodgers gone? And where are all those cheerful cockney pickpockets who had thumbs in their waistcoats and said, "Whatcha, me old cock sparrow?" It was a sad day for England when the Artful Dodgers turned into the Joby Jonsons.
- Dot - Yes, Henry? I couldn't have better staff than you.
A senior clerk could not wish for more efficient staff or more pleasant and I've done my best to make you feel at home in Equity Court, but A barristers' chambers is a barristers' chambers.
- Got some criticism of my typing? - Your typing is almost perfection.
- Or the speed I get the fee notes out at? - You get them out at the speed of light.
What I wanted to say was, well Barristers! Some of them are what I suppose you'd call old-fashioned! - (Phone rings) - Old-fashioned? Museum pieces still in Y-fronts and braces! Yeah, hello? (Laughter) Something amusing you, Mr Erskine-Brown? No, no.
Really nothing, Dot.
Honestly.
It's just that Well, I haven't had much to laugh at recently.
That's all.
I say, Dot, congratulations! That's what chambers need - someone to make a statement.
We're not all clones.
We're not all imitation male lawyers in pin-stripes.
We're the sisterhood of free spirits! Are you, Miss Probert? I'm trying to get on with Mr Inchcape's typing.
Dot, a couple more pages of the particulars of negligence.
I'll make them my top priority.
Mr Rumpole, it's the office of the Under-Secretary at the Home Office.
Wonders if you could call in for a brief word? Tell him we'll try and fit him in with my other engagements.
I'll have to call you back when I find a window of time in Mr Rumpole's diary.
- Henry - Yes, Mr Ballard? I'm calling a chambers meeting on a most serious situation.
I hope you will all be able to attend.
I don't know.
Depends on my business with Her Majesty's Government.
Tom Mottram, Under-Secretary, Home Affairs, with special responsibility for prisons.
I try to keep them in! Horace Rumpole, counsel for the defence.
I try to keep them out! Very good.
Wasn't that good? Elspeth Dodds, Parliamentary Private Secretary.
- Hello.
- Do come and sit down, Mr Rumpole.
You may have wondered why I asked you to drop by.
Please Thank you.
It's about a young lad called Joby Jonson.
Oh, really? I'm a constituency MP.
I hope a good one.
I've had Joby Jonson's mother at my surgery week in, week out, poor woman.
- She really is quite distracted.
- I expect she is.
I told her I'd see he was properly defended.
I'm delighted you're appearing for him.
You'll see he doesn't make things worse by putting up some stupid defence.
- Can I tell her he's well looked after? - Yes, he's having the time of his life! Banged up for 23 hours a day in a seven-foot cell with a couple of chamber pots and a sworn enemy who passes the time by stubbing cigarettes out on his face.
And, of course, Joby Jonson is entirely innocent.
Innocent? That's interesting.
Is that your view? As innocent as we all are until 12 fellow citizens come back into court and tell him he's guilty.
You're giving us your courtroom performance.
Good.
Isn't it, Elspeth? Very good indeed.
I was trying to point out the conditions endured by prisoners on remand.
Oh, worse than 100 years ago.
We know that.
Don't we, Elspeth? Only too well.
And our minister would be the first to agree with you.
Then why doesn't he do something about it? Unfortunately, we live in a democracy.
We listen to the instructions of our masters with the votes.
So we leave prison reform to the private sector.
People like you.
- And Seb Pilgrim.
- Who? You don't know Seb? He runs YERT.
Runs what? Youth Enterprise Reform Trust.
You must've heard of Sir Sebastian Pilgrim.
He's a splendid fellow.
He carried his bat for England.
He does wonderful things with hopeless cases like Joby Jonson.
Teaches them cricket, gives them pride in themselves, reforms their characters.
- You two should get together.
- Do you think so? I've never carried my bat for anywhere.
(Alarm goes off) Hilda! What's wrong? Is there an air raid? Don't be silly.
It's perfectly simple.
You just press 34896 and the yellow button and you see it's quiet immediately.
What else have you installed? Death rays, man traps? Will you sit in the kitchen all night with a double-barrelled shotgun? You have to give the criminal classes a chance to earn a living! - Oh, hello.
- Good afternoon, Mr Rumpole.
Kensington CID, DS Appleby.
Your wife called us in again.
Seems the villains have turned against you.
Been losing their cases, sir? Very amusing.
I insisted Mr Appleby came to look for fingerprints.
- Tea, Mr Appleby? - Thank you.
A very thorough investigator.
She knows my job better than I do.
Yes, Mrs Rumpole is one of nature's detective superintendents.
Don't worry about it.
Almost certainly a professional wearing gloves.
And didn't take anything of value? Just some of your papers? Who'd be interested in that? (Phone rings) I've been wondering about that myself.
Hello? Yes, Rumpole speaking.
What? Sir Sebastian Pilgrim wants a word with me? What about? Joby Jonson? Yes, all right.
Join the queue.
- A pompous prick? - I called him that.
Our Head of Chambers.
And the next table was full of solicitors.
That was the most persuasive and accurately phrased speech you ever made down the Old Bailey, and the shortest.
He told Keith that I have no bottom.
He's got enough for both of you.
That I wasn't fundamentally sound.
I should tell the Lord Chancellor a few home truths about our leader.
The fact that he's a smarmy, hypocritical, God-bothering vegetarian? No, the time for action has come, the hour of decision.
Oh Philly, what does that mean exactly? It means, Claude, I am on the case.
Mr Rumpole? - That's me.
- I'm Fred Bry.
I've come to take you to Sir Sebastian Pilgrim.
Thank you.
Yours, Mr Rumpole! - No, I'm sure it's yours.
- Fancy a go at the wicket? Not in the least.
I'm allergic to any form of sport.
Except for teasing Her Majesty's judges.
You're very famous among our lads.
- You're not allergic to a drink, I hope? - I thought you'd never ask! I'm sorry, Mr Rumpole.
The lads have voted this a smoke-free zone.
What are you running here? A monastery? Very funny.
Delightful wit.
That's what old Tom Mottram told me about you.
No, I don't make the rules.
The boys do.
Self-discipline is the name of the game.
- I thought it was cricket! - No alcohol, no smoking.
And if anyone is found dropping an E - A what? - Ecstasy.
Anyone indulging in any sort of drug gets a hard time from the other fellas.
It's no good imposing rules from above.
How's the coffee? I'm afraid we're not up to your gastronomic standards.
We have more important things to think about.
Yes, like Joby Jonson.
Ah, yes, Joby.
I must admit I'm worried about Joby.
Most people seem to be.
What we find here is that the first step to reform is to admit to what you've done.
- If only to your mates.
- Plead guilty? Even if you only admit it to yourself.
Look over there, what we call our quiet corner.
- What is it, a prayer meeting? - Yeah, something like that.
The lads over there are coming out with all their crime, they talk it through, and Fred tells them where that leads.
- Your driver? - And Fred should know.
He'd done six years for robbery when I took him on.
So you believe confession's good for the soul? - Don't you? - Oh, perhaps.
It's not much good at keeping you out of the nick.
If you could just get him to admit what he's done, if only to himself, to face up to it and not to tell any silly lies, it could be the beginning of his way back to reality.
Or the beginning of about five years in chokey! He's come here often.
He's had his talking sessions with Fred and the others.
I just don't want to write him off as one of my failures.
- I'm sure we want what's best for him.
- I'm sure.
Tell me, what can I do to help? Well, I could call you as a character witness.
More impressive than a shrink or the vicar.
"I call Sir Sebastian Pilgrim who carried his bat for England.
" You can count on me, Mr Rumpole.
You can count on me.
You were talking about Joby? You and Seb? Oh, erm, yes, we were.
Yes.
A big disappointment to us, Joby.
Terrible disappointment.
We did our best with Joby - Seb and me.
We both tried hard.
So, it's over to you now, Mr Rumpole.
Get the boy to own up to what he's done.
It's the only way.
Certain standards of civilisation have to be kept at Equity Court.
We couldn't have people turning up in war paint.
No, Sam.
You're absolutely right.
Thank you very much, Mrs Erskine-Brown.
- I don't see why not.
- What, Rumpole? I don't see why not! I'm all for anything that adds drama to the surroundings! If you'd come in this morning wearing war paint, waving an assegai on your way to a bloody summons Rumpole, we are at something of a crisis in Equity Court! We could be off down the slippery slope towards What? - Suede shoes.
- What? There are men in Miles Crudgington's set who go into chambers in suede shoes.
- Shock, horror! - You see where this can lead to! Yes, Sam, that is the most terrible warning.
I agree with you, Ballard.
100°% .
Dot was making an unacceptable statement of female submission.
It was nothing but a kind of harem signal to any would-be sheikh foolish enough to take her up on the offer.
Dot's nose, not to put too fine a point on it, is politically incorrect.
Erskine-Brown, do you not have an opinion on this? I don't imagine I have enough bottom to express an opinion.
- Enough what? - Gravitas.
- Ballard doesn't think I've got enough.
- Gravitas? Sounds like a breakfast food! Sorry, must be off.
Can't spend any more time on this discussion, fascinating though it may be! I suggest we leave all further action in this matter to our Head of Chambers.
I'm sure Sam will deal with it with his usual wisdom.
- Are you feeling quite well, Portia? - Perfectly well.
I'm positive Sam can be trusted to have a tactful word in the appropriate quarter, can't you, Sam? Oh, Inchcape! You You didn't say what you thought about the rich ornament in Dorothea Clapton's nostril.
To be honest, I never even noticed it was there.
- Did you not? - No.
How very interesting.
Hello, Dot.
I just popped in to see what's on for tomorrow.
I wanted your advice.
I don't have any opinion.
I suppose it does add a touch of colour to chambers.
- What adds colour? - Nothing in particular.
About my dad.
He lives not far from here actually.
I thought you and Henry hailed from Bexleyheath.
My mum lives there.
They split up when I was seven.
- I'm sorry to hear that.
- It wasn't a great tragedy.
My dad's an awkward customer.
Calling him bloody-minded is a compliment! They want to do a new development down his street, but he won't sell his house.
Tells them he's too old to move, tells them to sod off! Well, that's property law, Dot.
It's hardly my "specialité de la maison".
If he had committed a murder Perhaps he will if they go on asking him to sell up! They send people round telling him he's got to move.
They ring on his doorbell all hours.
It must be highly irritating.
Where does he live exactly? - MacGlinty Terrace.
- Oh, yes.
Round behind Euston Station.
Do you know the area? I think I might do, yes.
You were superb today, Sam.
- Thank you, Mrs Erskine-Brown.
- Phyllida.
- Yes, of course.
Phyllida.
- Think nothing of it.
What I admired was how you dominated the proceedings, yet everything was fun.
I try to make our meetings enjoyable.
And you succeed.
I suppose it's just your personality.
Really? All these years that you and I have been the only two silks in chambers, do you know, we've never had lunch together? - Doesn't that strike you as strange? - No.
Not really.
You're a member of Inner Temple, I'm at Gray's Inn, so we never had lunch in the same place.
Sam, why don't you invite me? All right then, Phyllida.
I will.
There's a very nice health food bar in Fetter Lane.
Oh, that doesn't sound terribly romantic to me.
- What about the Savoy Grill? - The Savoy Grill? That's the one.
I thought you'd never ask! There's a profile of one of your friends here.
You ought to be proud of him.
- What friend is that? - Not one of your criminal classes.
Not one of your burglars who entered by the fire escape to rob us.
This is someone to be proud of.
You might invite him to dinner.
Invite who to dinner? Sir Sebastian Pilgrim, one-time all-rounder for England.
Spends much of his time trying to reform young criminals.
You don't do that.
- That isn't your sort of thing.
- Neither is cricket.
He's also a brilliant businessman, Chairman of Maiden Over Holdings.
Seb told his shareholders, "I believe in England.
" Good for him.
I suppose the rest of us think it's a figment of our imagination! He was in partnership with Tom Mottram until Mr Mottram joined the government.
They're planning to build a multi-storey hotel and shopping centre.
Tom Mottram! Do they say where this monstrous carbuncle is to be dumped? - Are you thinking of investing? - Perhaps a little of my time.
Behind Euston Station.
I've been away such a lot doing these boring big cases all over the world, - I didn't realise what I was missing.
- What were you missing? Well, to be honest, Sam, my Head of Chambers.
- The Head? - Well, in a word, you.
I do think about you quite a lot when I'm all alone in places like Hong Kong.
You think about me in Hong Kong? - You don't mind? - No, Mrs Erskine-Brown.
Phyllida.
You can think about whoever you like, but I've never been to Hong Kong.
Oh, yes, you have.
In my thoughts.
Really? I didn't know.
Sam, I can see you've had lots of practice chatting up women over lunch.
Not really, no.
I quite often send Miss Clapton out for sandwiches.
I've asked Henry to have a tactful word with her about the subject we discussed.
- Her nose? - Yes, exactly.
Splendid.
Takes a real man to act as decisively as that.
Claude believes he might do better with the Lord Chancellor if he were a woman.
- I think that's very silly.
- So do I.
- Claude couldn't possibly be a woman.
- He'd find it very difficult.
He should settle down to being himself.
I think that's what he's afraid of.
He said you had a chat about his application with dear old Keith.
Yes, he didn't seem too pleased.
He used an expression I couldn't repeat in a public place.
Yes, he called you a pom Phyllida, Phyllida! Pas devant le waiter! - Is this champagne? - Of course it is.
- Did I order it? - Of course you did.
I think you wanted to celebrate the fact that we're going out together at long, long last.
Causes a rather curious sensation in the nose.
Forgive Claude.
He had a deprived childhood.
That's the sort of language chaps pick up at Winchester! Hmm! You, erm You didn't think he ought to take silk? In his own best interests, Phyllida.
You're fibbing.
You were thinking entirely of me.
- Was I? - You thought I'd get less leading briefs with Claude competing, hmm? Look, I want to be entirely honest with you, now we've become real friends.
Do you? Of course I do.
And I want you to be the first to know.
I shan't be looking for leading briefs in future.
- You shan't? - I'm leaving the Bar.
- Phyllida! - For good.
I've made up my mind.
Don't look so sad.
I'm not leaving the country.
We'll still be able to meet.
And you know what might make it really easy for me? Easy? If Claude were away in, let's say, Hong Kong, doing leading briefs for long periods of time, you and I could have lunch together.
You'd like that, wouldn't you? Yes, Phyllida, I believe I would.
Well, look, do me a small favour.
Help us both.
How? Just pick up the phone to dear old Keith in the Lord Chancellor's office.
Tell him there is no objection to Claude being wrapped in silk, even if he's a man.
That would make it easier and help you and Claude? It would help you and me, Sam, considerably.
Here's to us both.
Regina versus Jonson coming up next, Mr Rumpole.
- Yes, indeed.
- Doesn't look like a winner.
No, and be warned, Mr Bernard.
We are up against one of the most subtle tacticians - the "artfullest" dodger down the Old Bailey.
- Who's that, Mr Rumpole? - Mrs Phyllida Erskine-Brown, QC.
The Portia of our chambers.
A silk to prosecute.
They're putting us up before the red judge.
I heard a whisper our boy was getting star treatment.
Mugging is the flavour of the month.
The powers that be want to show they're all terribly concerned.
Never despair, there are still a few things we can do.
- Such as? - Just routine enquiries.
Here you are.
There! Get in touch with a Mr Clapton of MacGlinty Terrace.
That's round near Euston Station.
See how far that is from Pondicherry Road, would you? Oh, and discover everything you can about these people.
What, Maiden Over Holdings? Maiden Over Holdings, yes.
And any estate agents that they might employ.
Oh, and while we're still on the subject of young Dawkins And Dawkins.
Dawkins? Who's Dawkins, Mr Rumpole? Oh, John Dawkins, the original Artful Dodger.
Let us not forget that he was part of a much wider organisation being run from old Fagin's thieves' kitchen.
Have you had much experience with this judge, Portia? Graves? No, never been before him.
Have you? To my deep regret.
(Clerk) Silence in court! All stand! (Rumpole) Mr "Injustice" Graves is an absolute four-letter man! He's humourless, tedious, unsympathetic and unjust.
In a word, our judge is a complete pain in the fundament! Mr Rumpole, it may come as a surprise to you to know that the acoustics in this court are absolutely perfect and my hearing is exceptionally keen.
And I can hear absolutely every word that is spoken on counsels' benches.
See what I mean? Henry! It's still there.
I saw it this morning, the undesirable ornament.
You were going to speak to Miss Clapton.
Didn't the meeting decide you would do that? Yes, and I deputed the task to you, Henry.
No, sir, that is well outside clerking duties.
It's not for me to make personal remarks to valued staff.
Very well, I shall have to do it myself, but not now.
I'm due before the recorder in ten minutes.
- Is Mrs Erskine-Brown in this court? - Yes, prosecuting Mr Rumpole.
I expect she'd appreciate it if I popped my head in and said "good morning".
We say that Jonson viciously attacked this lady, old enough to be his grandmother, and robbed her of what were no doubt her small lifetime's savings.
Five pounds seventy-nine pence.
Did you say something, Mr Rumpole? I was just reminding my learned friend that the amount concerned is £5.
79.
Mr Rumpole, I have no doubt we shall be hearing from you later.
Now I think we might let Mrs Erskine-Brown open her case without any more frivolous interruptions.
Yes, Mrs Erskine-Brown? Yes Mrs Erskine-Brown? It remains to be seen what sort of defence, if any, will be put forward for Jonson.
It is alleged that while this appalling attack was taking place, Jonson was dancing with some girls from Manchester outside the superloo at Euston Station.
What is a superloo exactly? It is, I believe, my lord, a kind of superior lavatory.
A kind of SUPERIOR lavatory, hmm 'MacGlinty Terrace, there we are, turning off Pondicherry Road.
' Right behind Euston Station! - Did you say something, Mr Rumpole? - Nothing more at the moment, my lord.
Some weeks later, Mrs Parsons, did you attend an identification parade? I did.
The police officers were kind and made me a cup of tea.
Did you identify the youth who visited you twice on the 19th and attacked you the second time? - There he is.
- You are pointing to Joby Jonson.
Thank you, Mrs Parsons.
I managed to get copies of the letters to your friend Mr Clapton.
Not a friend.
Just the father of a friend.
Thank you.
I suppose you have questions, Mr Rumpole? Mrs Parsons, do you own your little house in Pondicherry Road? My husband saved for it.
He was a booking clerk at the station.
Were you not offered a lot of money for that house? I wasn't going to move, no matter how often they asked me.
Now, Mrs Parsons, you say that on that morning, a young man rang at your front door and said, "Are you still living here, Mrs Parsons?" Yes, he did.
Did you think there was any connection with the repeated requests to sell your house? - Not at the time, no.
- My lord, the witness can't speculate.
We should leave such flights of fancy to my learned friend.
My sentiments entirely.
Move on to the next matter, Mr Rumpole.
Nice one, Portia.
You've got him eating out of your hand! Mr Rumpole I didn't hear that.
Did you not, my lord? Must be the acoustics.
Mrs Parsons, later that day, a young man rang at your door, then he attacked you.
I heard the bell and thought, "He's back.
I'll give him a piece of my mind!" You weren't frightened when you answered the door? Not then, no.
I was when I saw him, though.
Oh.
Why? He had this What do they call it? "Ballycava" A balaclava, yes.
Yes, you say in your statement that the caller's face was hidden.
It was hidden a bit, yes.
Well, Mrs Parsons, how do you know it was the same boy? Right, Joby, confession time.
Confession is good for the soul, they say.
Admit it.
Somebody told you to go to Mrs Parsons' house and say, "Are you still living here, Mrs Parsons?" And scarper.
- What did you do in the afternoon? - I told you.
Yes, for once, I believe you.
Dropping an E you bought from some girls from Manchester, which led to some unseemly folk dancing outside the superloo in Euston Station.
And doubtless a horrible reaction of shivering, thirst, and a certain loss of memory.
How comes you know so much about doing an E? How come Mr Rumpole knows about everything? I know you went to that house in the morning.
Your palm print was on the door.
Mrs Parsons saw you and picked you out.
I know you didn't go there in the afternoon because the group you work for were so desperate to find out our defence, they burgled my flat.
They're scared you'll tell the truth that another lad came after you and did the serious business.
You'll have to tell the truth before this case is over.
What's this group you're on about? Don't you play games with me, sunshine.
You know perfectly well who I mean.
- You are Sir Sebastian Pilgrim? - I am.
And needing no introduction to us, I'm sure.
At least not to those who witnessed your century against Pakistan at Lord's in your final test.
I have no doubt the jury remember.
And do you run an organisation called The Youth Enterprise And Reform Trust, allegedly to help young men who have fallen into criminal ways? Once again, Sir Sebastian, your wonderful work with YERT is well known.
I do run that organisation to help delinquent boys.
I don't know why Mr Rumpole says "allegedly".
No doubt a slip of the tongue.
Wasn't it? Not exactly, my lord, no.
If I may go on, my meaning will become clear.
Are you also the Chairman of Maiden Over Holdings which plans a development behind Euston Station - of a large hotel and a shopping centre? - I am.
Weren't you having trouble with certain householders who refused to sell their homes to you to make way for this magnificent development? - No particular trouble.
- Were you not? Usher! Do you employ, among others, a firm of estate agents called Jebber & Jonas? The name's familiar.
- Do you employ them or not? - From time to time.
Is that a letter from Jebber & Jonas to a Mr Peter Clapton of MacGlinty Terrace, asking him to sell his home to make way for a new development? - It would appear to be so.
- Was that your hotel development? I don't know anyone else with similar plans.
Perhaps no one else is so anxious to invest in the future of this great city.
And was a Mrs Parsons of Pondicherry Road another householder who refused to sell her house to your company? - I really don't remember.
- Do try.
In any event, I'm sure she was made a very fair offer.
Sir Sebastian, do you hold the view that delinquents should admit what they have done? Yes, I believe that is the start of reform.
Do you want Joby Jonson to tell the truth about this case? Yes.
Very well.
He came to your club after having been in trouble over some minor matters? Yes.
My lord, I thought there was some good in the lad.
I hoped he might be a useful spin bowler.
Not so useful as you, Sir Sebastian, if we remember the Australian wickets in 1975! Went down like ninepins, members of the jury! And a useful messenger to send around about your company's business.
- Of course not.
- Why not, Sir Sebastian? I don't wish to be unkind, but Joby's not the brightest lad, not a boy you could trust with any business.
What sort of boy would you trust? I don't know what you mean.
Who did you choose to terrorise Mrs Parsons into selling her house to you? What? Isn't that the sort of job you offer to enterprising young men? That is an absolutely ridiculous suggestion.
There's no truth in it at all! Mr Rumpole, confine yourself to questions about your client's character.
Delighted, my lord.
Always anxious to please.
Well, I'm glad we can agree about some things.
Joby Jonson's talents are strictly limited.
Good enough perhaps to send round before lunch with a final warning, but the afternoon attack had to be done by another protégé in a balaclava helmet! Mr Rumpole, this is quite intolerable if you persist in trying to involve this distinguished gentleman in the terrible crime of which your client stands accused.
That is not how we play the game in these courts.
I'm so sorry, my lord.
I have never entirely understood the rules of cricket! Oh, Dot! Give my regards to your dad.
Tell him he's been a great help.
- Are you going to win? - I have hopes, dare I say, great hopes! Tell him to watch out for young men in balaclava helmets.
I reckon Dad can look after himself.
- Good, good.
By the way, Dot - Yes, Mr Rumpole? We had a meeting about that ornament in your nose.
- You never? - Yes, we did.
Nothing much was decided, but Dave Inchcape - Yes, Mr Rumpole? - He said he'd never even noticed it.
Oh, Phyllida, I did it a couple of weeks ago.
Congratulations.
Did what exactly? Spoke to Keith from the Lord Chancellor's office.
I told him that recently Claude had been showing a good deal of gravitas.
- How about bottom? - Quite a lot of that too.
Good.
I'm glad you put that right.
- Phyllida Phyllida! - Hmm? So how about lunch? Honestly, it really is very nice in the health food bar and there's a little corner table.
I wouldn't have to send a taxi back to chambers like last time for an extra sub from petty cash! Sorry, Ballard, I'm going to be too busy for lunches out in the foreseeable future.
Could I just glance at "The Times"? Oh, I say! Fabulous day! Absolutely fabulous! Keep the change.
Buy yourself a drink, old chap.
Two drinks if necessary.
With the compliments of one of Her Majesty's Counsel, learned in the law.
It's a hap-hap-happy day Toodle-oodle-oodle-oodle-ay Jonson, the jury have reached a verdict with which I entirely agree.
You chose, through your representative, Mr Rumpole, to make an entirely unwarranted attack on a great British sportsman and public figure.
A man who has devoted his life to the reform of youths such as yourself.
Unhappily, you have proved to be quite unreformable.
You will be detained for five years.
Take him down.
Bowled out, Bonnie Bernard, by the bloody umpire! (Types away furiously) Excuse me, sir.
Thank you.
(Claude) Rumpole! Hello there, dear old Rumpole.
- You've read "The Times" today? - No, I've had other things on my mind.
The silk list.
I shall be leading you.
I shall be sitting in front of you.
Well, after today's result, I probably deserve it.
It's gone.
Thank you, Henry.
I said nothing, it not being my place to advise staff on such matters.
Yes.
No doubt she understood my feelings and now we have Miss Clapton's nose in a state of decency.
- That's another problem solved.
- My sole success! Oh, Erskine-Brown, congratulations.
Thank you.
It seems that gravitas is no longer called for.
No, I meant your wife.
You must be very proud.
- What about Philly? - Haven't you seen the front page? No, I was only looking for the silk list.
Good heavens! Well, she never told me.
She never told anyone, not even her clerk.
Oh, Portia, how thou art translated! So that's what she meant when she said she was leaving the Bar.
(Clerk) Silence in court! All stand! If your ladyship pleases Yes, Mr Erskine-Brown? Your ladyship has, of course, with your ladyship's usual firm judgment, put your finger upon the very nub of this case.
Mr Erskine-Brown, if you have a point, please get to it.
(Phone rings) Yes? Yes, Rumpole speaking.
Oh, Detective Sergeant Appleby.
No, no, I don't mind you ringing late.
Hilda! Ssh, Rumpole, I'm meant to be asleep! You were right about the fingerprints.
They found one! Hilda, are you awake? I am now.
Thumbprint from someone sent down for robbery with violence many years ago, who drives for the great cricketer and reforms the young, Fred Bry.
It was Fred Bry who entered our premises by night.
You know what this means, don't you? It means the case of Joby Jonson is not entirely over! In which case, I'm very glad I had that burglar alarm installed.
Good night, Rumpole.
- Hilda - Yes? - Are you still awake? - Yes, unfortunately.
Thank you for insisting about chasing up those fingerprints, Hilda.
It just goes to show how important it is to have a woman on the case.
- What? - I can hear you, Hilda, you.
(Loud slam) Rumpole! - What is it now? - There's someone in the flat.
- Yes, we are.
We usually are at night.
- Ssh! Don't shush me! I didn't start this conversation! - Don't you hear? - Hear what? - Sounds.
- Be not afraid, Hilda.
The flat is full of noises, sounds and sweet airs that delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about thine ears and sometimes voices that if I then had waked after long sleep will make me sleep again I hope! No doubt one of your business associates.
- What do you mean? - A burglar! Why don't you go and find out what he's after? - No need to disturb the fella.
- Are you afraid? There is no burglar.
You've been dreaming.
- Prove it.
- I can't.
I'm asleep.
Or is that a job you'd rather leave to a woman? (Footsteps) Oh! All right, guv, it's a fair cop! Just like you to make a joke out of burglars! The TV set still seems to be with us.
- Did you leave that window open? - Yes.
No.
I can't remember.
I'd make a terrible witness! Ah! - That is odd.
- What is? My brief for the Queen versus Joby Jonson.
No one's stolen that.
- No, but - But what? I left it in my briefcase.
Somebody's been at it.
That's not my bow! It isn't how I leave a brief I was working on.
Chequebook, Mrs O'Thingummy's money untouched.
- There's nothing missing.
- Something is.
What? Proof of evidence of Joby Jonson, alleged robber of pensioners.
His statement of defence, such as it was, has melted into air, into thin air.
So somebody WAS here? Yes, you're usually right, of course.
Somebody was.
Any sort of news in the paper, Philly? Some sort of news.
War in Bulgaria, earthquakes in South America, new threat of global warming.
No, I mean important news.
The list of the new QCs, for instance.
Ah, well Look for yourself.
No.
No, I don't want to look for myself, Philly.
I'm not brave enough to look for myself.
I don't think I could put up with another disappointment.
"The list of new Queen's Counsel will be announced next month.
"It's expected to include" Me? "Tabitha Merryweather, the brilliant Ghanaian women's civil rights lawyer.
" - Nothing to say I'll get it.
- You've asked often enough! - Only five times.
- You'll probably get it for persistence.
- We all know you got it first time.
- Bit of a fluke actually.
No, not a fluke.
It's because you're a woman.
Doin' your fitness classes, is you, Joby? Getting into shape to beat up someone else's granny? Brave boy.
Goin' three rounds with an old lady - I never.
- Are you arguin' with us, boy? I haven't been convicted.
Oh, he's innocent! Hear that, Snouty? They got you down as a granny basher.
Do you wanna argue? Not here with you, Snouty.
Just in court.
My brief's gonna get me off.
Oh, leave it out, will you? You put your hands up in court.
You've got no alternative.
Trust us, sunshine.
You've got no better brief than we are.
- Ah, Erskine-Brown.
- Ballard.
Your name cropped up when I was speaking to old Keith from the Lord Chancellor's office.
Did it, Ballard? Did it really? He was interested in my views, as Head of Chambers, on your application for silk.
Interested? Was he really interested? They're taking my application seriously? Naturally.
Keith was saying it's become an annual event.
Like Christmas! You mean they look forward to it? Let's say they give it their serious consideration and I was able to let him have my views, fairly fully.
Thank you very much, Ballard.
Yes.
I said I did not think there would be any repetition of the incidents in which you'd been involved in, such as the complaint lodged by our new typist, Miss Clapton.
You told Keith from the Lord Chancellor's department about Dot? Yes.
I felt it was my duty.
Evidence the Lord Chancellor might have to consider of your lack of gravitas.
- My lack of what? - Bottom.
It might indicate that you are not fundamentally sound.
You said that to Keith from the Lord Chancellor's department? And I said it in your own best interests.
You pompous prick! - I don't think I heard that.
- Oh, yes, you did.
If you don't know what it means, I suggest you ask Dot Clapton.
It's a view of your character quite commonly held at Number 3 Equity Court.
Pompous what exactly? - What have you done to your face? - Accident.
Oh, yes? Mistook it for an ashtray, did you? That's right, yeah.
We can help you complain to the Governor.
Leave it out.
You leave it out an' all! You want to get me killed or something? No, strange as it may seem, Joby, we're trying to get you off! Now, then "A Mrs Louisa Parsons, aged 75, "living at an end house, No.
1 Pondicherry Road behind Euston Station, "answered a ring at her front door on the morning of October 19th.
"A youth was there who said, 'You still living here? ' and then ran off.
"Later, a person she identifies as the same youth, his face partially covered, "again rang her doorbell, and when she answered it, forced his way in, "punched her in the face and stomach" Charming! "tied her up, kicked her, broke most of the crockery and some of the furniture, "and left with Mrs Parsons' post office savings book with a balance of £5.
79.
"She later identified the defendant Joby Jonson "at an identification parade in Euston nick.
" That is the first time I set my eyes on the old bat, at the ID parade.
Joby, it might be as well when you're giving evidence to resist the temptation to call the victim "an old bat".
It is not likely to endear you to the jury.
Have you got a spare copy of Joby's statement? Mine walked in the night! The defence is an alibi, if you remember.
- You read what I said? - Yes, Joby, of course I did.
Over the last few months it's been my sole bedtime study.
"So far as I can remember" That's a promising start! "At the time Mrs Parsons was attacked, "I was hanging about near the superloo in Euston Station "with three girls who were singing and dancing a bit.
" Mr Bernard says that you was a brilliant brief.
Can't you even get me off on this? I may well be a brilliant brief, Joby, but I am unable to walk on water or transmute base metals into gold.
Nor can I make use of a so-called alibi which ignores the most important evidence! - What's that meant to be then? - Your palm print on Mrs Parsons' door.
Yeah, well I'm not for puttin' me hands up.
As long as that's clear! I don't care what they says! Have you got that? Not exactly the most likeable young man, Mr Rumpole! Mr Bernard, that is the understatement of the year.
Do you know what's deteriorated since the good old, bad old days? The character of our young offenders.
Where have all the Artful Dodgers gone? And where are all those cheerful cockney pickpockets who had thumbs in their waistcoats and said, "Whatcha, me old cock sparrow?" It was a sad day for England when the Artful Dodgers turned into the Joby Jonsons.
- Dot - Yes, Henry? I couldn't have better staff than you.
A senior clerk could not wish for more efficient staff or more pleasant and I've done my best to make you feel at home in Equity Court, but A barristers' chambers is a barristers' chambers.
- Got some criticism of my typing? - Your typing is almost perfection.
- Or the speed I get the fee notes out at? - You get them out at the speed of light.
What I wanted to say was, well Barristers! Some of them are what I suppose you'd call old-fashioned! - (Phone rings) - Old-fashioned? Museum pieces still in Y-fronts and braces! Yeah, hello? (Laughter) Something amusing you, Mr Erskine-Brown? No, no.
Really nothing, Dot.
Honestly.
It's just that Well, I haven't had much to laugh at recently.
That's all.
I say, Dot, congratulations! That's what chambers need - someone to make a statement.
We're not all clones.
We're not all imitation male lawyers in pin-stripes.
We're the sisterhood of free spirits! Are you, Miss Probert? I'm trying to get on with Mr Inchcape's typing.
Dot, a couple more pages of the particulars of negligence.
I'll make them my top priority.
Mr Rumpole, it's the office of the Under-Secretary at the Home Office.
Wonders if you could call in for a brief word? Tell him we'll try and fit him in with my other engagements.
I'll have to call you back when I find a window of time in Mr Rumpole's diary.
- Henry - Yes, Mr Ballard? I'm calling a chambers meeting on a most serious situation.
I hope you will all be able to attend.
I don't know.
Depends on my business with Her Majesty's Government.
Tom Mottram, Under-Secretary, Home Affairs, with special responsibility for prisons.
I try to keep them in! Horace Rumpole, counsel for the defence.
I try to keep them out! Very good.
Wasn't that good? Elspeth Dodds, Parliamentary Private Secretary.
- Hello.
- Do come and sit down, Mr Rumpole.
You may have wondered why I asked you to drop by.
Please Thank you.
It's about a young lad called Joby Jonson.
Oh, really? I'm a constituency MP.
I hope a good one.
I've had Joby Jonson's mother at my surgery week in, week out, poor woman.
- She really is quite distracted.
- I expect she is.
I told her I'd see he was properly defended.
I'm delighted you're appearing for him.
You'll see he doesn't make things worse by putting up some stupid defence.
- Can I tell her he's well looked after? - Yes, he's having the time of his life! Banged up for 23 hours a day in a seven-foot cell with a couple of chamber pots and a sworn enemy who passes the time by stubbing cigarettes out on his face.
And, of course, Joby Jonson is entirely innocent.
Innocent? That's interesting.
Is that your view? As innocent as we all are until 12 fellow citizens come back into court and tell him he's guilty.
You're giving us your courtroom performance.
Good.
Isn't it, Elspeth? Very good indeed.
I was trying to point out the conditions endured by prisoners on remand.
Oh, worse than 100 years ago.
We know that.
Don't we, Elspeth? Only too well.
And our minister would be the first to agree with you.
Then why doesn't he do something about it? Unfortunately, we live in a democracy.
We listen to the instructions of our masters with the votes.
So we leave prison reform to the private sector.
People like you.
- And Seb Pilgrim.
- Who? You don't know Seb? He runs YERT.
Runs what? Youth Enterprise Reform Trust.
You must've heard of Sir Sebastian Pilgrim.
He's a splendid fellow.
He carried his bat for England.
He does wonderful things with hopeless cases like Joby Jonson.
Teaches them cricket, gives them pride in themselves, reforms their characters.
- You two should get together.
- Do you think so? I've never carried my bat for anywhere.
(Alarm goes off) Hilda! What's wrong? Is there an air raid? Don't be silly.
It's perfectly simple.
You just press 34896 and the yellow button and you see it's quiet immediately.
What else have you installed? Death rays, man traps? Will you sit in the kitchen all night with a double-barrelled shotgun? You have to give the criminal classes a chance to earn a living! - Oh, hello.
- Good afternoon, Mr Rumpole.
Kensington CID, DS Appleby.
Your wife called us in again.
Seems the villains have turned against you.
Been losing their cases, sir? Very amusing.
I insisted Mr Appleby came to look for fingerprints.
- Tea, Mr Appleby? - Thank you.
A very thorough investigator.
She knows my job better than I do.
Yes, Mrs Rumpole is one of nature's detective superintendents.
Don't worry about it.
Almost certainly a professional wearing gloves.
And didn't take anything of value? Just some of your papers? Who'd be interested in that? (Phone rings) I've been wondering about that myself.
Hello? Yes, Rumpole speaking.
What? Sir Sebastian Pilgrim wants a word with me? What about? Joby Jonson? Yes, all right.
Join the queue.
- A pompous prick? - I called him that.
Our Head of Chambers.
And the next table was full of solicitors.
That was the most persuasive and accurately phrased speech you ever made down the Old Bailey, and the shortest.
He told Keith that I have no bottom.
He's got enough for both of you.
That I wasn't fundamentally sound.
I should tell the Lord Chancellor a few home truths about our leader.
The fact that he's a smarmy, hypocritical, God-bothering vegetarian? No, the time for action has come, the hour of decision.
Oh Philly, what does that mean exactly? It means, Claude, I am on the case.
Mr Rumpole? - That's me.
- I'm Fred Bry.
I've come to take you to Sir Sebastian Pilgrim.
Thank you.
Yours, Mr Rumpole! - No, I'm sure it's yours.
- Fancy a go at the wicket? Not in the least.
I'm allergic to any form of sport.
Except for teasing Her Majesty's judges.
You're very famous among our lads.
- You're not allergic to a drink, I hope? - I thought you'd never ask! I'm sorry, Mr Rumpole.
The lads have voted this a smoke-free zone.
What are you running here? A monastery? Very funny.
Delightful wit.
That's what old Tom Mottram told me about you.
No, I don't make the rules.
The boys do.
Self-discipline is the name of the game.
- I thought it was cricket! - No alcohol, no smoking.
And if anyone is found dropping an E - A what? - Ecstasy.
Anyone indulging in any sort of drug gets a hard time from the other fellas.
It's no good imposing rules from above.
How's the coffee? I'm afraid we're not up to your gastronomic standards.
We have more important things to think about.
Yes, like Joby Jonson.
Ah, yes, Joby.
I must admit I'm worried about Joby.
Most people seem to be.
What we find here is that the first step to reform is to admit to what you've done.
- If only to your mates.
- Plead guilty? Even if you only admit it to yourself.
Look over there, what we call our quiet corner.
- What is it, a prayer meeting? - Yeah, something like that.
The lads over there are coming out with all their crime, they talk it through, and Fred tells them where that leads.
- Your driver? - And Fred should know.
He'd done six years for robbery when I took him on.
So you believe confession's good for the soul? - Don't you? - Oh, perhaps.
It's not much good at keeping you out of the nick.
If you could just get him to admit what he's done, if only to himself, to face up to it and not to tell any silly lies, it could be the beginning of his way back to reality.
Or the beginning of about five years in chokey! He's come here often.
He's had his talking sessions with Fred and the others.
I just don't want to write him off as one of my failures.
- I'm sure we want what's best for him.
- I'm sure.
Tell me, what can I do to help? Well, I could call you as a character witness.
More impressive than a shrink or the vicar.
"I call Sir Sebastian Pilgrim who carried his bat for England.
" You can count on me, Mr Rumpole.
You can count on me.
You were talking about Joby? You and Seb? Oh, erm, yes, we were.
Yes.
A big disappointment to us, Joby.
Terrible disappointment.
We did our best with Joby - Seb and me.
We both tried hard.
So, it's over to you now, Mr Rumpole.
Get the boy to own up to what he's done.
It's the only way.
Certain standards of civilisation have to be kept at Equity Court.
We couldn't have people turning up in war paint.
No, Sam.
You're absolutely right.
Thank you very much, Mrs Erskine-Brown.
- I don't see why not.
- What, Rumpole? I don't see why not! I'm all for anything that adds drama to the surroundings! If you'd come in this morning wearing war paint, waving an assegai on your way to a bloody summons Rumpole, we are at something of a crisis in Equity Court! We could be off down the slippery slope towards What? - Suede shoes.
- What? There are men in Miles Crudgington's set who go into chambers in suede shoes.
- Shock, horror! - You see where this can lead to! Yes, Sam, that is the most terrible warning.
I agree with you, Ballard.
100°% .
Dot was making an unacceptable statement of female submission.
It was nothing but a kind of harem signal to any would-be sheikh foolish enough to take her up on the offer.
Dot's nose, not to put too fine a point on it, is politically incorrect.
Erskine-Brown, do you not have an opinion on this? I don't imagine I have enough bottom to express an opinion.
- Enough what? - Gravitas.
- Ballard doesn't think I've got enough.
- Gravitas? Sounds like a breakfast food! Sorry, must be off.
Can't spend any more time on this discussion, fascinating though it may be! I suggest we leave all further action in this matter to our Head of Chambers.
I'm sure Sam will deal with it with his usual wisdom.
- Are you feeling quite well, Portia? - Perfectly well.
I'm positive Sam can be trusted to have a tactful word in the appropriate quarter, can't you, Sam? Oh, Inchcape! You You didn't say what you thought about the rich ornament in Dorothea Clapton's nostril.
To be honest, I never even noticed it was there.
- Did you not? - No.
How very interesting.
Hello, Dot.
I just popped in to see what's on for tomorrow.
I wanted your advice.
I don't have any opinion.
I suppose it does add a touch of colour to chambers.
- What adds colour? - Nothing in particular.
About my dad.
He lives not far from here actually.
I thought you and Henry hailed from Bexleyheath.
My mum lives there.
They split up when I was seven.
- I'm sorry to hear that.
- It wasn't a great tragedy.
My dad's an awkward customer.
Calling him bloody-minded is a compliment! They want to do a new development down his street, but he won't sell his house.
Tells them he's too old to move, tells them to sod off! Well, that's property law, Dot.
It's hardly my "specialité de la maison".
If he had committed a murder Perhaps he will if they go on asking him to sell up! They send people round telling him he's got to move.
They ring on his doorbell all hours.
It must be highly irritating.
Where does he live exactly? - MacGlinty Terrace.
- Oh, yes.
Round behind Euston Station.
Do you know the area? I think I might do, yes.
You were superb today, Sam.
- Thank you, Mrs Erskine-Brown.
- Phyllida.
- Yes, of course.
Phyllida.
- Think nothing of it.
What I admired was how you dominated the proceedings, yet everything was fun.
I try to make our meetings enjoyable.
And you succeed.
I suppose it's just your personality.
Really? All these years that you and I have been the only two silks in chambers, do you know, we've never had lunch together? - Doesn't that strike you as strange? - No.
Not really.
You're a member of Inner Temple, I'm at Gray's Inn, so we never had lunch in the same place.
Sam, why don't you invite me? All right then, Phyllida.
I will.
There's a very nice health food bar in Fetter Lane.
Oh, that doesn't sound terribly romantic to me.
- What about the Savoy Grill? - The Savoy Grill? That's the one.
I thought you'd never ask! There's a profile of one of your friends here.
You ought to be proud of him.
- What friend is that? - Not one of your criminal classes.
Not one of your burglars who entered by the fire escape to rob us.
This is someone to be proud of.
You might invite him to dinner.
Invite who to dinner? Sir Sebastian Pilgrim, one-time all-rounder for England.
Spends much of his time trying to reform young criminals.
You don't do that.
- That isn't your sort of thing.
- Neither is cricket.
He's also a brilliant businessman, Chairman of Maiden Over Holdings.
Seb told his shareholders, "I believe in England.
" Good for him.
I suppose the rest of us think it's a figment of our imagination! He was in partnership with Tom Mottram until Mr Mottram joined the government.
They're planning to build a multi-storey hotel and shopping centre.
Tom Mottram! Do they say where this monstrous carbuncle is to be dumped? - Are you thinking of investing? - Perhaps a little of my time.
Behind Euston Station.
I've been away such a lot doing these boring big cases all over the world, - I didn't realise what I was missing.
- What were you missing? Well, to be honest, Sam, my Head of Chambers.
- The Head? - Well, in a word, you.
I do think about you quite a lot when I'm all alone in places like Hong Kong.
You think about me in Hong Kong? - You don't mind? - No, Mrs Erskine-Brown.
Phyllida.
You can think about whoever you like, but I've never been to Hong Kong.
Oh, yes, you have.
In my thoughts.
Really? I didn't know.
Sam, I can see you've had lots of practice chatting up women over lunch.
Not really, no.
I quite often send Miss Clapton out for sandwiches.
I've asked Henry to have a tactful word with her about the subject we discussed.
- Her nose? - Yes, exactly.
Splendid.
Takes a real man to act as decisively as that.
Claude believes he might do better with the Lord Chancellor if he were a woman.
- I think that's very silly.
- So do I.
- Claude couldn't possibly be a woman.
- He'd find it very difficult.
He should settle down to being himself.
I think that's what he's afraid of.
He said you had a chat about his application with dear old Keith.
Yes, he didn't seem too pleased.
He used an expression I couldn't repeat in a public place.
Yes, he called you a pom Phyllida, Phyllida! Pas devant le waiter! - Is this champagne? - Of course it is.
- Did I order it? - Of course you did.
I think you wanted to celebrate the fact that we're going out together at long, long last.
Causes a rather curious sensation in the nose.
Forgive Claude.
He had a deprived childhood.
That's the sort of language chaps pick up at Winchester! Hmm! You, erm You didn't think he ought to take silk? In his own best interests, Phyllida.
You're fibbing.
You were thinking entirely of me.
- Was I? - You thought I'd get less leading briefs with Claude competing, hmm? Look, I want to be entirely honest with you, now we've become real friends.
Do you? Of course I do.
And I want you to be the first to know.
I shan't be looking for leading briefs in future.
- You shan't? - I'm leaving the Bar.
- Phyllida! - For good.
I've made up my mind.
Don't look so sad.
I'm not leaving the country.
We'll still be able to meet.
And you know what might make it really easy for me? Easy? If Claude were away in, let's say, Hong Kong, doing leading briefs for long periods of time, you and I could have lunch together.
You'd like that, wouldn't you? Yes, Phyllida, I believe I would.
Well, look, do me a small favour.
Help us both.
How? Just pick up the phone to dear old Keith in the Lord Chancellor's office.
Tell him there is no objection to Claude being wrapped in silk, even if he's a man.
That would make it easier and help you and Claude? It would help you and me, Sam, considerably.
Here's to us both.
Regina versus Jonson coming up next, Mr Rumpole.
- Yes, indeed.
- Doesn't look like a winner.
No, and be warned, Mr Bernard.
We are up against one of the most subtle tacticians - the "artfullest" dodger down the Old Bailey.
- Who's that, Mr Rumpole? - Mrs Phyllida Erskine-Brown, QC.
The Portia of our chambers.
A silk to prosecute.
They're putting us up before the red judge.
I heard a whisper our boy was getting star treatment.
Mugging is the flavour of the month.
The powers that be want to show they're all terribly concerned.
Never despair, there are still a few things we can do.
- Such as? - Just routine enquiries.
Here you are.
There! Get in touch with a Mr Clapton of MacGlinty Terrace.
That's round near Euston Station.
See how far that is from Pondicherry Road, would you? Oh, and discover everything you can about these people.
What, Maiden Over Holdings? Maiden Over Holdings, yes.
And any estate agents that they might employ.
Oh, and while we're still on the subject of young Dawkins And Dawkins.
Dawkins? Who's Dawkins, Mr Rumpole? Oh, John Dawkins, the original Artful Dodger.
Let us not forget that he was part of a much wider organisation being run from old Fagin's thieves' kitchen.
Have you had much experience with this judge, Portia? Graves? No, never been before him.
Have you? To my deep regret.
(Clerk) Silence in court! All stand! (Rumpole) Mr "Injustice" Graves is an absolute four-letter man! He's humourless, tedious, unsympathetic and unjust.
In a word, our judge is a complete pain in the fundament! Mr Rumpole, it may come as a surprise to you to know that the acoustics in this court are absolutely perfect and my hearing is exceptionally keen.
And I can hear absolutely every word that is spoken on counsels' benches.
See what I mean? Henry! It's still there.
I saw it this morning, the undesirable ornament.
You were going to speak to Miss Clapton.
Didn't the meeting decide you would do that? Yes, and I deputed the task to you, Henry.
No, sir, that is well outside clerking duties.
It's not for me to make personal remarks to valued staff.
Very well, I shall have to do it myself, but not now.
I'm due before the recorder in ten minutes.
- Is Mrs Erskine-Brown in this court? - Yes, prosecuting Mr Rumpole.
I expect she'd appreciate it if I popped my head in and said "good morning".
We say that Jonson viciously attacked this lady, old enough to be his grandmother, and robbed her of what were no doubt her small lifetime's savings.
Five pounds seventy-nine pence.
Did you say something, Mr Rumpole? I was just reminding my learned friend that the amount concerned is £5.
79.
Mr Rumpole, I have no doubt we shall be hearing from you later.
Now I think we might let Mrs Erskine-Brown open her case without any more frivolous interruptions.
Yes, Mrs Erskine-Brown? Yes Mrs Erskine-Brown? It remains to be seen what sort of defence, if any, will be put forward for Jonson.
It is alleged that while this appalling attack was taking place, Jonson was dancing with some girls from Manchester outside the superloo at Euston Station.
What is a superloo exactly? It is, I believe, my lord, a kind of superior lavatory.
A kind of SUPERIOR lavatory, hmm 'MacGlinty Terrace, there we are, turning off Pondicherry Road.
' Right behind Euston Station! - Did you say something, Mr Rumpole? - Nothing more at the moment, my lord.
Some weeks later, Mrs Parsons, did you attend an identification parade? I did.
The police officers were kind and made me a cup of tea.
Did you identify the youth who visited you twice on the 19th and attacked you the second time? - There he is.
- You are pointing to Joby Jonson.
Thank you, Mrs Parsons.
I managed to get copies of the letters to your friend Mr Clapton.
Not a friend.
Just the father of a friend.
Thank you.
I suppose you have questions, Mr Rumpole? Mrs Parsons, do you own your little house in Pondicherry Road? My husband saved for it.
He was a booking clerk at the station.
Were you not offered a lot of money for that house? I wasn't going to move, no matter how often they asked me.
Now, Mrs Parsons, you say that on that morning, a young man rang at your front door and said, "Are you still living here, Mrs Parsons?" Yes, he did.
Did you think there was any connection with the repeated requests to sell your house? - Not at the time, no.
- My lord, the witness can't speculate.
We should leave such flights of fancy to my learned friend.
My sentiments entirely.
Move on to the next matter, Mr Rumpole.
Nice one, Portia.
You've got him eating out of your hand! Mr Rumpole I didn't hear that.
Did you not, my lord? Must be the acoustics.
Mrs Parsons, later that day, a young man rang at your door, then he attacked you.
I heard the bell and thought, "He's back.
I'll give him a piece of my mind!" You weren't frightened when you answered the door? Not then, no.
I was when I saw him, though.
Oh.
Why? He had this What do they call it? "Ballycava" A balaclava, yes.
Yes, you say in your statement that the caller's face was hidden.
It was hidden a bit, yes.
Well, Mrs Parsons, how do you know it was the same boy? Right, Joby, confession time.
Confession is good for the soul, they say.
Admit it.
Somebody told you to go to Mrs Parsons' house and say, "Are you still living here, Mrs Parsons?" And scarper.
- What did you do in the afternoon? - I told you.
Yes, for once, I believe you.
Dropping an E you bought from some girls from Manchester, which led to some unseemly folk dancing outside the superloo in Euston Station.
And doubtless a horrible reaction of shivering, thirst, and a certain loss of memory.
How comes you know so much about doing an E? How come Mr Rumpole knows about everything? I know you went to that house in the morning.
Your palm print was on the door.
Mrs Parsons saw you and picked you out.
I know you didn't go there in the afternoon because the group you work for were so desperate to find out our defence, they burgled my flat.
They're scared you'll tell the truth that another lad came after you and did the serious business.
You'll have to tell the truth before this case is over.
What's this group you're on about? Don't you play games with me, sunshine.
You know perfectly well who I mean.
- You are Sir Sebastian Pilgrim? - I am.
And needing no introduction to us, I'm sure.
At least not to those who witnessed your century against Pakistan at Lord's in your final test.
I have no doubt the jury remember.
And do you run an organisation called The Youth Enterprise And Reform Trust, allegedly to help young men who have fallen into criminal ways? Once again, Sir Sebastian, your wonderful work with YERT is well known.
I do run that organisation to help delinquent boys.
I don't know why Mr Rumpole says "allegedly".
No doubt a slip of the tongue.
Wasn't it? Not exactly, my lord, no.
If I may go on, my meaning will become clear.
Are you also the Chairman of Maiden Over Holdings which plans a development behind Euston Station - of a large hotel and a shopping centre? - I am.
Weren't you having trouble with certain householders who refused to sell their homes to you to make way for this magnificent development? - No particular trouble.
- Were you not? Usher! Do you employ, among others, a firm of estate agents called Jebber & Jonas? The name's familiar.
- Do you employ them or not? - From time to time.
Is that a letter from Jebber & Jonas to a Mr Peter Clapton of MacGlinty Terrace, asking him to sell his home to make way for a new development? - It would appear to be so.
- Was that your hotel development? I don't know anyone else with similar plans.
Perhaps no one else is so anxious to invest in the future of this great city.
And was a Mrs Parsons of Pondicherry Road another householder who refused to sell her house to your company? - I really don't remember.
- Do try.
In any event, I'm sure she was made a very fair offer.
Sir Sebastian, do you hold the view that delinquents should admit what they have done? Yes, I believe that is the start of reform.
Do you want Joby Jonson to tell the truth about this case? Yes.
Very well.
He came to your club after having been in trouble over some minor matters? Yes.
My lord, I thought there was some good in the lad.
I hoped he might be a useful spin bowler.
Not so useful as you, Sir Sebastian, if we remember the Australian wickets in 1975! Went down like ninepins, members of the jury! And a useful messenger to send around about your company's business.
- Of course not.
- Why not, Sir Sebastian? I don't wish to be unkind, but Joby's not the brightest lad, not a boy you could trust with any business.
What sort of boy would you trust? I don't know what you mean.
Who did you choose to terrorise Mrs Parsons into selling her house to you? What? Isn't that the sort of job you offer to enterprising young men? That is an absolutely ridiculous suggestion.
There's no truth in it at all! Mr Rumpole, confine yourself to questions about your client's character.
Delighted, my lord.
Always anxious to please.
Well, I'm glad we can agree about some things.
Joby Jonson's talents are strictly limited.
Good enough perhaps to send round before lunch with a final warning, but the afternoon attack had to be done by another protégé in a balaclava helmet! Mr Rumpole, this is quite intolerable if you persist in trying to involve this distinguished gentleman in the terrible crime of which your client stands accused.
That is not how we play the game in these courts.
I'm so sorry, my lord.
I have never entirely understood the rules of cricket! Oh, Dot! Give my regards to your dad.
Tell him he's been a great help.
- Are you going to win? - I have hopes, dare I say, great hopes! Tell him to watch out for young men in balaclava helmets.
I reckon Dad can look after himself.
- Good, good.
By the way, Dot - Yes, Mr Rumpole? We had a meeting about that ornament in your nose.
- You never? - Yes, we did.
Nothing much was decided, but Dave Inchcape - Yes, Mr Rumpole? - He said he'd never even noticed it.
Oh, Phyllida, I did it a couple of weeks ago.
Congratulations.
Did what exactly? Spoke to Keith from the Lord Chancellor's office.
I told him that recently Claude had been showing a good deal of gravitas.
- How about bottom? - Quite a lot of that too.
Good.
I'm glad you put that right.
- Phyllida Phyllida! - Hmm? So how about lunch? Honestly, it really is very nice in the health food bar and there's a little corner table.
I wouldn't have to send a taxi back to chambers like last time for an extra sub from petty cash! Sorry, Ballard, I'm going to be too busy for lunches out in the foreseeable future.
Could I just glance at "The Times"? Oh, I say! Fabulous day! Absolutely fabulous! Keep the change.
Buy yourself a drink, old chap.
Two drinks if necessary.
With the compliments of one of Her Majesty's Counsel, learned in the law.
It's a hap-hap-happy day Toodle-oodle-oodle-oodle-ay Jonson, the jury have reached a verdict with which I entirely agree.
You chose, through your representative, Mr Rumpole, to make an entirely unwarranted attack on a great British sportsman and public figure.
A man who has devoted his life to the reform of youths such as yourself.
Unhappily, you have proved to be quite unreformable.
You will be detained for five years.
Take him down.
Bowled out, Bonnie Bernard, by the bloody umpire! (Types away furiously) Excuse me, sir.
Thank you.
(Claude) Rumpole! Hello there, dear old Rumpole.
- You've read "The Times" today? - No, I've had other things on my mind.
The silk list.
I shall be leading you.
I shall be sitting in front of you.
Well, after today's result, I probably deserve it.
It's gone.
Thank you, Henry.
I said nothing, it not being my place to advise staff on such matters.
Yes.
No doubt she understood my feelings and now we have Miss Clapton's nose in a state of decency.
- That's another problem solved.
- My sole success! Oh, Erskine-Brown, congratulations.
Thank you.
It seems that gravitas is no longer called for.
No, I meant your wife.
You must be very proud.
- What about Philly? - Haven't you seen the front page? No, I was only looking for the silk list.
Good heavens! Well, she never told me.
She never told anyone, not even her clerk.
Oh, Portia, how thou art translated! So that's what she meant when she said she was leaving the Bar.
(Clerk) Silence in court! All stand! If your ladyship pleases Yes, Mr Erskine-Brown? Your ladyship has, of course, with your ladyship's usual firm judgment, put your finger upon the very nub of this case.
Mr Erskine-Brown, if you have a point, please get to it.
(Phone rings) Yes? Yes, Rumpole speaking.
Oh, Detective Sergeant Appleby.
No, no, I don't mind you ringing late.
Hilda! Ssh, Rumpole, I'm meant to be asleep! You were right about the fingerprints.
They found one! Hilda, are you awake? I am now.
Thumbprint from someone sent down for robbery with violence many years ago, who drives for the great cricketer and reforms the young, Fred Bry.
It was Fred Bry who entered our premises by night.
You know what this means, don't you? It means the case of Joby Jonson is not entirely over! In which case, I'm very glad I had that burglar alarm installed.
Good night, Rumpole.
- Hilda - Yes? - Are you still awake? - Yes, unfortunately.
Thank you for insisting about chasing up those fingerprints, Hilda.
It just goes to show how important it is to have a woman on the case.