All language subtitles for S1E1 - Rumpole and the younger generation H.264 from PAL DVD (moviesbyrizzo)

(Distant train passes)

Seven o'clock Friday, they bring the
money out and walk to the van, here.

(Second boy) The butcher's shop's here,
opposite the church.

(Third boy) Only two old geezers with
all that money. Who's doing the tyres?

(First boy) We can hide
anywhere in here.

(Air hisses)

(Coughs)

(Man) Wait! Hey! Oh, no, you don't!

- (Boy) Let go!
- Ah, you won't get that from me, chum!

(Yells and bangs)

No! You won't have it from me, boy!

Right! Got it!

(Whistle)

(Rumpole) "But trailing clouds
of glory do we come

"From God, who is our home

"Heaven lies about us in our infancy!

"Shades of the prison-house
begin to close

- "Around the growing Boy"
- Rumpole!

You're not talking about your son,
I hope! You're never referring to Nick.

What? "Shades of the prison-house
begin to close"? No, not round our boy.

Not Nick. Shades of the public-school
house have closed round him.

The 1,000 quid-a-year remand home!

He is breaking up this morning.

Ah! Shades of the prison-house
begin to open up for the hols!

Nick has to be met at Victoria at 11:15
and given lunch.

When he went back to school,
you promised him a show.

- You haven't forgotten?
- Of course I haven't!

The only show I can offer
is a robbery with violence,

number two court at the Old Bailey.

Oh, I wish it was a murder!
Nick so enjoyed my murders.

I must fly! Daddy gets so crotchety
if anybody's late

and he does love his visits!

Our father who art in Horsham...
Give the old sweetheart my regards.

"Old sweetheart" is hardly the way you
used to refer to your Head of Chambers.

It's difficult to remember to call
my Head of Chambers "Daddy".

(Woman hollers) Tell Nick I'll be back
in time to give him his supper!

Your wish is my command!

(Woman) Try not to make the kitchen
look as if it's been bombed!

I hear, oh, Master of the Blue Horizon!

(Door slams)

She Who Must Be Obeyed.

Ah!

(Doors clank)

Son!

- Dad!
- Hello, son!

Got special permission to see you,
you being a lad of tender years.

You've got to know the ropes here.

- Mum all right, is she?
- Of course she is. Come over here.

She's got your best jacket
out the cleaners. Take that off.

Now, remember, stand up straight,
hands out of your pockets.

The red judge at the Old Bailey
is called My Lord.

Don't call him Sir or Your Honour.

Don't show your ignorance.

Peanuts Molloy is giving evidence
for the prosecution.

Don't worry. Your brief will take care
of him. We got you the best there is.

Mr Rumpole?

Remember, stand up straight and do
what Mr Rumpole says. Good luck!

We're all out there. The whole family's
behind you. Don't forget that tie!

Yes, right you are, then!

Oh, we've got your indecent-assault
papers, Mr Erskine-Brown.

Really, Albert? I told you I wanted
something civil. I'm sick of crime.

A person who's sick of crime
is sick of life!

Mr Frobisher, you're doing
your nuisance at Bloomsbury court.

- Civil work! That's what I need.
- It's marked not before two o'clock.

I can see that. One has to hang about
so to do a nuisance nowadays.

I shall go to the library, Albert,
to look up some law. Morning, Rumpole.

- Hello, George!
- Coming to the library?

The library? I'd rather spend the day
in the morgue, old man!

- Anything for me?
- No, Mr Maclay. Another day off for you!

Ah! Your "dangerous and careless"
is on the mantelpiece, Mr Hoskins.

- No cheques, I suppose, Albert?
- Not today, Mr Hoskins. Henry!

Mr Tree? You want me at
Clerkenwell Court with Mr Hoskins?

We don't want you near any court!
Not till we've learnt to clean our nails

and shine our shoes of a morning.
You could make me a cup of instant.

(Mutters) I didn't go into law
to make coffee!

No! No cheques for me either.

You know the saying,
"crime doesn't pay".

Well, not for a very long time!

Tony, if you're not busy,
why don't you join me at the Bailey?

- You can take a note or something.
- You wouldn't mind?

I'd be grateful. Where are we, Albert?

The robbery's 11:30,
court number two, before Everglade.

- Mr Guthrie Featherstone against you.
- Oh, agin me, Featherstone!

Apparently! I had an all-night sitting
down at the House last night.

Your robbery won't be much of a worry.

Oh, no, except perhaps
to young Jim Timson.

Oh, Albert, Mrs Rumpole's gone down
to see her father in... er... Horsham.

My aunt had a whore shop in Teasham!

- How is Wystan? Any better?
- No, just about the same, Uncle Tom.

- And how's young Nicky?
- Oh, splendid. Ah! Nick!

Albert, he's breaking up today. He'll need
meeting at Victoria at 11:15

and if you bring him along, he can watch
some of the robbery in number two.

Your son's going to be in the audience,
is he? I'd better be brilliant.

I wouldn't bother.
It's his old dad he's come to see.

(Scornful laugh) Touch�, Rumpole,
Distinctement touch�!

(Rumpole) Better get down to the Bailey!
- I'll walk with you.

Won't you need a stretcher
after an all-night sitting

with the Gas-Mains Enabling Bill,
or whatever?

- Tony, see you later on.
- Oh, right.

(Frantic typing and phones ringing)

- You've been at this a while, Rumpole.
- Oh, yes, quite a while.

(Rumpole huffs)

You never thought of taking silk?

What? Rumpole, QC? Not on your nelly!

Rumpole "Queer Customer", that's what
they'd be bound to call me.

You could, with your seniority.

- (Man) Morning.
- Morning!

Oh, I dare say... if I played golf
with the right judges,

put up for Parliament.
They might make me an artificial silk

or, at any rate, a nylon.

Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot.
You did put up for Parliament.

Yes.

- You've never thought of it?
- No, never!

I have the honour to be an Old Bailey
hack! That's quite enough for me.

Lord Attlee dies!

(Rumpole) 'In Newgate Street
the City Fathers

'a stately law court did decree,

'and... there it is.

'The dome and the blindfold lady.

'Yes, well, it's much better she doesn't
see all that's going on.

'Complete with murals, marble statues

'and underground accommodation for
some of the choicest villains in London.

'Terrible things go on here.
Horrifying things!

'Why is it I never go through these
portals without a thrill of pleasure,

'a slight tremble of excitement?

'A slight tremble of excitement?

'Why does it always seem a much jollier
place than my flat in Gloucester Road,

'under the strict rule
of She Who Must Be Obeyed? '

- Morning, Harry!
- Morning, gentlemen!

I'll have to give up, I'll have to give up,
you know. Crocked up, I'm afraid!

Oh, nonsense, Daddy,
you'll go on for years!

No, Hilda, no. They'll have to start
looking for another Head of Chambers.

Rumpole's the senior man,

that is, apart from Uncle Tom and
he doesn't really practise nowadays.

Your husband the senior man,
how time flies!

I recall when he was the junior man,
my pupil.

You said he was the best youngster
on bloodstains you'd ever known.

Rumpole? Oh, yes. Your husband
was pretty good on bloodstains.

Shaky, though, on the law
of landlord and tenant.

What sort of practice has he now?

Oh, he has a tremendously busy
practice! Rumpole hardly stops.

- He's in court today.
- Which court?

- I believe today it's... the Old Bailey.
- It's always the Old Bailey, isn't it?

- Most of the time. I suppose so.
- Not a frightfully good address!

Not exactly the SW1
of the legal profession.

Rumpole only went to the Bailey today
because he knows the family.

It seems
they've got a young boy in trouble.

- Son gone wrong?
- Mmm.

Very sad, that. Especially if he comes
of a really good family.

(Voices echo)

(Rumpole) 'Ah, the Timsons,
en famille in all their glory.

'It's like a school reunion. I've never
seen so many ex-clients at one go.'

- Mr Rumpole!
- Ah, Mr Bernard.

- You're instructing me.
- Always in a Timson case!

Nothing but the best for the Timsons!
Best solicitor, best barrister going.

- Shall I do the honours?
- Yes, do.

- Vi, my wife.
- (Rumpole) 'I got Vi off on handling

'after the Croydon bank raid.
There was really no evidence.'

(Fred) Uncle Cyril.

- Long time...
- 'What was his last outing?

'Carrying housebreaking instruments
by night? '

Uncle Dennis.
You remember Den, surely?

(Rumpole) 'Oh, yes. Conspiracy
to forge log books.'

And Den's Doris...

(Rumpole) 'Could it have been receiving
a vast quantity of stolen scampi?

'Yes, acquitted by a majority.'

Yours truly, Frederick Timson, father.

(Rumpole) 'We slipped up with Fred's
last spot of bother. I was away with flu.'

Well, shall we all sit down?

(Rumpole) 'Frobisher took over. He got
three years. Must have just got out.'

(Fred) Now you know
the whole family, Mr Rumpole.

(Rumpole) 'A family to breed from,
or the Bailey would go out of business.'

...from time to time! I'm sure you'll
do your very best for young Jimbo.

He's a good boy. Ever so good
to me while Dad was away.

(Rumpole) 'Head of the family at 14,

'with Dad off on one
of his regular visits to Her Majesty.'

It's young Jim's first appearance,
like, at the Bailey.

(Rumpole) 'His bar mitzvah!
His first Communion.'

All those other boys
got clean away with it!

Well, that's a bit of luck. They can't be
asked if Jimbo was one of the party.

The identification by the butcher
is hopeless.

Would you have a photographic
impression of a young hopeful

that struck you on the skull
with a cricket stump?

All they've really got is Jim's alleged
confession to Peanuts Molloy.

- Peanuts Molloy! Little grass!
- Chalky White fit him up with that!

- Chalky?
- Chief Detective Inspector White.

Why would Inspector White
want to fit up Jimbo?

- Because he's a Timson!
- Because he's the apple of our eye!

Being as how he's the baby
of the family.

Chalky'd fit up his mother if it'd get him
a smile off his superintendent...

- Morning, Fred!
- Morning, Chief Inspector.

- Morning, Mrs Timson.
- Morning, Chief Inspector.

Mr Timson, I think we'll shift our ground.
Remove, good friends!

(Rumpole) Now, then, Mr Timson,

how exactly do you say Chief Inspector
Chalky White fitted up your Jimbo?

- Which is the coffees?
- Ah, thank you, love. Just for me.

All right? That's it. Thank you.

He put that grass Peanuts into Jim's
painting class in the remand home.

I see. So, your Jimbo was supposed
to pour out his heart to Peanuts.

"We..." Thank you.

"We planned to do the old blokes
and snatch the takings."

As if I'd raise Jim to talk like that!
In the nick! The Timsons ain't stupid!

His dad's always told him, say nothing
to anyone inside. Bound to be a grass.

That's right. Fred's always brought him
up proper, eh, Den?

- Just like he should be.
- Especially the Molloys!

- The Molloys!
- They're noted grasses. Always were.

The Molloys is beyond the pale.
Well known for it!

Look, how did this? Hah! How did this
family feud begin exactly?

Peanuts' grandad. He shot my father
over the Streatham Co-op robbery.

- Pre-war, that was.
- Streatham Co-op?

I believe I was in that. There wasn't
much honour shown among thieves.

Then you can understand.

No Timson has even spoke
to a Molloy ever since.

You're sure Jimbo wouldn't say
a word to Peanuts?

I'd give you my word of honour!
Ain't that good enough for you?

No Timson would ever speak to
a Molloy, not under any circumstances!

- No!
- No, never.

- Me, speak to Peanuts?
- (Rumpole) Yes.

No Timson don't speak to no Molloy.
It's a point of honour, like.

Ever since the Streatham Co-op case,
eh? Your grandfather?

- Dad told you about that?
- Yes, Dad told me.

He wouldn't let me speak to no Molloy.
He wouldn't put up with it, like.

Well, Jimbo... what's the defence?

Well, I never done it.

That's an interesting defence.

Somewhat unusual, isn't it?
For the Timsons.

- I've got my alibi, ain't I?
- Ah, yes, your alibi.

- Dad reckoned it was pretty good.
- Yes. Let's hear it again.

(Bernard and Jim) Straight after school...

"Straight after school on that Friday,
June 2nd, I went to tea at my Aunt Doris'

"and arrived there at exactly
half-past five.

"At six o'clock my Uncle Den came
home from work, with my Uncle Cyril.

"At seven, when this alleged crime
took place,

"I was sat round the TV
with my aunty and two uncles.

"I well remember. We was watching
The Newcomers."

(Rumpole) 'The family gave him
that alibi.

'Clubbed together for it,
like a new bicycle.'

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

(Indictinct chatter)

- (Whispers) We can't use that alibi.
- Why not?

Well, you just think about it.

Call the aunties and uncles and
cross-examine them on their records,

the jury will see the lad comes from
a family of villains

who keep a cupboard full of alibis
for all occasions.

Yes, of course you're right.

Of course, the infuriating thing
about the alibi is

it might even be true!

(Indistinct murmurs)

(Polite cough)

(Judge) Mr Featherstone.

May it please you, My Lord.

Members of the jury,
I appear in this case to prosecute.

The defendant is represented by my
learned friend, Mr Horace Rumpole.

Mr... who did you say, Mr Featherstone?

Er... Mr Rumpole, My Lord,
R-U-M-P...

(Rumpole) 'That's right, spell it out
for him, old darling.

'Mr Justice Everglade,
known to his few friends as Florrie,

'is a stranger to the Old Bailey.

'His father was Lord Chancellor
at the time

'Jim's grandfather was doing over
the Streatham Co-op.

'Educated Winchester and Balliol.

'Cracks the Times crossword
in the opening of an egg.

'Most happy with trust companies
suing each other

'over "nice" points of the law.

'Here for a fortnight's slumming
down the Old Bailey.

(Chuckles) 'Wonder what
he'll make of Peanuts Molloy? '

(Featherstone)... carrying their takings
to a grey Austin van,

parked in Fawcett Yard,
just around the corner.

Members of the jury,

I think it only fair you should know
that it is alleged

that Timson took part in this attack
with other youths, not so far arrested...

(Rumpole) "'The boy stood
on the burning deck..."'

It is right that you should tell the jury,
Mr Featherstone. Perfectly proper.

- If Your Lordship pleases.
- (Rumpole) 'The old chums' league?

- 'Fellow members of the Athenaeum? '
- I'm most grateful to your Lordship...

(Rumpole) 'Why not crawl up on
the bench and black his boots? '

So, I imagine the young man's defence

is that he wasn't ejusdem generis
with the other lads?

I'm sorry, My Lord,
you asked about the defence?

Mr... Rumpole.

I am reluctant to intrude on your
confidential conversation

with my learned friend, My Lord,
but as Jim Timson's counsel,

I thought that perhaps I might know
a little more about his case

than the counsel for the prosecution.

I imagine your client says he was not
ejusdem generis with the others?

Ejusdem generis, My Lord?
Oh, yes, he's always saying that.

Ejusdem generis is a phrase
in constant use in his part of Brixton.

(Voice hollers) Yes!
(Usher) Silence!

- Well done, Dad!
- Thanks, Nick. Lovely to see you.

- Sorry I couldn't turn on a murder!
- That's all right.

Nevertheless, there is strong evidence
against him.

(Polite coughs)

Members of the jury,
this case isn't based

on any alleged confession to the police,

or indeed to anyone in authority.

I shall be calling a young man, Molloy,
of the same age as the defendant

to whom, you will hear, he admitted
his guilt in the clearest possible terms.

- Not the easiest sort of case.
- (Featherstone) This young man...

- Is that your client, Dad?
- Yes, in the dock. As usual.

- Oh, my client's invariably in the dock.
- He ought to be in the fifth form.

(Featherstone)... and fell into
conversation with Timson...

Oh, dear! Old Florrie Everglade
doesn't know his business,

not giving us time
to get a decent lunch!

- This is fine, honestly.
- One thing you can say against crime,

the restaurant facilities
aren't up to much.

- Did you want lunch in the Bar Mess?
- Not with you here! Never!

I'd rather die than have lunch
in the Bar Mess!

It's like the prefects' room
in a junior public school. Oh!

Not your prefects' room, of course!

- Talking about school...
- Mmm.

- Um...
- What? Trouble?

- Bit of trouble, yes.
- Let me tell you at once,

there's no need to say a word that might
be taken down and used in evidence.

You know the old vicarage
opposite the school house?

It's been empty for years.
It's falling to pieces.

- You helped it fall?
- We used to get in, Sunday evenings.

- Used it for parties.
- "Get in"? How, exactly?

The kitchen window.
Didn't need much opening.

That's a technical break-in
under the Forcible Entries Act.

What time did you effect this entry?

Pretty late. After chapel.

Burglary at common law
and, of course, civil trespass.

What... er... what sort of parties, exactly?

We had a poker school.

- You haven't run into bankruptcy?
- I owe Crabtree �2.10.

We let a lot of people play.

Contrary to the Betting, Gaming
and Lotteries Act 1963.

We used to get
a bottle of cherry brandy in.

Serving liquor on unlicensed premises.

Crabtree asked a couple of girls from the
village. Bagnold never heard about that.

There's no evidence of girls!
As far as your case goes,

there is no reason to suppose
the girls existed!

As for the other charges,
they are serious.

- Yes, I suppose they are, rather.
- You were walking past the place.

You heard a noise
and went in to investigate.

Dad, Bagnold came in
and found us playing poker!

I know! "My Lord, my client
was only playing poker

"so as not to appear too pious, while
he lectured his fellow sixth-formers

"against the evils of gambling
and cherry brandy!"

- Dad, be serious.
- Don't you want me to defend you?

No! Bagnold's not going to call in
the police, or anything like that.

- What's he going to do?
- I'll miss next term's exeat.

Do some extra work. I just thought I
should tell you before you get a letter.

Yes, thanks, Nick. Thank you,
I'm glad you told me.

- So, there's no question of the police?
- Please! Of course not!

Bagnold doesn't want any trouble.
After all, we're still at school.

Still at school... Of course you are.

You and young Timson, yes!
I'm sorry. Stupid of me.

The fish and chips don't look too bad!

- (Rumpole) May I call you Peanuts?
- If you like.

- You go to the same school as Jim?
- Yeah.

- But you're not friends?
- Not really.

No, the, er...
You don't speak to each other.

The Timsons and Molloys are like
the Montagues and Capulets.

- What did you say they were?
- Not ejusdem generis, My Lord.

- (Laughter)
- (Usher) Silence!

Peanuts,
how would you describe yourself?

- Is that a proper question?
- I mean, artistically.

Are you a latter-day Impressionist?
Do your oils in little dots?

Or perhaps an abstract? White squares
on a white background?

Or perhaps watches melting in the
desert, like dear old Salvador Dali?

- I don't know what you're saying!
- Neither, I confess, My Lord, do I.

(Rumpole) 'Sit quietly.
All will be revealed.'

Are you a dedicated artist?
The Rembrandt of the remand home?

- I hadn't done no art before.
- No, that's what I rather thought.

So, are we to understand, that when
Jimbo poured out his heart to you,

- it was at your first painting lesson?
- Yeah.

- How long had you been on remand?
- Couple of months. Done for affray.

I didn't ask you that.

I'm sure the reasons for being
on remand were entirely creditable.

What I want to know is, why this
sudden fascination with the arts?

Well, the chief screw...

So, you were told to join the painting
school and get next to Jimbo?

- (Peanuts) Something like that, yeah.

- What did he say?
- "Something like that", My Lord.

And you were there not in pursuit of art
but in pursuit of evidence.

You knew that very well and supplied
your masters with what they wanted.

- Jimbo never said a word to you!
- My Lord, I don't know quite

what my learned friend is saying.
Is he suggesting...

It's an old trick! Put your suspect...
bang him up with a notable grass,

if you're pushed for evidence.
They do it with grown-ups!

- Now they're trying it with children!
- Your language is foreign to me.

Then let me try
and make myself clear, My Lord.

I'm suggesting that the witness was
put into the painting class as a trap.

You're suggesting Mr Molloy was not
a genuine amateur painter?

No indeed, My Lord,
merely an amateur witness.

- (Laughter)
- I see. Go on, Mr Rumpole.

What did you first say to Jim
as you drew your easel alongside?

- I don't remember.
- No? But you did say something?

- You were on speaking terms?
- We was speaking about the Stones.

What stones were those?

The Rolling Stones!

A great deal of this case is taking place
in a foreign tongue!

Oh, er, jazz musicians, as I understand,
My Lord, of some notoriety.

Their notoriety hasn't reached me.

Yes, go on.

We talked about their
Hammersmith concert.

We'd both been to it
and we talked about that.

Then Jim said he and the other blokes
had done up the butchers.

Jim said...

he and the other "blokes"

had "done" the butchers.

Well...

Would this be a convenient moment
to adjourn, Mr Rumpole?

(Rumpole) 'Convinient for Peanuts.
He'll have his second wind tomorrow.'

- (Judge) Mr Rumpole?
- Yes, My Lord, perfectly convenient.

If Your Lordship pleases.

That was very good, Hilda.

Yes, bit of an improvement on
the Old Bailey canteen, Nick, eh?

- That's not saying much, I'm afraid!
- I'd better see about clearing up.

Grandpa sent you his love, Nick.
Will you remember to write?

He's definitely retiring
as Head of Chambers.

He quite appreciates
that you're the senior man.

- Dad...
- Yes, old son.

Will you be cross-examining
Peanuts tomorrow?

I'll try to keep it going, but I feel I've
shot my bolt as far as Peanuts goes.

- You really think he's lying?
- If not, it's a damn good imitation!

Nick enjoyed the show,
even though it was only a robbery.

I wish you'd been there when I was
cross-examining on the bloodstains

in the Penge bungalow murder.

Nick wasn't born
when you did the Penge murder.

No, I know. Bad luck, old son!

- You were great with that judge!
- Old Florrie!

An extraordinary judge kept talking Latin.
Dad was teasing him.

You want to be careful
how you tease judges,

if you're to be Head of Chambers.

Head of Chambers, Dad? Honestly?

- I suppose it's possible.
- Can I come tomorrow? To the Bailey?

- Of course you can.
- Your dental appointment's tomorrow!

Eleven o'clock you've got to be
in Harley Street, to see Mr Drage.

She Who Must Be Obeyed!

Never mind! You won't miss much.
It's a pretty run-of-the-mill case.

Although, as I'm sure you've noticed,

it does have one rather
extraordinary feature.

Go on, Watson.
You interest me strangely.

- Do you still read those tales?
- Not lately.

Do you remember I read them to you
after She had ordered you to bed?

- When you weren't busy with murders.
- Walks on Hampstead Heath.

- You were Holmes and I was Watson.
- I remember one walk.

Tell me, Holmes, what, in your opinion

was the most remarkable evidence
given by the witness... Peanuts Molloy?

When he said they were talking
about the Rolling Stones.

You astonish me, Holmes!

Watson, we were led to believe
they were enemies.

You know, the families
weren't ejusdem generis.

Go on, go on!
Have a bit more of this.

It stimulates the detective abilities.

There they were,
chatting about a concert.

Didn't that strike you
as strange, Watson?

If you ask me,
it struck me as bloody rum!

They'd both been to the concert.
That doesn't mean anything necessarily.

- I mean, I was at that concert.
- Were you indeed?

I got time off from school.

I don't recall you mentioning it.

I said I was going to the Festival Hall.

Oh, very wise!
As far as your mother's concerned,

I should think that
at the Hammersmith Odeon

they probably re-enact the worst
excesses of the Roman Empire.

I don't suppose you saw Peanuts
or Jimbo there?

There were about 2,000 fans,
all screaming.

Yes, of course.
I don't know if that helps

I mean, if they were old mates,
Jimbo might have confided in him.

No, Peanuts was lying!
And you spotted it.

You've got the instinct!
You've got a nose for the evidence.

Your career at the Bar is bound to be
brilliant. Tell me, old man,

when are you taking silk?

(Rumpole laughs)

Mr Wystan was good enough to send
me a letter from Horsham Hospital.

Ah, yes. Old Daddy's
not quite up to snuff.

- He mentions his retirement.
- Really?

We'll manage well with you
as Head of Chambers.

Oh, do you think so?

There's not much we won't be able
to sort out over a glass in Pommeroy's.

And we'll welcome Master Nick
into Chambers?

Well, he's certainly showing
some legal aptitude.

It'll be a real family affair, Mr Rumpole,
if you ask me. Like father, like son.

Like father, like son. How very nice.

- Mr Rumpole, I've checked that date.
- Yes?

You clever old darling! Thank you
very much, Mr Bernard!

(Rumpole) When Jim told you
he'd done up the butchers,

did he say the date that it happened?

My Lord, the date is clearly set out
in the indictment.

My Lord, I am cross-examining

on behalf of my young client,
who is charged with a serious offence!

I'd be grateful if my learned friend
did not volunteer information

known to all of us in court,
except the witness!

Very well. Please go on, Mr Rumpole.

(Sighs heavily)

- Did he tell you the date?
- He never told me when.

- I thought it was in the summer.
- (Rumpole) In the summer.

Are you... a fan of the Rolling Stones,
Peanuts?

- Yeah.
- Remind me, they were...

- The musicians!
- 'Shut up, Featherstone.'

Ah, thank you, Mr Featherstone.

- And, er... and is Jim, too, a fan?
- He was, yeah.

(Rumpole) Did you discuss music
before you met on remand?

- Before the nick? Oh, yeah!
- At school together?

- Yeah.
- And, er... in quite a friendly way?

(Peanuts) Well, we was all right, yeah.

- Did you ever go to a concert with him?
- (Peanuts) We went...

- Now, think carefully.
- We went to one or two concerts.

- In the evening?
- (Peanuts) Yeah.

Would you call at his home, collect him?

- You're joking!
- (Rumpole) What?

- (Peanuts) You must be joking!
- I'm not joking at all.

- I wouldn't call at his home!
- The families don't speak.

- You wouldn't be welcome there!
- The Montagues and the Capulets?

If Your Lordship pleases.
Your Lordship puts it extremely aptly.

(Mouths inaudibly)

What would you do if going
to a concert together?

We'd leave school together,
and just hang around the caffs.

- Hang around the caffs?
- Caf�s, Mr Rumpole?

(Rumpole) Yes, of course, the caf�s,
My Lord. Before you went up West?

If Your Lordship would allow me to
translate, the West End of London.

Yeah!

So, you wouldn't be separated when
you went to a concert together?

- We hung around.
- Did that happen

when you saw the Rolling Stones
at Hammersmith Odeon?

- Yeah.
- That was this summer?

- Yeah.
- You left school together?

And hung around the caffs.
Then we went up to the Odeon.

- You were together the whole evening?
- I told you, didn't I?

(Rumpole) Yes, indeed, you told me.
Thank you very much.

My Lord, perhaps my learned friend
might be interested in knowing the date

of the only Rolling Stones concert
at the Hammersmith Odeon this year.

He might like to compare it
with the date of the offence,

so conveniently set out in the indictment.

(Whispers around the court)

But you had an alibi! You had a proper,
reasonable, truthful alibi!

And, joy of joys, it even came from the
prosecution. Why the hell not tell me?

- Me dad wouldn't have liked it.
- Your dad wouldn't have liked it!

And because of that, you were prepared
to be found guilty,

to be convicted of robbery
with violence?

- Dad got the family to alibi me.
- Keep it in the family!

Oh, well, I'd better collect me things.
Anyway, thanks, Mr Rumpole.

Dad said I could rely on you
to win the day. Cheers!

No, wait! I didn't win the day!
It was luck, it was a sheer fluke, Jimbo!

- It'll never happen again!
- You're joking, Mr Rumpole!

Me Dad told me about you.
Says you never let the Timsons down.

Do you think that's what I'm here for?
To help you in a career like your dad's?

God, I shouldn't have asked those
questions, or found out that date!

Then you'd really be happy,
wouldn't you?

Then you'd really follow
in your dad's footsteps all your life!

Sharp spells in borstal to learn
the mysteries of housebreaking

and then on to a solid life of crime!

Oh, you might do really well!

You might end up in Parkhurst
in the maximum-security wing,

doing a glamorous 20 years
and a hero to the screws!

We've got his things at the gate.
Come on, Timson.

- You can't stay here all night.
- Well, I've got to go.

I don't know how to face me dad, really,
me being so friendly with Peanuts.

No, Jim, wait! Just a minute,
just a minute. Look, come here.

Listen, if you're pleased
with the way I did your case...

- I am! Frankly, I'm quite satisfied.
- Oh, I'm glad.

Would you consider doing me a favour?

- Why? Aren't we on Legal Aid?
- Of course we're on Legal Aid! Listen,

haven't you ever thought about
leaving home?

- I couldn't do that! Not ever!
- Why not?

Me mum depends on me,
like when Dad goes away.

Well, she depends on me then
as head of the family.

Head of the family!

Cheers!

(Door squeaks open)

(Chalky) Don't look so miserable,
Mr Rumpole. You won.

Nobody won, Inspector,
but truth emerges sometimes,

even down the Old Bailey.

But he's a Timson. Runs in the family.

- We'll get him... sooner or later.
- Yes, I suppose you will.

There we are. Thanks very much.
Hello, George!

(George) Hello, Rumpole. Join us.
(Tony) Marvellous win.

- Yes, I hear you've had a splendid win!
- "Trailing clouds of glory, do we come!"

- Be years before you get the cheque!
- What was it about? I forget.

You don't get paid for years
at the Old Bailey! I told my grocer,

"If you had to wait as long to be paid
for a pound of sugar

"as we do for an armed robbery..."

Albert tells me he's had a letter from
Wystan... and I'd like to say, Rumpole,

we'd all like to say, you'll make
a splendid Head of Chambers!

"Shades of the prison-house
begin to close

"Around the growing Boy
But He beholds the light,

"and whence it flows
and sees it in his joy..."

Rumpole quotes Wordsworth.
Does it quite often.

But does the growing boy
behold the light, George,

or is the old sheep of the Lake District
being unduly optimistic?

Well, I think it'll be refreshing to have
a Head of Chambers who quotes poetry.

(Laughter)

- Have you seen The Times?
- Haven't had time. The crossword!

Guthrie Featherstone, he's taken silk.

(Featherstone) It's the stockings
that are the problem!

Yes! Yes! They would be!

- Keeping them up.
- I do understand.

- Yes. Well, Marigold...
- Who?

- My wife, Marigold.
- A wife?

My wife, Marigold!

(Shouts) Oh, that Marigold! Yes.

She's a nurse, you know,
and she put me in touch with this shop

which supplies suspender belts
to nurses! Amongst other things!

- Really?
- Yes, yes! Yards of elastic

for the larger ward sister! Ha ha ha!

- Well, it works miraculously!
- A suspender belt! You sexy devil!

Lord, I'd never realised
the full implications

of rising to the height
of the legal profession.

(Tom) Some time since we had
champagne in Chambers.

(Hoskins) Or a silk in Chambers.

(Tom) I recall, George, you'll like this,
we had a fellow here called Bulstrode -

it was before you were born -
and someone gave him 100 guineas

for six months' pupillage.
Know what he did?

- No.
- Stood champagne all round.

The next day he ran off to Calais with
his clerk and we never saw them again!

Thank you. Whose pupil were you?
I forget.

- He was my pupil, Uncle Tom.
- Well, George wouldn't do that!

- At least, I don't think. Would you?
- I missed the start.

I was telling him about Bulstrode.
Someone gave him...

(George) I do remember. Albert.
(Tom)... 100 guineas, and, er...

Ah! Ah, Albert, well met!
By Jove, you do look distinguished!

One has to cut a certain figure
down the House of Lords.

Hope I'll have the same pleasure
with you, sir.

Never, Albert, I promise you! Not ever.

Now, Henry, we don't want you
getting Miss Marchbanks tiddly.

- You may fill me up.
- You wouldn't rather a glass of instant?

- Now, now...
- Thank you, Henry.

- There you go, sir.
- Lovely.

Your husband's star has risen
so quickly, Mrs Featherstone.

Only ten years and he's an MP
and leading counsel.

It's the PR, you see.
Guthrie's frightfully good at the PR.

- At the what?
- Guthrie always says

the important thing at the Bar is
to be polite to your instructing solicitor.

- Don't you find that?
- Polite to solicitors?

- That never occurred to me.
- Guthrie admires you so!

He admires your style of advocacy.

It makes a change
from bowing three times

and offering to black the judge's boots.

He says you're most amusing out
of court. Don't you quote poetry?

Only at moments of great sadness,
madam. Or extreme elation!

Guthrie so looks forward
to leading you in his next big case.

Leading me? Did you say leading me?

He has to have a junior now.
He wants the best available.

- Now he's a leader.
- Now he's left the Junior Bar.

Just for a pair of knee breeches,
he left us.

Just for an elastic suspender belt,
as supplied to the nursing profession.

- Rumpole.
- Ah, my learned leader!

- Could I have a word?
- Of course. Would you excuse me?

- Marigold!
- (George) Marigold, come and join us.

(Rumpole) Well, old chap...

- Albert, I tell you what... Hello.
- Hello, Uncle Tom.

I just wanted to say that
I don't see why recent events

should make any difference
to the situation in Chambers.

- You're the senior man in practice.
- "Ah, you wrong me, Brutus.

"You said an older soldier,
not a better."

- A quotation, Rumpole! Very apt.
- Is it?

No, what I mean is,
that I don't see why, um...

all this should make any difference.

You'll have my full support
as Head of Chambers.

- Oh, that...
(AIbert) Mr Wystan! Mr Wystan's here!

- Henry, a chair for Mr Wystan.
- (Featherstone) Come along in.

(Indistinct chatter)

(George) You look wonderful.
So good to see you.

Albert... AIbert wrote to me
about this little celebration.

I was determined to be with you

and the doctor's given permission
for one glass of champagne.

Champagne coming up, sir!
There we are.

- Glad you could come!
- Great change in Chambers!

Now we have a silk!
Guthrie Featherstone, QC MP.

(AIl) Guthrie Featherstone, QC MP!

# For he's a jolly good fellow
For he's a jolly good fellow

# For he's a jolly good fellow
And so say all of us

- # And so say all of us... #
- Thank you! Thank you.

(Wystan) You have brought
a great distinction to Chambers.

Isn't that nice, Guthrie?

When I was a young man...

- Remember when we were young?
(Uncle Tom) Vaguely.

We used to hang around in Chambers
for weeks on end. I well recall

we used to occupy ourselves with
an old golf ball and a mashie niblick,

trying to get chip shots
into the waste bin.

- Still does, Uncle Tom.
- Albert was a boy.

- A mere child, Mr Wystan.
- We used to pray for work, any work.

We were tempted to crime.
Only way we could get into court.

As you grow older, you discover,
it's not having any work that matters,

it's the quality that counts.

Hear! Hear! We should do more civil.

Guthrie Featherstone, QC MP,
will command briefs in all divisions.

- Hear! Hear!
- Planning, contract, even Chancery.

Come, now, Wystan!

(Wystan) I was afraid after I've gone
these Chambers might become known

as merely a criminal set.

- Disgraceful!
- There's no doubt about it,

too much criminal work does rather
lower the standing of a chambers.

- Couldn't you install pithead baths?
- Oh, Horace.

We could all have a good scrub down
after the Bailey.

(Laughter)

Horace Rumpole, and I mean
no disrespect to my son-in-law...

(Rumpole bellows) Daddy!
(George) Rumpole!

...practises almost
exclusively in the criminal courts.

One doesn't get the fascinating points
of law, not in criminal work.

I've thought we should try to attract
some lucrative tax cases.

Ah, tax cases!
Tax cases make the world go round.

I mean, compared to the wonderful
world of tax, crime's totally trivial!

What does it matter if a boy loses
a year, two years of his life, hmm?

Totally unimportant! Anyway, he'll grow
up to be banged up for a good five,

shut up with his chamberpot in some
hole we prefer not to think about.

Now, then, Horace, your practice no
doubt requires a good deal of skill.

Skill? Who said anything about skill?
Any fool can do it!

It's only a matter of life and death.
Crime, it's a sort of game.

I mean, how can you compare it
to the real world

of offshore securities
and deductible expenses?

(Wystan) All you young men
in chambers can learn enormously

from Rumpole when it comes to crime.

(Rumpole) God! You make me sound
just like Fred Timson!

- Ah, champers!
- Who's Fred Timson?

The Timsons are
Rumpole's favourite family.

An industrious clan
of South London criminals.

- (Wystan) South London criminals?
- Do we really want Timson types

forever hanging round our waiting room?
I merely ask it.

(Loud sarcastic tone) Do you really,
merely ask it? Excuse me.

The Timsons and their like
are no doubt grist to Rumpole's mill

but it's the balance that counts.

- There we are, sir!
- Now, er...

you'll be looking for
a new Head of Chambers.

I'd like you all to think it over carefully
and put your views to me in writing.

We should all try and remember it's
the good of the Chambers that matters.

- Are we still looking?
- Not the feelings, however deep,

of any particular person.

- The good of Chambers.
- (AIl) The good of Chambers!

Guthrie Featherstone...

Head of Chambers?

By universal acclaim.

(Sighs)

I'm sorry.

Oh, he can have the headaches...

trying to work out Albert's
extraordinary bookkeeping.

If only you could have become a QC.

QC... CT, that's good enough for me.

CT? Whatever's CT?

Counsel for the Timsons.

Oh, Rumpole, you're impossible!

You're not in court today?

No, not today. It must be time
to see Nick off.

What are you reading? "The Mysterious
Adventures of the Speckled Band"?

"Industrial Soci..." Sociology, Nick?

Bagnold was talking about what
I should read if I get into Oxford.

It's very interesting.

You astonish me, old...

- I'll ring for the taxi.
- (Hilda) Of course you'll read law.

I thought perhaps PPE,
then go on to Sociology.

Well, we're going to keep it in the family!

PPE sounds very good, Nick,
very good indeed.

(Growls) For God's sake, let's stop
keeping it in the family!

That's what's wrong, Nick,
that's the devil of it.

They're all being born around
us all the time,

little Mr Justice Everglades,
little Timsons.

(Tersely) Little Guthrie Featherstones.

All being set off to follow
in their fathers' footsteps.

Well, let's have no more of that.

No more following
in fathers' footsteps, hmm?

- See you at half term, then.
- Right.

(Nick) Victoria Station, please.

No more.