All language subtitles for Rumpole s01e03 .eng

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(Rumpole) "'And when she weeps,
weeps every little flower,

"'Lamenting some enforced chastity."

'But was the chastity forced?

'It's always so bloody hard to know! '

Eeny, meeny, miney...

Mo!

- Now... You're giving me a rape!
- That's right, sir.

- Don't you want it?
- Want it!

That's not the question
you ask of a rape, Albert.

Rape comes uninvited.

(Ghoulish laugh)

Oh God, like these beastly brown
envelopes from the Inland Revenue.

Cup of instant, Diane,
my lovely? I'm parched.

Make it yourself! I've 24 paragraphs
of intolerable conduct to type out here!

There! Their computer has gone
bloody mad! I've had four of these!

- Morning, Rumpole.
- Erskine-Brown, how are you?

Thank you, Rumpole.
Moderately well. Excuse me.

You've managed to get Mr Hoskins into
two courts at 10:30 tomorrow, Albert.

I don't know if you realised. Better pop
down later to see the clerk of the lists.

Get him to make the fraud
not before 10:45.

He wouldn't want to split
Mr Hoskins in two?

- God forbid. You've never done a rape.
- As you know, I prefer the civil side.

I find crime moderately distasteful.

Six typing errors in this statement
from the Hercules Building Society.

A building society? That sounds
moderately distasteful to me.

I just hate sending messy work.
Don't you, Rumpole?

The work I send out is usually encrusted
with the ash of a small cigar

and stained with Pommeroys plonk.
Isn't that right, Albert?

- So could Diane...
- Diane has a divorce petition.

- And three opinions!
- Give it some kind of priority, Albert.

- I am trying to do the petty cash.
- I imagine that causes you difficulty.

When you finish putting
the figures through the abacus

or whatever miracle
of modern science we use.

It's a paying rape! It's not on Legal Aid!

I got a cheque in for you this morning.

It's a long time since I bought you
a glass of claret. We must celebrate!

That's your monthly statement of VAT
and breakdown of chambers expenses.

So, when they made Bumble Whitelock
Chief Justice of the Seaward Isles...

Oh, I don't know.
Some bloody godforsaken hole!

He had his first case, fellow found
guilty of living on immoral earnings.

Being a new boy, he didn't know
what sort of sentence to hand out.

He sent to the dock where the retiring
magistrate was just on the boat home.

Thank you, love.

The message was, "What do you
usually give a ponce?" I'll do this.

- No, no, sir, quite honestly.
- Are you sure? My turn next.

What do you usually give a ponce?
Message came back by fast rickshaw.

"What do I usually give a ponce?
Never more than half a crown."

- You like that, do you?
- I've always liked it, sir.

Oh, dear, Albert, we are getting used to
each other's jokes. It's like a marriage.

Perhaps you'd like a divorce, sir.
Henry can do your clerking for you.

Henry?

We'd sit in here over a Cinzano Bianco.

He'd show me all his colour snaps
of his holiday in Mallorca.

No, thanks, Albert. We'll rub along
for a while yet.

Who got me this brief, for instance?

Solicitors. They like the cut of your jib.

Come on, Albert!

Private rape cases don't drop out
of the sky like apples in the high wind.

- However my jib is cut!
- Well...

I do have the odd drink here
with Mr Myers of instructing solicitors.

Their managing clerk.
Do you remember Myersy?

- Myers?
- Grows prize tomatoes.

Likes to be asked about them, sir,
if I may suggest it.

Does he? Right. Yes, come over.

Myers, I remember now! Chunky fellow
with a big grey moustache,

spectacles and he smokes
a mixture of old socks.

That's the one, Mr Rumpole. He thinks
the prosecution case may be dodgy.

Says their only chance
is to crucify the girl.

A bit extreme.

I remember when
you cross-examined the complainant

in that indecent assault
at the old Kilburn Alhambra.

You brought out how he touched her up
during the Movietone News.

She admitted she'd sat through half of
Rose Marie and a wildlife documentary

before she even complained.

She fainted during your questioning.

Yeah, got her on the wing
about the tenth question.

Pow! She plummeted like a partridge
out of the witness box.

That's what I told old Myersy. "Will
Rumpole be afraid of attacking her?

"There's not a woman in the world
my Mr Rumpole is afraid of."

- Hilda!
- Rumpole?

"Being your slave,

"what should I do but tend upon
the hours and times of your desires?"

- Is that you, Rumpole?
- "I have no precious time at all to spend.

- "Nor services to rue till you require."
- You're late, Rumpole!

"Nor dare I chide
the world-without-end hour,

"whilst I, my sovereign,
watch the clock for you."

I was watching the clock.
I've been watching it since 6:30!

I'm sorry I'm late. Something blew up.
A new brief.

- I bought a bottle of plonk.
- That won't be enough.

- Good God! Are we moving?
- Not enough wine for tomorrow evening.

- What?
- Son's coming to dinner.

- Oh!
- Nick coming to dinner, is he?

I see, so that's it.

I'll pop into Pommeroys on the way
home, get a nice bottle of claret.

Don't you be late tomorrow.
He's bringing Erica.

Oh, is he?

Well, I'll pop into Healthways
and get a magnum of carrot juice.

- You've got nothing against Erica.
- She's teetotal.

- Just that she's American.
- And American. What more do I need?

"Nice salt pork, saut�
in a thick-bottomed pan until brown."

- Sometimes I think you're jealous.
- Jealous of Nick?

"Onion into quarters or eighths."
You want your son to be happy?

- "Into quarters."
- Of course I want him to be happy.

- That's just the point.
- "Saut� the onions until golden."

An MP, an Honourable Member,
wife and two children.

"Stock. Simmer gently."

Why should he suddenly take it
into his head to rape anyone?

Rape? What, a Member of Parliament?

"Slice cabbage into fairly large pieces."

- What side is he on?
- Labour.

Oh, well, there you are, then.

- What would you suggest?
- There must be some solution.

- Some reasonable compromise.
- What sort of a compromise?

You're the lawyer.
Couldn't you have a word with Bridget?

- We can't believe she'd do this to Ken.
- That would rather depend...

On what Ken had done to her.

I'm sorry.
Do you mind if I call you Mr Aspen?

I find this first-name business
a bit embarrassing.

Rather like a cloth cap
on the Labour member in the House.

Mr Aspen, there is no such thing
as a compromise in a rape case.

Either you did it or you didn't. Either
they lock you up or they let you go.

I can hardly persuade the judge
to enter into a coalition

to defeat the alleged rapee, Bridget
Evans, on a vote of no confidence.

- What can I do?
- Do what you came to do, Mr Aspen.

Tell me what happened. Mrs Aspen,
perhaps you'd like to do some shopping.

- Why?
- I thought maybe a new hat.

Some judges still like hats.

(Rumpole chuckles)

- Your husband might...
- Mr Rumpole, he is my husband.

I intend to stay with him.

I see, all right.

Right. Now, what happened?

- Well, as far as I can remember...
- Yes.

We were both working late.

I had made changes
in the next day's press handout.

- She was duplicating them.
- Yes, then what happened?

- Well, she called from the next office.
- Yes?

She wanted me to come in
because the duplicator didn't work.

When I got into the office, I went straight
to the machine. She said it was stuck.

- Yes, go on.
- (Knocking)

- Yes, come in.
- Rumpole, I...

- Sorry, I'm looking for the 1942 cases.
- They are over there, old darling.

Probably more than a little dusty.

Yes, then what happened?

Go on, Mr Aspen.

Well... She was behind me.
I couldn't see exactly.

- I think she locked the door.
- You think?

- She locked it.
- Why would she do that?

- I don't know.
- A modest lady wanted to ravish you?

Thanks very much. Do forgive me.

- Yes, then what happened?
- She wanted to talk.

So she locked the door.

- Anyone else in the other room?
- No, I told you.

It was late, everyone had gone home.
Janice Crowshott had gone.

- Paul...
- Paul. Who's Paul?

Paul Etherington, Ken's agent.

- Well, how long did this talk take?
- I don't know.

- Five minutes. Ten, I don't know.
- You've got to know, Mr Aspen.

- What did you talk about?
- Politics.

She locked the door
of the duplicating room

to have a cosy chat
about Home Rule for Wales?

Of course not.

During harsh words about export
figures, her clothes got torn?

Look, she started to accuse me.

She said I'd betrayed her, betrayed
all the workers, betrayed socialism.

- Accused me of being unfaithful.
- To her?

- To my principles.
- Oh, those!

- You're used to hearing that.
- Yes.

Must be part of life
in the dear old Labour Party.

- Then she started to talk about Anna.
- She wanted Ken to leave me.

- Is that right?
- It was the whole set-up.

The house in Hampstead
Garden Suburb, the school.

Sarah, a convent. Edward, Westminster.

And the loyal voters are down
for the comprehensive.

Then she started screaming
and shouting. Abuse, obscenities.

I can't remember.

Righteous indignation.

Then she started clawing at me,
telling me I didn't have the courage to...

Courage to what?

- Well...
- To make love to her, Ken believed.

Thank you.

- Is that true?
- Ken made love to her on the floor.

You believed that was what she wanted?

- Yes, that's what I believed.
- I was getting a whiff of a defence.

- Of course we've got a defence.
- She was goading me.

Shouting and screaming.

- When I saw what she did to the poster.
- You saw that, then?

- Yes.
- Then?

- Yes, I think so.
- I want you to be very sure about this.

You saw that defaced poster
before anything happened?

- Yes, I'm almost sure.
- No, not almost, Mr Aspen.

Quite sure. Quite, quite sure.

- Well... Yes.
- She didn't do it while you were there?

No.

Then she must've done it
before she called you into the room.

- Is it important?
- No! A triviality!

Of course it's important, Mr Aspen. It
means she hated your guts beforehand.

If we can show that in court, her
accusation of rape becomes suspect.

I hadn't thought of that.
Of course, you're right.

Mr Aspen, if you give the same thought
to the economy as your own defence,

no wonder the pound's dicky.

All right, Mr Rumpole, the case is yours.

- I'll go back and worry about the pound.
- Case? We haven't got a case yet.

You see, I don't know a damn thing
about this Bridget Evans.

Mr Myers, perhaps you could do
some digging.

You're used to that, aren't you?

So, the message came back,
by fast rickshaw...

"What do I usually give a ponce?"

(Roaring laughter)

- "What do I usually give a ponce?"
- Rumpole!

"Never more than half a crown!"

Well... At least that's over...

So, you're all fixed up
at Warwick University now, Nick?

- They offered me the job.
- You're going to take it?

- Actually...
- I think so.

There is a new department
of social studies at Baltimore.

- They'd really welcome you back.
- (Rumpole) Oh?

- I don't know.
- Come on, Nick.

Professor Daintry told you
there was a job for you.

He just thinks all the world of Nick.

- This really is a delicious meal.
- Thank you.

So... it's not decided?

Of course, from our point of view,

Warwick does have
certain advantages over Baltimore.

- I doubt academic standards are higher.
- Perhaps not.

But it's closer to Gloucester Road.

- Oh, some more water!
- Thank you.

Do you know that scientific research
has conclusively proved

that drinking water
makes your hair fall out,

gives you ingrowing toenails
and fallen arches?

They're going to pass a law against it.
Water, Hilda?

Shut up, Dad.

You'll get used to Rumpole
when you join the family.

- He doesn't have to be taken seriously.
- Nick talked lots about you in Baltimore.

That must have been remarkably
tedious. Did you really?

- I told her your jokes.
- They'd sound gibberish in Baltimore.

He told me about your work.

I think it's fantastic how you stand up
in court for the underprivileged.

I will stand up in court for absolutely any
underprivileged person in the world.

- Provided they're on Legal Aid!
- What's your motivation?

- In taking these kinds of cases.
- My motivation?

Money!

- Don't believe him.
- You're rationalising.

- It's money.
- It's the sound of his own voice!

Without the Legal Aid cheque,
I would be as silent as the tomb.

The voice of the Rumpole
would not be heard in the Strand.

The poor and underprivileged
may rely on me.

- I'm sure they can. This is delicious.
- Thank you.

The Legal Aid provides a passable
claret from Pommeroys wine bar.

Of course, you know, I do get
privately paid briefs sometimes.

A nice, fat slander. Lots of money
in that sort of thing.

- Erica wants to come and hear you.
- Oh?

- I don't think I could miss it, could I?
- I'm hardly a tourist attraction.

No, but if I'm going to live in England, I
want to know all I can about your mores.

Ah, the tribal customs?

- And Nick's family.
- Why don't you come on Monday?

Nick will bring you down to lunch.

You used to pop into the Bailey from
school. Enjoyed the occasional murder.

We'll have some steak and kidney pud,
just like the old days, eh?

That's settled. Come on Monday.
We'll have some fun.

- Fun? What sort of fun?
- Rape.

Bridget.

She's absolutely useless.

A troublemaker.

Would you care to enlarge on that
for us, Miss Crowshott?

- She's a bloody Trot.
- Trot?

- Trotskyite. Follower of Trotsky.
- Oh, yes?

Sort of left-wing activist.

The kind that infiltrates.
Oh, she was very nice to Ken at first.

Very charming.

Then she was
always passing judgement.

- Even Paul was taken in by her once.
- Paul?

Now, that's Paul Etherington, is it?
The agent?

That's right. They... sort of had
an affair some time ago.

But even Paul couldn't stand
all that bloody lying.

And the days off for deep analysis.

I wonder if you could tell me a bit more
about that, Miss Crowshott.

I'm even more interested in that, if I may
say so, than in her political beliefs.

Oh, Mr Myers, my old tomato!

Oh, my dear little tomato Myers,
you have dug deep.

- You have uncovered gold.
- (Knocking)

Oh, come in!

Ah, I wanted to speak to you
as a senior member of chambers.

Oh, frabjous day, Erskine-Brown!
Calloo! Callay!

It's a matter of the moral welfare
of Chambers.

Oh, Miss Evans.
You unreliable witness. Oh, dear, dear.

You think it's possible we may spring
the Honourable Member?

- Mustn't bother the Head of Chambers.
- Eh? Oh, indeed, why not?

Why not bother him? He's got very little
on his mind except a fat planning case.

And deliberately losing at golf
to the Lord Chancellor.

Guthrie Featherstone, QC MP,
old darling, is ripe for bothering!

- It's our head clerk.
- Albert, why bother him?

Albert's a thief.

Our head clerk is a criminal, Rumpole.

I say, as an ornament of our civil side,

don't you find that word
moderately distasteful?

- I'm afraid to say, it's the truth.
- I doubt it!

- I have proof.
- Ho, ho! Exhibit One?

Let's have a look.

Well, now, that seems a fairly
conventional portrait of Her Majesty.

There's a red cross in the corner.

- Horror! So there is.
- I put it there.

- I marked the money in petty cash.
- Time hanging heavy on your hands?

- A slump in Contract?
- I've suspected Albert for a long time.

- Really?
- Yes, really.

I saw him in Pommeroys and got the
note he paid with off one of the girls.

- Erskine-Brown, you astonish me.
- I thought you'd be surprised, Rumpole.

- You've known Albert for a long time.
- Been together now for 40 years!

- I daresay it's difficult to believe.
- Extremely!

Well, well. A private eye
taking up the Bar as a profession!

- I beg your pardon?
- Well, in my day, it used to be

nasty little men in grubby mackintoshes
snuffling over registers in cheap hotels,

observing bedrooms through binoculars

in the hope of seeing male and female
clothing scattered about the place!

First time I've heard of a private dick

being called to the Bar and becoming
an expert in the law of contract!

- I'm not proud of how I got the evidence.
- You did remarkably well.

Remind me to use your services
when I next want a divorce.

Follow women about in cars, do you?

I'll have to go to the Head of Chambers.

Why not? One small thing escaped
your attention, my dear Holmes.

Really, what's that?

Yesterday afternoon,
I borrowed �5 from petty cash,

no doubt notes decorated by you,

and I paid for all of Albert's drinks
in Pommeroys.

- Rumpole, are you sure?
- Draft an affidavit for me to swear to.

I suppose that won't be necessary.

No, it wouldn't be very safe, either.

Isn't there some branch
of your tasteful civil law

called "defamation of character"?

Of course, you're the expert.

I really would advise you as a learned
friend not to go around Chambers

spreading these wild allegations
about our chief clerk,

a darling who has been here
since you were in nappies.

Very well, Rumpole. I'm sorry
I interrupted your rape.

Say no more. Oh, Erskine-Brown!

Yes?

Convey my commiserations
to the unfortunate Henry.

The position of second clerk
must be continually frustrating.

"O, hast thou slain the Jabberwock?

"Come to my arms, thou beamish boy!

"Not yet, Father, but I will."

Oh, yes, I will.

Your tomatoes doing all right,
are they, Mr Myers?

I had a stab at hydroponics,
Mr Rumpole.

Now I've gone back to growing them
by ring culture.

- Of course I use a lot of artificial.
- Do you?

- They're fourth truss already.
- Lively little beggars, then!

Your boy.
Albert was telling me about your boy.

- Nick?
- He's done so well in America.

- He's the brains of the family. Morning.
- Morning.

Yes, they've offered him a lectureship
in Warwick University. Sociology.

He's engaged to be married. Met her in
America. Bringing her back to live here.

- Course, I never had a family.
- No?

No. Well, all those children
about the place.

- Plays merry hell with your tomatoes.
- Mr Rumpole.

Pardon me.

- I hope you're not going to let me down.
- You? You're in no danger of the nick.

I could lose everything I ever worked for.

- Yes, I understand.
- No, you don't understand.

It's been hard work. I made Ken fight.

I made him go for the nomination,
I made him fight for the seat.

When he got in, he said he'd sit on
the back benches and throw in ideas.

I made him go for the PPS's job
and he got it.

He can't see it's either him or her now.

Ken can't see that.
He's always looking for compromises.

Sometimes he makes me so angry.

Angrier than the thought of him
and Miss Evans on the floor?

- Why should I worry about that?
- Aspen!

Surrender to your bail now.

- Mr Rumpole, could I...
- I'll do my very best for you, Mrs Aspen.

If your husband will let me.

(Rumpole) 'Go into court on a rape. It's
like stepping into a fridge with no light.

'AII the men thinking of their daughters.

'AII the women sitting
with their knees jammed together.

'Ah! Except number four.

'Could number four be sympathetic?

"'Why didn't you ring me, dearie?
I'd have saved you all this trouble."

'Oh, dear, no, another Tory lady.

'No friend of the Honourable Member.

'Even the judge, even old Sam Parkin,

'he's perfectly capable of giving a
conditional discharge for manslaughter

'or putting an old lag on probation.

'Even old Sam looks
as if he's just heard the clerk say,

"'Put up Jack the Ripper."

'When you start to cross-examine in a
rape case, you open the flap of the tent

'and you're out in the blizzard.'

Miss Bridget Evans.

This... incident involving Mr Aspen...

...took place at 11:30
on the Wednesday night.

- I don't know. I didn't watch the clock.
- At about 11:30.

After everyone had gone home, yes.

All witnesses departed - no one
to establish my client's innocence!

- M'Lord!
- When it was all over, what did you do?

- I went home.
- Went quietly to bed and to sleep?

- I didn't sleep very much, actually.
- A crime had been committed.

A serious and a terrible crime.

You went home, tucked yourself
up in bed and went to sleep.

You said not one word about it to the
police until 6:30pm the following day.

He's using
the old Alhambra Cinema technique.

- You went to bed. Were you alone?
- What's that got to do with it?

- Did you go to bed alone?
- I told you. I went to bed.

Miss Evans, I shall ask you again.

I shall go on asking all night if necessary
in the interests of my client.

Did you go to bed alone?

Do I have to answer that, My Lord?

Yes, you do, and My Lord will so direct.

Perhaps if you were to answer
Mr Rumpole's question shortly,

you would be out of the box quite quickly
and your painful experience over.

(Rumpole) 'Oh, no, Sam, she'll be there
for a while.

'Not five years perhaps,
but a little while.'

- Well?
- Yes, I went to bed alone.

Thank you.
How long had that been going on?

How long had what been going on,
Mr Rumpole?

That the witness had taken
to sleeping alone, My Lord.

No longer friendly
with Paul Etherington?

Paul and I split about two years
ago, if you want to know the truth.

- I do want the truth. I'm sure the jury...
- Mr Rumpole!

Is it going to help us to know
about this young lady and Paul...

Paul Etherington, My Lord.
He was a parliamentary agent.

I'm anxious not to keep this witness
any longer than necessary.

I do understand, My Lord.
It must be unpleasant.

(Rumpole) 'Not as unpleasant
as five years inside.'

- But I do have my duty to do.
- And a couple of refreshers to earn.

So, you had lived with Mr Etherington
for two years before you parted?

- Yes.
- And...

You were 18 when you started
to live together?

Just. Nearly 18.

- Yes, and before that?
- I was at school.

- Did you have lovers before Paul?
- Yes.

- While still at school! How many?
- One or two.

Or three or four, or didn't they
stay long enough to be counted?

- Mr Rumpole!
- My Lord, I'm sorry, I apologise.

Pure unnecessary comment.
I withdraw it at once.

- Your Mr Rumpole is doing us proud.
- His hand has lost none of its cunning.

- When did you have your abortion?
- I was 19. It was perfectly legal.

- I know it was.
- I got a medical certificate, My Lord.

- You were certified unfit for childbirth.
- I suppose so.

Not because of any physical defect.
There was nothing the matter physically.

Your certificate was in fact issued
by a psychiatrist, was it not?

That's quite normal. It was just
impossible for Paul and I to have a child.

- He didn't want us to get married and...
- A psychiatrist certified you "unstable".

(Rumpole) 'A shot in the dark dark, but
isn't that what psychiatrists always say? '

- Something like that, yes.
- The jury has the evidence of a woman

who has been certified
emotionally unstable.

(Whispering)

Is it your emotional instability
which has led you

to invent a tissue of lies about my client?

Well, what is the answer
to Mr Rumpole's question?

No, My Lord!

Three months ago, you took
a number of sleeping tablets.

- By accident?
- No.

- Then why?
- I told you.

Um... It was...

I told you, I'd just parted from Paul.

Come, Miss Evans, you had parted
from Mr Etherington a year before.

It was... I was all mixed up!

Still being treated
by your psychiatrist?

- For your mental state?
- I suppose so.

And was it then you met Mr Aspen
for the first time?

Just about that time, yes.

- And fell in love with him?
- No.

Became so obsessed you pursued him
at any cost to him or his family.

- The truth is I didn't even like him.
- The night after you and he made love...

- Made love! Is that what you call it?
- He refused to leave his wife!

- We never discussed his wife!
- What did you discuss, politics?

- I told you, there wasn't time for that!
- You were in a rage when he refused.

- You invented a charge. You hate him!
- I don't hate him!

Can it be you were still in love with him?

I never hated him.
I tell you, I was indifferent to him!

So indifferent to him,
you did that to his face on the wall?

Perhaps. I...

- After!
- Before!

You did that earlier in the evening in one
of your crazy fits of rage and jealousy.

No! No!

No!

Is that poster going to be Exhibit 24,
Mr Rumpole?

If Your Lordship pleases...

Here we are, jolly Jack Pommeroys.

Jean, some champagne. Bottle
of your best cooking champagne.

- Oh, and a jug of iced water.
- I'll have a Coke.

Good, we're celebrating. A Coke.

Here we are. Seats.

Oh, I've come out in a muck sweat.

Bloody hard work, like digging the roads.

Well, we made some headway
this afternoon.

I'll say you did.

Erica was a bit upset.

- Is that the way you make your living?
- A humble living.

With the occasional glass
of cooking champagne.

- Attacking women?
- Not women, particularly.

I attack anybody, regardless of age
or sex, who chooses to attack my client.

God knows which is the criminal,
him or her.

Old darling,
that's what we're trying to find out.

- Ah, the champers, thank you.
- That went down frightfully well.

"The decision of a most experienced
judge. Ah, yes, it was Your Lordship's!"

I play golf with him. He expects
a round of applause after every stroke.

There we are. Cheers!

What worries Ricky is that the girl
has to go through all that.

I mean, on top of the rape.

- On top of the rape?
- Yes.

- It's as if she's getting punished.
- Now, just a minute.

Aren't you jumping the gun?
Who is saying there was a rape?

- Well, isn't she?
- Oh, I see, it's enough if she says it.

I mean,
it's not like any special sort of crime.

Like murder or bank robbery or forging
cheques. They've got to be proved.

But because some dotty girl says so,
he's off to chokey without question.

- How's it going, Rumpole?
- Ah, Featherstone. You know Nick.

- Nicky's intended, Ricky.
- Nice to meet you.

Erskine-Brown. Guthrie Featherstone
MP, Head of Chambers.

- Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name.
- Erica.

- Ricky. You see, Ricky and Nicky.
- Yes.

Jolly good.

- So, you really think she's dotty?
- What, the girl?

Look, you don't want to discuss
a boring old case.

- Are you ready for Warwick?
- We've got to discuss this.

Rape is the greatest act
of aggression any human can inflict.

Oh, Dad is just doing his job.
I'm sorry we came.

Oh, I'm glad. Sure I'm glad.
He's a field study in archaic attitudes.

Come on, what's archaic
about wanting equality of the sexes?

- Equality?
- Why... Ah, Tom!

- You know Nick?
- Yes, hello, Nick.

Nicky's fianc�e, Erica.
Uncle Tom. George Frobisher.

- How do you do?
- Toasting the happy couple, eh?

You're a lucky young fellow. I remember
when you used to come to Chambers...

Why don't we go and get a drink
and we can talk to them later?

- You're into equality?
- For God's sake, yes.

Give you equal pay. Let you be
all-in wrestlers and the Lord Chancellor.

I'll even make the supreme sacrifice
and stop giving you my seat on the bus.

The inequality is your suggestion,
old darling,

that women witnesses should be
more equal than any other witnesses.

Have her personal and private life
dragged out of her by some guy in a wig.

- I'll call into Chambers tomorrow.
- It's incredible!

- Come on, Erica.
- No, it's a good argument.

It's not a good argument. It's lousy.

Puts up a damn better fight
than most of the learned friends.

I am not interested in a good argument.

I am interested in exposing this kind
of outrage against women. That's all.

Erica, what seems to you
to be the outrage?

- A man forcing his masculinity.
- What about a woman getting revenge?

I don't suppose I'll ever
have to choose between being raped

and being banged up for five years
with a chamber pot but if I do...

- You're being defensive again!
- Am I?

You find the argument painful
so you make a joke of it.

Perhaps. It's not a joke
for my client, Erica.

Haven't you ever considered
that he may be innocent?

Well, he just better be.
That's all I can say!

After what you did to that girl
this afternoon, he just better be!

Oh, dear... I'm... I'll see you later.

It's unbelievable.

And he's using a wine bar as his bank.

With our money.

Mind if I join you? The youngsters have
pushed off. We can finish that.

Rumpole.
Jack's got something to show you.

This is a cheque made out to you,
Mr Rumpole.

Sprout and Pennyweather, �5.50.
Yes, that was for a conference.

Yes, I was just wondering, sir.
Is that your signature?

You don't need to tell us, Rumpole.

It's Albert's writing.

- Did you have to question her like that?
- Yes.

Dragging out her life
for the vultures in the press.

- I want you to win, Mr Aspen.
- You sound like my wife.

She always wants me to win.

I'm so tired.

It's peaceful here, isn't it?

Very peaceful.

Well, it's hardly three rosettes in the
Michelin as far as the grub's concerned.

Tasteless stodge.

Reminds me of nursery teas.

- Almost comforting.
- Look here, old darling.

You're not falling in love with the nick?

Now, look, there are
only two important points to remember.

The first is you saw that defaced poster
as soon as you came into the room.

She believed in me, you know,
that girl. She worked devotedly.

As soon as you came into the room,
not after. Now, remember.

The second thing is,
you believed she wanted it.

That's all. You believed that.

She worked devotedly.
For years and years.

And Anna too.

She worked so hard.

Sitting on committees.
Chatting up ministers.

Keeping in with the press.

Trying to convince the faithful
that it all still meant something.

My wife, Anna, you know, she...
She wanted me in the Cabinet.

- She wanted to be a minister's wife.
- And what did you want?

I wanted it to stop.

Did you notice anything
when you came into the room?

Nothing in particular.

- Was there a poster on the wall?
- Don't lead.

There were several posters, I think.
With my face on them, yes.

Perhaps it will help you
if the witness saw Exhibit 24.

(Rumpole) 'What's the matter
with the Honourable Member?

'Does he want to get back
downstairs to his spaghetti rings? '

Did you see that done
when you came into the room?

I can't remember.

Did Miss Evans start talking
about your wife?

- About Anna, yes.
- Did she ask you to leave your wife?

(Judge) Did she?

- I can't remember exactly.
- Mr Aspen, it's an important ques...

She started goading me,
shouting and screaming.

All that claptrap
about betraying the Party.

All those clich�s
about power corrupting.

- It was then that I got angry...
- Just tell us what happened, Mr Aspen!

- I made love to her.
- In anger?

- I suppose so, yes.
- Just tell us this, Mr Aspen.

Did you believe
that was what she wanted?

(Rumpole) 'He's chucked you
the lifebelt, old darling,

'for God's sake don't push it away.'

I can't remember exactly.

I don't know what I believed then.

- Oh, well, Albert...
- It weren't your fault, if I may say so.

It was the client.
I'm sorry, sir, that's the way it goes.

- It would be easier without a client.
- There's a Chambers meeting, sir.

- Meeting?
- Mr Featherstone wants you to attend.

What meeting? I'll come with you, sir.

Mr Featherstone asked me to give you
a message. Members of Chambers only.

Mr Rumpole.

Thanks. Sorry, Albert.
That's the way it goes.

Well, it seems Albert has been pursuing
a long career of embezzlement.

That's a remarkably long word for �5.50.

I would have thought
the correct legal term was fiddling.

We can't excuse crime,
whatever Rumpole calls it.

Anyway, it was my �5.50. I can call it
whatever I like, a Christmas present!

I suppose it'll be Christmas again soon.
How depressing.

- Apparently it isn't just your money.
- Oh, isn't it?

- Is there the slightest evidence?
- The petty cash.

Your famous detective work? Sherlock
Holmes putting his little red mark on it.

- I can't be Christmas again, surely?
- I told you about the petty cash.

- You borrowed money from his float?
- And paid for the drinks in Pommeroys.

- You were lying, weren't you, Rumpole?
- Erskine-Brown!

That's not the sort of language one uses
to another member of Chambers.

If Rumpole says he... borrowed money,
I'll accept his word as a gentleman.

Much obliged to you, I'm sure.

Well, as a gentleman, all I can say
is you're a fool.

- Of course I was lying.
- What did Rumpole say?

Lying, Uncle Tom.

Lying because I don't like
seeing people being condemned.

Just a splash, Rumpole.

- It goes against my natural instinct.
- That's right, he doesn't prosecute.

- You don't prosecute, do you?
- I do not prosecute.

All right. Now we'll hear
Rumpole's defence of Albert.

It seems it's not Albert who's in trouble.

- Not in trouble?
- No, it's us!

Legal gentlemen. Learned friends!

So friendly and so gentlemanly we never
ask to see his books or accounts.

Of course he cheats us.
Little piddling bits of cheating.

�5.50 to buy a solicitor
a few drinks in Pommeroys?

He considers it a mark of respect
due to a gent, like calling you sir

when you go twittering on
about typing errors in your claims.

Rather an odd way of showing his
respect, wouldn't you say, Rumpole?

I suppose he's got
a sick wife and eight starving children.

- Rumpole in mitigation!
- His wife is in the best of health.

Oh, and his son is very high up
in the Hercules Building Society.

- The Hercules?
- And a Tory councillor.

- Look, I move we vote on this.
- A matter for the police.

- Oh, police!
- You wouldn't agree, I gather?

- You'd hardly expect him to.
- Excuse me, back in a minute.

Albert's part of my life.
Always has been.

I remember Albert
when he first came to us as a boy.

He could scarcely read or write.

He's like the worn lino
in the Chambers loo.

He's like the cells under the Bailey.

I feel comfortable with Albert.
He's like an old sports jacket.

He goes out and grubs for briefs, which
we are too gentlemanly to consider!

- He has cheated us, Rumpole.
- We've got to be cheated sometimes.

Isn't that what it's about?

Otherwise we'd spend or lives counting
change and adding up receipts,

and chucking grown men into chokey

because they haven't lived up
to the high ideals of Chambers.

Or the Party,
or some other bloody nonsense.

I don't quite follow your train of thought.

Neither do I, really.
I'm sorry, I'm in a bloody day.

I'm sorry.

- Feeling better, Uncle Tom?
- I never expected Christmas so quickly!

Personally speaking... Excuse me.

Speaking quite personally,

in no way wishing to condone
the seriousness of Albert's conduct...

Bloody tiring, rape, especially
when you're on the losing end.

- I would be against calling the police.
- Not gentlemanly, Old Bill in Chambers,

his great feet
all over our petty-cash vouchers.

On the other hand, I think that Albert
ought to be asked to leave immediately.

All those... in favour?

- What's happening?
- We're voting now, Tom.

That's that, then.

Thank you, gentlemen.

Have you anything
to say why sentence of death

should not be passed against you?

You know, they say old Justice Snagg
asked a murderer that once.

The poor old sod in the dock said,
"Bugger all."

Old Snagg said,
"Did your counsel say something?"

"He said, bugger all, My Lord."

"How extraordinary.
I could have sworn his lips moved."

Hmm?

Albert would've laughed at that.

- Hello, Jack.
- Hello, Mr Rumpole.

- Albert not with you this evening?
- Not, not today, Jack.

Hello, Peg. No, I don't think Albert
will be coming in here any more, Jack.

- Not signed the Pledge?
- Something like that.

Nick! What a marvellous surprise!
Something to drink.

Some claret,
bottle of your best cooking claret.

- Well, how marvellous to see you.
- I dropped into Chambers.

- They said Albert wasn't there now.
- We've got a new chief clerk, Henry.

Oh. Well, Henry said you would be here.

- How marvellous to see you.
- I wanted to explain...

- Sorry about the case.
- Ah, yes.

The Honourable Member got five years.

So you needn't have asked
all those questions.

Oh, yes, I had to ask the questions,
Nick. Will we see you on Sunday?

- Well, I wanted to tell you first...
- Yes?

You see, I've decided
to take the job in Baltimore.

- Oh...
- Ricky wants...

- I mean, we can get a house there.
- Yes.

Her family would miss her
if she was with me in England.

- Her family?
- They're close.

I daresay.

Her mother hates the idea
of her being in England.

- Among the savage tribes, eh?
- She'd start sending food parcels.

I'll bet.

Well, never mind,
you're not leaving before Sunday?

We'll be over for lunch
to say goodbye.

Good. Thank you.

Well, it was good of you, Nick,
to drop in to Chambers.

We'll be back quite often for visits.

Yes, of course you will.

Well, there is something you'll have
to be very careful of in America.

- What's that?
- The hygiene.

It can be most awfully dangerous.

The purity.

The grim determination
not to adulterate anything!

- Well, cheers!
- Cheers...

There's a postcard from Nick and Ricky.

- Nick and who?
- Ricky. Erica.

- Oh, yes, Erica.
- They wrote it on the jet.

Hmm...

You know why Ricky went home. She
didn't like it when she came to court.

- How ridiculous.
- She talked to me on the telephone.

She didn't like the questions in court.
She thought they were tasteless.

- Distasteful.
- What?

That's the word. Distasteful. They have
trouble with English, you know.

There's a picture of their jet
on the front of this postcard.

Yes, I saw it.

Very, very handsome.

Well, farewell!

- "And if for ever..."
- Oh, don't be so silly.

- "Then for ever fare thee well."
- What will you do today, Rumpole?

Oh, I suppose go on asking
distasteful questions.

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