All language subtitles for Rumpole s06e02 tent.eng

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(AII shout)

I wishes to reason with you

as to whether
you should cross this picket line

in an officially recognised dispute.

(Man) What do you think you're doing?

(Sirens approach)

Oh, raise the scarlet standard high

Within its shade, we'll live or die

Though cowards flinch
and traitors sneer

We'll keep the red flag
flying here

'Oh,
morning's at 11:30 approximately.

"'The temple's dew-pearled.
The lark's on the wing.

"'The snail's on the thorn.
God's in his heaven..."'

And all's right with the world.

Well, more or less all right.

- They're all waiting for you.
- Clients, Henry?

Do I have a roomful
of errant human beings,

all of them
with a blessed tendency to crime?

Not exactly, sir.
The members of chambers.

Mr Ballard expected you first thing.

Why? I've nothing in court today.

I mean to laze around
with The Times crossword.

I only dropped in here as a temporary
refuge from domestic bliss.

Mr Ballard expects
everyone in by nine, sir.

What is this, a barristers' chambers
or a cash and carry?

I couldn't say sir.

Anyhow, he's got me waiting for you
at the checkout.

'Ballard's in his chambers

'and practically everything
seems to be wrong with the world.'

Oh, no! Not another chambers meeting?

In the new age of efficiency, Rumpole,

it's more appropriate
to call it a board meeting.

Quite right. I'm bored already.

Yours is a voice making jokes
in the wilderness, Rumpole.

We have decided, whilst you were
doing your minor crime in the north...

It was gross indecency in Leeds.

We've decided to put our weight
behind the government's plans

to drag the bar into the 20th century.

There was a chap called Whympering
in Fountain Court...

Please, Uncle Tom...

...said he'd drag the bar
into the 20th century.

- Please.
- He bought a coffee machine

instead of the kettle
they used in the refs cupboard.

To give the consumer a proper service,

3 Equity Court will be run
on strictly business lines.

You may look on me
as chairman of the board

and Claude as managing director.

He will now speak to our new ideas on
possible partnership with solicitors.

How will our new ideas answer him?
Rudely, I hope.

The Office Italiano,
this machine was called.

Oh, dear.

It brewed that inky black stuff
you got in foreign railway stations.

You each have an agenda.

We're going to work business hours,

nine to six and no more
than one hour for luncheon.

And there'll be a form for you to fill
in so we can monitor productivity.

How do we monitor
your productivity, Claude?

By the number of years in chokey
you get for your unfortunate clients?

One day,
this Office Italiano machine exploded

and destroyed
a lot of original documents.

- Yes...
- Including three wills.

- Now...
- Oh, dear, it caused an awful stink.

Poor old Whympering.
He got sued for negligence.

Uncle Tom.

We're aiming for a more streamlined,
slimmed-down operation,

leaner and fitter.

Think you can manage
a slimmed-down operation, Rumpole?

Highly comical, Claude. Remember,
I make the jokes in chambers meetings.

I hope, in future, we can get through
our business in quiet efficiency,

without too many jokes.

- None at all, if you have your way.
- He left the bar.

- Took up turkey farming in Norfolk.
- Who took up turkey farming?

Whympering, the fellow
who introduced the coffee machine.

They went back to the old kettle
and gas ring. Far more satisfactory.

I went into the law to be a barrister.
I don't want an office job.

Oh, really? Well, times change,
Inchcape, and we change with them.

Now, back to Claude's paper.

I'm not sure we want solicitors.
Do we need the competition?

I speak as a man with four daughters,
who needs every brief he can get.

Well, I suppose, it's possible that
some solicitors have daughters too.

- If we're making these changes...
- We are, Probert. We are.

The Lord Chancellor expects it of us.

No, no. Carry on, Elizabeth.
We'd like to hear your contribution.

- Don't be shy.
- Why not make it a radical chambers?

- This chap, Whympering...
- Uncle Tom.

...was a bit of a radical,
wore coloured socks.

I mean, why don't we concentrate
on civil liberties?

Stop the government using the courts
for union-bashing.

My dad knows
a union leader who's been arrested.

- That's the sort of thing...
- What? What?

What? Defending trades unions,
Miss Probert?

I don't think that's quite the image
we want to give No.3 Equity Court.

I'm afraid I agree.

Pleading for the Amalgamated Sausage
Skin Operatives, or whatever they are,

not the name of the game
at this moment.

Oh, really, Claude?
You're a barrister, aren't you?

You belong to the oldest trade union
of all, full of restrictive practices.

Oh-ho! Got you, old love.
Direct hit, below the water line.

Well, really, Elizabeth, isn't that
just a little bit hard on a fellow?

Brother Rumpole. Sister Probert.
Brother from the solicitor's office.

Brothers. Sister.

It sounds like a family division case.

You come recommended
by brother Ron Probert,

chair of the Southeast London Council.

I told you. My dad put in a word for you.

I'm assured
that you're taking this case

as an expression of solidarity with
the workers' right to withdraw labour.

Let's say
it's an expression of my right

to do cases that don't bore me.

Now then, Mr Baker, let me put
the case against you. Manslaughter.

Me, kill someone?
That's a joke, that is!

Oh, manslaughter in jest.
No offence in the world.

There is evidence that as the coach
driver was carried to the ambulance,

you were heard intoning a ditty about
the people's flag being deepest red.

We sings it at social events.
It's like "Auld Lang Syne".

Or "Somewhere Over The Rainbow".

I suggest that during this dispute,
you behaved with contempt for the law.

- Me? Never.
- The picket line had over six people.

- That's a code of practice.
- Oh, please, Mr Baker.

Let's leave these niceties
to Sister Liz.

She has the books.
We haven't the time to read them.

Were there more than six people?

Some others turned up
to give us extra support, yes.

- Brothers from your place of work?
- Not necessarily.

- Brothers you'd never seen before?
- Some was.

- We needed all the help we could get.
- Even illegal help?

I... suppose so.

- Even a brick through a window?
- I didn't do that!

Ah, well, a witness named Jebb
says he saw you do it.

- Then he's a bloody liar.
- Not a brother, then?

Perhaps a more distant relation.

At the nick you underwent
a forensic examination.

They took a liberty.

Brick dust was found on your trousers,
shirt and hands.

I was doing some building
in the garden!

Oh. So you indulged
in a spot of bricklaying.

How extremely convenient!

- So, you think he's guilty?
- On the contrary, Sister Liz.

I know he's innocent.

No criminal is going to stand singing
"The Red Flag" over his victim's body,

certainly not
in the presence of the Old Bill.

You wouldn't find
the Timsons doing that.

We might get him off at the committal.

Our only chance is in front of a jury.
We say very little at the committal.

- All the same, I'd like you there.
- Oh, would you, brother?

- Anything to oblige.
- I might need some tips.

Tips, Brother Bernard?

Yes. I thought I'd do the advocacy
at the preliminary hearing.

A dummy run
for the Lord Chancellor's changes,

when solicitors can appear
in the highest courts.

So, if you'll sit behind me,
Mr Rumpole...

If I could get to the bar...
Thank you so very much.

Oh, what can ail the learned clerk,
alone and palely loitering?

- Industrial action.
- Come again?

I'm seriously considering
industrial action.

Take my advice
and take a drink instead.

Jack, a king-sized Chateau Thames
Embankment, please,

and a positively mammoth Dubonnet
and bitter lemon for my learned clerk.

Put it on my slate.

- You're very generous.
- Think nothing of it.

If only there were other gentlemen
in chambers as generous.

- Meaning?
- Meaning... Mr Erskine-Brown.

To name but a few.

You've put your finger on it, sir,
as is your way, your invariable way.

Lord Erskine-Brown was behind the
door when they handed out generosity.

- Thank you, Jack.
- It's not that, sir.

It's his business plan
to slim down chambers.

Never trust anybody
who wants to slim down anything.

God rot all slimmers.

He's suggesting
taking me off my percentage.

A clerk is a constant figure
on their balance sheet.

- Should I withdraw my labour?
- Industrial action by a barrister's clerk?

Sounds a bit like a strike by poets
or pavement artists.

It's hardly likely to bring the country
to its knees.

Too true, Mr Rumpole.

Too very true, sir,

so I'd be grateful of your opinion.

My opinion, Henry, is this.
We are the last of the free lancers,

the knights errant of the law.

We ride the world with our sword rusty
and our armour squeaking.

We do battle with
fire-breathing dragons on the bench

and rescue a few none-too-innocent
damsels in distress.

We fit into no-one's business plan
or keep office hours

or meet productivity targets,

and the only choice we offer
the client is freedom or chokey.

- It could be that our day is done.
- Done, Mr Rumpole?

"From too much love of living
from hope and fear set free

"We thank with brief thanksgiving
whatever gods may be

"That no man lives forever
that dead men rise up never

"That even the weariest river
winds somewhere safe to sea."

- Now, doesn't that cheer you up?
- Not very much, sir, to be honest.

Same again, Jack, please,
if there's any room left on the slate.

Hilda!

Hilda?

Hi...

Hilda?

"Answer came there none

"But that was scarcely odd because
she'd went and been and gone."

(Clattering)

- Ah...
- It was hanging on the floor.

- What are you doing?
- Looking for the note.

- What note?
- "Your stew is in the oven."

- There isn't one.
- No note?

- And no stew in the oven.
- Oh, well er...

Chops, actually.
I'd rather prefer chops.

There aren't any chops either.

Oh, well, anything, really. I'm not fussy.

Couldn't you whip something up?

No, Rumpole,
I'm not whipping anything up.

I waited for you until nearly
half past nine,

then I went out for a bridge lesson
with Marigold Featherstone.

There was a problem in chambers.
I had to cossimerate with...

I had...
I had to commiserate with Henry.

Yes, and no doubt
that meant carousing with him.

Well, I had to carouse a bit
in order to cossi...

...to sympathise with him.

Daddy would have drawn the line
at carousing with his clerk.

Well, your daddy wasn't really one to
carouse with anybody, was he?

I hope you drew the line at singing.

Oh, certainly. No, we did not sing.
Things had gone well beyond singing.

I did recite a bit of poetry.

Couldn't you turn your hand
to a bit of cookery?

No. I'm finished with cooking for you
when you don't come in until all hours.

I'm sorry, but this is the end of the line.

- Hilda, you're not leaving home?
- No, Rumpole, I'm not leaving home.

Oh, good. Good.

I am taking industrial action,
withdrawing my labour.

Oh, Hilda... Not you too?

As for the brick dust on our client's
trousers, we have a complete answer.

Don't tell them what it is.

Where the brick dust comes from
is surely a matter for the jury.

My sentiments entirely.

But he was building a wall, sir,
so there's no evidence.

Mr Bernard, I have a statement
from a Mr Gerald Jebb,

saying that he saw
your client hurl the brick.

But, sir, what about
the presumption of innocence?

Oh, very well, Mr Bernard.

What of it?

With the evidence in doubt,

my client is entitled to an acquittal.

That is the golden thread
that runs through British justice.

We are all of us innocent until
you can be sure we must be guilty,

and I put it to you, sir, that you
couldn't find my client guilty

on a charge
of a non-renewed dog licence

on the vague and unsatisfactory
evidence of this fellow, Jebb.

(Whispers) Not now, darling.
We don't do that bit now.

Mr Bernard,
your client will be committed to trial

at the Central Criminal Court,

before a jury and a judge.

As you please, sir.

I hope he's a judge with no prejudice
against trades unions.

They think they're above the law,
these union bosses, over and above it.

I don't know
what the country's coming to, Wilfred.

- The summer of discontent, I call it.
- Reminds me of the French Revolution.

Does it, Wilfred?
Oh, well, yes, I suppose it does.

Well, old Rumpole
will not get away with it again.

- With the French Revolution, My Lord?
- Don't be silly. With manslaughter.

There's a sort of legend going around

that old Rumpole gets away with it
all the time?

Even my wife,
even Lady Featherstone, thinks

Rumpole can twist me
round his little finger.

An astute lady,
if I may say so, My Lord.

Be that as it may,
he won't get away with this one.

I've taken a look at Baker.
I don't like what I see.

I'm going to pot him good and proper.

In off the red! He won't be able
to go on strike in prison.

(Knock on door)

- Yes? Ah, Simon!
- Guthrie, a moment of your time.

Yes, delighted. Come in.

It's about these dotty schemes
of the Lord Chancellor.

- No, no. Do stay, Alfred.
- Wilfred, My Lord.

- Yes. We value your opinion.
- Potty, My Lord.

- All the clerks think so.
- Solicitors sitting on the bench.

Solicitors in the House of Lords,

before we know where we are,
overturning judgements.

- Some of my friends are solicitors...
- Are they indeed?

Oh, well, not my most intimate friends,
of course,

but good acquaintances, and I don't
want to hear them talk all the time.

You and I had enough
of that sort of thing at the bar.

- I'm so glad you're sound on this one.
- Yes, I am.

Now, speaking as the senior judge
on the circuit...

You are, Simon.
You're the senior judge.

A few of us plan to meet,

Mavings from the Court of Appeal,
Egbert from Chancery

and a chap from the family division.

- We have to take action.
- What, you mean...

- You mean our jobs are at risk?
- Who knows? Anything can happen.

- Could you be free?
- Let them try and stop me.

Two o'clock in my room.
We value your support.

- Well, thank you, Simon.
- Cheerio.

Thank you... most awfully.

Did you hear that, Wilfred?

Our jobs are at risk.

The summer of discontent,
that's what I call it.

Mr Jebb, from your position,
did you see the defendant stoop down?

My Lord, I didn't know
leading questions were allowed,

even in cases
against trades union officials.

Leading questions are not allowed
in any case, Mr Rumpole, as you know.

- Yes, carry on, Mr Ballard.
- I'm obliged to Your Lordship.

What did you see Baker do?

He stooped down, picked up a brick
and hurled it at the coach driver.

- Did he hurl it hard?
- Mr Ballard!

- He hurled it with full force.
- Hurled it with full force at the driver.

Thank you, Mr Jebb.

Have you any questions, Mr Rumpole?

- You saw my client stoop down?
- Yes, I did.

Had he not just jumped out of the path
of a charabanc?

He got out of its way.

- Was the driver trying to kill him?
- I'm not sure what he was doing.

Just as you're not sure what my client
was doing when he stumbled.

He just said
he saw your client hurl a brick.

I'm sure Mr Ballard is most grateful
to Your Lordship

for that intervention.

Just one more thing.

You said nothing at the time
about seeing Mr Baker hurl that brick.

You made your statement
three weeks afterwards.

- Why?
- I didn't want to get him in trouble.

You've got him into trouble now.

- Why change your mind?
- I thought I should tell the truth.

"Because
I thought I should tell the truth."

Well, have you finished, Mr Rumpole?

I may have some more questions
for this witness later.

I'm waiting for certain instructions.

'I mean, I'm waiting for inspiration.'

Could my learned friend have Mr Jebb
available to be recalled?

He is clearly a vital witness.

I'm sure that Mr Ballard will
undertake to have him available.

You'll see that he's here, won't you,
Mr Ballard,

in case Mr Rumpole can think
of any further questions?

Certainly, My Lord.

The inspector foresees no difficulty.

Mr Jebb, before you go, you referred
to the defendant as Basher.

The jury might like to know
how he acquired that nickname.

My Lord, I object. That is irrelevant.

I overrule your objection, Mr Rumpole.

He talked about bashing people,
especially on the bosses' side.

Ah. Thank you, Mr Jebb.
That is extremely helpful.

'About as helpful
as a cup of cold porridge, old darling.'

Mr Ballard, Mr Rumpole, I'm afraid I
shan't be able to sit this afternoon.

- Oh. May we ask why, My Lord?
- No.

- No?
- Well, I mean, yes. Yes, of course.

It's an important matter,
a matter of public duty.

I will rise now.

(Court officer) Be upstanding.

Shot off like a rabbit out
of a trap. What sort of public duty?

Sorry, Rumpole.
Lunch with Dave Inchcape.

Isn't she looking delicious today?

- Who?
- Your learned junior, Rumpole.

It's the contrast, isn't it,

between the impish little face
and the strict white wig?

No disrespect to you,
but I couldn't take my eyes off her.

- How's your wife, Erskine-Brown?
- Philli?

Doing a grand corruption in Hong Kong.

We see so little
of each other nowadays.

You want to take Ms Liz Probert
to the opera again, don't you?

She'd never come.

She doesn't like me much,
does she, Rumpole?

The way she ticked me off
at the meeting.

I don't want you
to get the wrong idea.

I have in mind a social event,
entirely innocent.

- You believe that, don't you?
- Of course, Claude.

Everyone's innocent until proven guilty.

Look, er...
I might just be able to help you.

- Help me, Horace?
- Yes.

I do have a little influence
with my former pupil, Ms Liz Probert,

and despite my not being born
a member of a minority or female

or a one-parent family,
she sometimes takes my advice.

Do you think you could advise her?

I couldn't connive at anything
but a musical evening.

Purely musical. I promise you.
Scout's honour.

Oh, well, I'll try to do my best, and
do a good deed for someone every day.

There'll be bluebirds over

The White Cliffs of Dover

Tomorrow

Just you wait and see

There'll be joy... and laughter

And something ever after

Tomorrow, when the world is free

The ship...

The ship...

The shi...

Aaahh!

(BIows)

Aaahh!

- Aaahh!
- Rumpole?

Shall I call the fire brigade?

Er... not necessary any longer.
I was just cooking dinner.

Really? I thought you were arranging
an interesting collection of fossils.

Hilda, I've had no training in this
line of work!

You should have thought of that
before you stayed out.

Couldn't we refer it
to the ACAS conciliation service

or discuss it over beer and sandwiches
like they used to do?

(Doorbell rings)

- What's that?
- It sounds like the doorbell. I'll go.

If you put those potatoes on now,
you could have them for pudding.

We've never met, Mrs Rumpole, after
all your old man's done for my family.

A friend of yours, apparently,
Rumpole.

What? Oh, Dennis! Dennis Timson!
How are you?

Senior member of the Timson clan,

a notorious family
of South London villains,

that have kept us in saucepan scourers
and such like for the last 30 years.

- Villains?
- Naughty boys.

That's what your husband means, dear.

I'm tickled pink to meet
your old ball and chain, Mr Rumpole.

Anyway, I was in the vicinity...
Not to get up to any naughtiness.

I wasn't doing over the downstairs
or nothing.

I thought I'd pop up, having some info
that may be of use to your husband.

Oh, well, sit down. Why not stay
to supper. Hilda hasn't eaten yet.

Thank you, no.

I shall have some cheesy bits
at Lady Featherstone's bridge lesson.

Goodbye, Mr Shrimpton. I don't
suppose you'll be here when I get back.

- I'll er... I'll see you out.
- Thank you, Rumpole.

I can find my way out of my own flat.

I'm sorry, Dennis. My er... my wife had
a previous engagement.

Yeah, well, I called
at your place of business, Mr Rumpole,

but Henry said
you was out buying groceries.

- I find that hard to believe.
- Difficult times, Dennis.

They call it the summer of discontent.

Well, now, what is it?
Got yourself into trouble, have you?

No. Well, not at the moment.

Oh, well...
You're not on strike too, are you?

No, of course not.
I thought I might be able to help you.

- Really?
- Yes.

I thought I'd tell you
about our holiday in Marbella.

- Got some snaps for me, have you?
- As a matter of fact, I have.

Our enjoyment was a little bit spoilt
by the arrival of this shower.

- Hey, isn't that the Malloy family?
- Including young Peanuts.

In view of this case
you're working on,

I thought you might be interested
in the Malloys' vehicle.

"Ernie Elver's Luxie Charas,

"complete with toilets
and double-glazing."

And young Peanuts.

Yes. Notice the grey-haired party with
his arm around Peanuts' Aunt Dolly?

- By God, I notice him!
- Yeah, Gerry Jebb.

Used to drive getaways
for Peanuts' father.

Did he indeed?
Oh, you're a treasure, Dennis.

- Bless you. Can I keep that?
- Yeah, sure.

Look, why not stay to supper?

Er... no. I don't think so, Mr Rumpole.
Look, why don't we attack a chink?

- What are you talking about?
- Go for a Chinese.

The only way you'll get
a radical chambers,

is to persuade Claude
to stop trying to be a whizz kid,

go back to the old ways.

Equity Court will be
a place fit for freelancers.

We can rescue the brothers.

- And who's going to persuade Claude?
- The person with the most influence.

- Someone he'd do anything to impress.
- You mean you?

No. You.

Tell him you liked him better
when he was an old-fashioned lawyer,

preserving the best traditions
of the bar, taking snuff...

Tell him he was er... sexier like that.

Rumpole, are you suggesting
I use my femininity?

It's in a good cause. Put up with some
Wagner in the interests of justice.

(Chuckles)

Wilfred, is the judge going to honour
us with his presence this morning?

Bless you. Yes, Mr Rumpole.

We're not going on strike yet.

- On strike?
- It may come to it.

That's what our judge said.

"If the Lord Chancellor wishes
to put a solicitor over our heads,

"we may have to take action."

Oh, quite right too.
So, yesterday afternoon?

Just a taster, Mr Rumpole,

to show the public
we won't be pushed around.

- Of course, there was a meeting.
- A union meeting.

A meeting of judges, Mr Rumpole.

Some of the senior men were there,
including ourselves.

Oh, yes, the brothers.
You ever thought of that, Wilfred?

Judges and trade unionists
call themselves brothers.

Doesn't mean they like each other.

Well, I must go
and get us on the bench.

It must be a heave for you
on some mornings.

And you will try not to twist us
around your finger, won't you?

Say again?

We're determined to pot you this time.
I thought we should warn you.

Oh, how very charming of you, Wilfred.

Very charming indeed.

(Men shouting)

(Rumpole) Stop!

- (Rumpole) I call upon Mr Bollard...
- Ballard!

Makes no difference.

I still call upon him to admit that
the dark-haired man on the picket line

is Mr Peter, known as Peanuts, Malloy.

I don't suppose
your learned friend would know.

Let him ask the detective inspector.
He will soon find out.

That would seem to be correct,
My Lord.

Mr Elver, this dispute
at your charabanc garage

was about your employing
non-union, untrained drivers?

(EIver) That's what they said it was.

And my client took the view
that if you employed these cowboys,

there might be an accident,
someone might get killed.

Even the most mild-mannered man
might withdraw labour in that situation.

- Take His Lordship.
- Mr Rumpole?

Did you know
that the powers that be have suggested

that solicitors might get jobs
as judges, High Court judges,

appeal judges, lords of appeal?

Mr Rumpole,
these questions are irrelevant.

And speaking of appeals,

is Your Lordship stopping
my cross-examination?

No, I'm not stopping you.
It's just that I fail to see...

If Your Lordship sits quietly,
all will become clear.

You won't twist this court around
your little finger.

My little finger? Perish the thought!

Well, Mr Elver, solicitors as judges.
That is the suggestion.

- I didn't know.
- Well, you know now.

That suggestion caused
even a moderate man as His Lordship

to go on strike.

On strike, Mr Rumpole?
What are you talking about?

Yesterday afternoon, My Lord.
I remember not much being done.

- Was Your Lordship on strike?
- I was not on strike.

Simply withdrawing labour.

As I told the court,
I had an important meeting.

- Yes, My Lord. You told us that.
- Keep out of this, Bollard.

With brother judges from the Chancery
and family division.

Ah, yes. The shop stewards.
What was discussed, My Lord?

Mr Rumpole,
are you cross-examining me?

Cross-examining Your Lordship?
Heaven forefend!

I can understand that if the judges
are in dispute with their employers,

then it is a delicate matter,
better kept secret.

Well, I don't think it is any secret
that certain... changes

have been proposed
in the legal system.

- Cowboys on the bench, My Lord?
- Well, no.

Not quite, but certainly people
whose training may not fit them...

And if these changes are implemented,

are we to expect further industrial
action down the Old Bailey?

Well, it is a possibility. I hope
that wiser counsel will prevail.

Now, come along, Mr Rumpole.
That's quite enough of that.

High Court judges are not, nor have
ever been, members of a trades union.

Is that a legal proposition
or a subject for debate?

Returning to the question on trial,
did your client commit manslaughter?

I was merely venturing to suggest
that, when their jobs are threatened,

even the most reasonable men
will withdraw their labour.

I'm sure His Lordship will agree.

Do you not think that that is
a reasonable proposition, Mr Elver.

I suppose so.

(Rumpole) You wanted to make it look
as unreasonable, didn't you?

- Why would I do that?
- Childishly simple, Mr Elver.

If there were more than six pickets,
you could get an injunction.

If there was violence
and intimidation,

you could get the union fined
a lot of money,

and you could get rid of that thorn
in your flesh, Mr Basher Baker,

and hire as much cheap cowboy labour
as you wanted.

- But there was violence.
- Of course, because you put it there!

Usher...

Would you give that to the witness?

You know the Malloy family, don't you?

- Not sure.
- Oh, come on, Mr Elver.

You employ one of their relations,
Gerry Jebb.

They're a firm of criminals,
well-known to the inspector here.

You hired the Malloy family,
didn't you,

to swell the picket line and create
as much violence as possible,

and when you'd arranged
the performance,

you taped it from your office.

- Baker was in charge of the pickets.
- Of the peaceful pickets, yes.

He did not know the new arrivals. He
thought they were from other firms.

But, in fact, they were your gang
of hired troublemakers, weren't they?

Are you suggesting that this witness
planned the driver's death?

Oh, no, no, My Lord. No.

I'm sure Mr Elver
was as surprised as anyone

when whoever threw that brick
went too far,

possibly young Peanuts Malloy,
but it was a blessed opportunity

to get the awkward Mr Baker
into real trouble.

How much did it cost
to get Jebb to give evidence?

My Lord, I object...

Or did you get it in a package deal
for a free holiday in Marbella?

Look at that photograph. Isn't that
one of your luxury charas in Spain?

- It seems to be.
- Yes. Do you see Gerry Jebb there?

- Young Peanuts and the Malloys?
- Yes.

- Was that holiday a present from you?
- I don't think so.

Do you have evidence
that the Malloys paid for the coach?

- Maybe not.
- Why not?

Gerry Jepp had been with the firm
a long time.

- I did him a favour.
- And he did you one.

- None of this was put to Mr Jebb.
- Your Lordship is right.

That is why I have asked
for the witness Jebb to be recalled.

Very well. Oh, I see it's a little early,
but I will rise now.

- A public duty, My Lord?
- Yes, Mr Rumpole, public duty.

You may put your questions
to Mr Jebb in the morning.

- I am much obliged to Your Lordship.
- Court will rise.

# We'll keep the red flag
flying here #

Did you say something, Mr Rumpole?

I said, "What an interesting case
we're trying here," My Lord.

- Working hard, Guthrie?
- Marigold?

- Or are you taking industrial action?
- There you are.

Hard day in court, you know,
and happened to rise a little early.

What was that about industrial action?

- I've been reading the paper.
- Oh, yes, of course.

A bit about my case in it, is there?

An interesting discussion,
but I'll tell you this, Marigold,

I'm going to pot that shop steward.

Rumpole won't twist me
around his little finger.

- It seems he's already twisted you.
- What? No. Let me see.

Aren't you fit to be let off the lead?

Should I be beside you,
telling you to keep your mouth shut?

What am I supposed to have done?
What am I supposed to have said?

"'Industrial action by judges
is a possibility,'

"said Mr Justice Featherstone, 53,

"'if jobs on the bench
are open to solicitors."'

- Did you say that, Guthrie, dear?
- Well, something like it, I suppose.

Yes, something very like it.

"The judge agreed with Mr Rumpole,
counsel for Baker,

"that he had been withdrawing
his labour yesterday afternoon

"when he closed his court to attend
a protest meeting of senior judges,

"whom he called shop stewards."

That's libel!
Rumpole called them that.

It sounds an accurate description.

- There's a leading article on Page 5.
- A leading article?

"Judges add to nation's misery."

Oh, Marigold, it's simply not fair.

"Train drivers, air traffic
controllers, local government workers,

"prison officers,
drain clearance operatives..."

- Drain clearance operatives?
- Charming company you keep, Guthrie.

"...have all put the public through
a summer of discontent.

"Now, if you strangle a porter

"when you've waited days
for a train at Waterloo,

"you won't be tried for it according
to Mr Justice Featherstone,

"who also went on strike
yesterday afternoon.

"Come off it, Your Lordships,
drop the Spanish practices

"and offer a decent service."

- Marigold, it's the fault of Rumpole.
- Of course it is.

Why can't you twist him
round your finger?

- You're bigger than he is.
- I shall deny it, in court.

Oh, do. Then everyone will believe it.

I had to read this paper at lunch
in Harrods, at the Silver Grill.

- I was deeply humiliated.
- Oh, Marigold, I'm so sorry.

- I've bought you a present.
- Oh, have you, darling?

- I knew you'd understand.
- Oh, yes.

I understand perfectly.

It's your flat 'at, Guthrie.

Now you can go down the club

and play darts over a pint
with the charge hands.

I'm going to my bridge class
with Hilda Rumpole.

Her husband has his drawbacks,
but he's not a shop steward.

(Door slams)

Oh, brother...

- This is how I like you.
- You do like me a little, Elizabeth?

- When you're like this...
- Like what?

- Your old English barrister.
- Old?

I'm not particularly old actually,
not exactly old.

Old-fashioned, Claude,
that's what I meant.

Oh, I see. You like that, do you?

I should have thought you wouldn't.

It's the old-fashioned elegance
I admire,

the English gent,
the bow tie and all that.

It's rather sweet.

- It's an old Wykeamist bow tie.
- Is it really?

I wouldn't wear it in the daytime, but
it goes well with a great evening out.

You're charming when you look
like a good old traditional barrister,

you know, the sort that takes snuff.

- Snuff?
- Yes.

You think I should take snuff?

As a simple working-class girl,
Claude, I do find that a wild turn-on.

Oh... Do you really?

Snuff, eh? Well, I suppose
I might give it a sniff.

Out of a little silver box.
I'd find that irresistible.

Oh, and stop trying to be a whizz kid,

talking about sliming down
and productivity targets.

It sounds like some naff manager
in a suit, horribly un-sexy.

Elizabeth,
is that why you went off me?

And consumer choice?
Consumer choice is absolutely yuck!

You know what I love about you?

Love? Please, Elizabeth, tell me.

You being so square and vague,

and beautifully un-businesslike,
and sort of... dusty.

- Dusty?
- In the nicest possible way.

Dreamy, with all sorts of ideas.

You do believe in freelance
barristers, don't you, Claude?

I believe in them passionately,
Elizabeth.

Radical ones too, of course.

Why not say so
at the next chambers meeting?

If you're not in awe of Ballard.

In awe of Ballard? I'll show you
if I'm in awe of Ballard.

Elizabeth, do you suppose we might
ever... sing the love duet together?

- Not now, Claude.
- When?

Maybe
after the next chambers meeting.

My Lord,
I gave the court an undertaking

that the witness
Gerald Jebb would return today.

He was warned
that he must be available,

but I regret to inform the court
that the witness Jebb has vanished.

Surprise, surprise.

Vanished, Mr Ballard?

Yes. The inspector thinks
he has probably left the country.

Try Marbella.

My Lord, the flight of this witness,

for it can only be described
as a flight,

must cast considerable doubt
on his evidence.

If it can be called evidence.

Our enquiries have also disclosed

that the defendant was in fact
laying bricks in his garden,

which could account
for the brick dust on his clothing.

In view of this, I therefore feel

it would not be right
for the prosecution to persist...

...with these charges.

Mr Rumpole?

I'm sure we are all grateful
to my learned friend.

It is a wise decision, and, no doubt,

Your Lordship has
other matters to attend to.

Yes, Mr Rumpole,
I have an important meeting,

with the Lord Chancellor.

(Knock on door)

Ahem... Lord Chancellor.

Ah, come along in, my dear old fellow.

Sit you down.

- Drink?
- Oh, thank you.

All this business about striking...

That's why
I wanted to see you, Guthrie.

We can't have judges going on strike,
can we?

We fined the drain operatives quarter
of a million for not taking a ballot.

Do you have that sort of money?

Er... no. No, no, no. Of course not.

I think the judges are agreed,
Lord Chancellor,

that should it come to a ballot,
they might well take action.

Oh, dear. Oh, my ears and whiskers.
The cabinet won't like that.

The idea of judges on a picket line
with an election coming.

I don't think the cabinet will be
attracted by that.

- Got a cloth cap, have you?
- Yes, as a matter of fact.

Oh. Well, a little something to eat?

Beer and sandwiches?

Sometimes,
the old-fashioned way is best.

Now, I don't wish to quarrel
with you fellows,

and I don't know why solicitors
want to be judges anyway.

I agree. They make more money sitting
in their offices selling houses.

- Or whatever it is they do.
- Exactly.

I don't know why anyone should want
to be a judge,

unless their practice is a bit rocky.

- That your trouble, was it?
- No, certainly not.

I felt a call. Public duty.

I suppose your wife likes it, but no
more talk about going on strike, eh?

What do you say we leave the question
of solicitors joining the judges

for the judges to decide?

- Super.
- I'm thinking along those lines.

- Good to talk to you, Guthrie.
- Thank you.

Now, why don't you try
the cheese and tomato?

With all due respect,
aren't we risking

throwing out the baby
with the bath water?

We mustn't lose our freedom,
our eccentricity.

That's what makes us, us barristers,
so attractive.

Ever since the Middle Ages,
we have been the great freelancers,

independent radicals,
the champions of freedom,

against tyranny and oppression,
wheresoe'er it may be.

We must preserve, at all costs,
the great old British tradition.

Am I to understand
I cannot count on your support

in getting chambers efficient?

No. You no longer have
my support on this.

Does that mean
no new coffee machine?

- Yes, I'm rather afraid it does.
- Oh, good.

Let's stop trying to be whizz kids,

talking about slimming down
and productivity targets.

It makes us sound like little middle
managers in suits. Yuck!

(Sniffs)

(Sneezes)

I say, that's a terrible cold
you've got, old man.

Roast beef!

Yorkshire pudding!

Peace has broken out.

Poor Marigold Featherstone. She was
so upset when Guthrie went on strike.

Do you know what she bought him?
A cloth cap.

But there are certain people at the
top who really shouldn't go on strike,

in the public interest.

People like judges and generals and...

Decision-makers of all kinds.

So, I finally thought
that going on strike really wasn't on.

Distinctly off.

It's just not the sort of thing that
people like me and Guthrie should do.

You wouldn't buy me a cloth cap,
would you, Rumpole?

Perish the thought.

And then, I thought,

"It's a long time since you had
a nice Yorkshire pudding."

Oh, Hilda, thank you.
Thank you very much.

Sit down. Don't let it get cold
after all the trouble I went to.

Sit down, Rumpole.

She Who Must Be Obeyed.

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