[theme song] ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ [engine roaring] [distant chatter] Yes.

Next, please.

[grunting] [alarm ringing] [items cluttering] [alarm ringing] Hold it!

[engine revving] [alarm ringing] [police siren] [organ music] [knock on door] [organ music continues] Anthony Timson.

You know damn well who I am.

What you on about now, Brush?

That's a very handsome piece of musical equipment.

Look, a boom in the window cleaning, is that Tony?

Yes, we're doing very nicely.

Thank you.

Courtesy of the Pond Hill bank job?

Bank job?

It's a bit above my station in life, Brush.

You know that.

What's that, Tony?

The wife's bagwash?

[engine idling] [door shutting, engine revving] Brief in RV Timson.

I suppose that'll be for Mr. Rumpole, won't it, Mr. Bernard?

The brief is clearly marked for the attention of Mrs. Phyllida Erskine-Brown.

Oh, yeah.

I see.

I can put up with a good deal, Henry, from members of the so-called Senior Branch of our great profession.

But I will not be called a villainous viper in the clear hearing of the clerk to the Uxbridge Magistrate's Court.

Mr. Rumpole said that?

BERNARD: Uh-hum.

Good morning.

BERNARD: Oh, good morning.

Ah, Mrs. Erskine-Brown, I've just entered the brief for you in RV.

Timson.

Ah, yes.

And wonderfully prepared, I don't doubt, like all Mr. Bernard's work.

How is your daughter, Mr. Bernard?

Polytechnic going well, still, is it?

Three A's.

Thank you for asking.

And still keeping up her figure skating, I'll bet.

Chip off the old block, wouldn't you say so, Henry?

See you in Brixton, Mr. Bernard.

You know, I always felt Mrs. Erskine-Brown had a real feeling for the law.

[grunting] Oh, let's try the Irish screwdriver.

There you are.

Look at that.

Steady as a rock.

Most people would have got a man in to do a simple job like that.

Did you plug the wall, Rumpole?

A useful shelf [clears throat] for the support of such vital articles as Th Oxford Book of English Verse, Professor Andrew Ackerman on The Importance of Blood Stains in the Detection of Crime.

Ah, a copy of Archbold, the criminal barristers' Bible.

Yes, that one's considerably out of date.

And a spare bottle of Chateau Thames Embankment, 1983 and a half.

The instructions say, "Plug the wall with the material supplied before attempting to erect your easy-do convenient shelving."

Did you plug the wall, Rumpole?

Never read instructions to counsel before doing a murder.

Leave it to the instinct of the advocate.

Never let me down in court yet.

I do notice that you haven't been in court very much lately.

Oh, temporary lull in business.

Nothing of fearful import.

It's because you're rude to solicitors.

You were rude to Mr. Bernard.

You told me about that.

So that's why he's not sending you any briefs now, is he?

Sure that's straight?

Of course it's straight.

And I was not rude to Bernard.

I merely quoted Shakespeare's Richard II second to him to improve his education.

Oh, perhaps Mr. Bernard didn't want his education improved.

"Oh, villain.

Viper.

Damned without redemption."

Well, I suppose he took that as a compliment.

He advised a client of mine to plead guilty at Uxbridge Magistrates' Court, when I was held up in the tube.

"Would you make peace, Bernard?"

I said.

"Terrible hell make war upon your spotted soul for this offense."

It's definitely at an angle.

Really, Hilda?

That's because you're definitely at an angle.

One small gin and tonic at lunchtime, you start leaning like the Tower of Pisa.

There you are.

Look at you.

Look at you.

Pull yourself together.

Well, really?

That's the way that you talk to solicitors, it's no wonder that I've got you at home all day.

Members of the jury, soon this case will be over.

In a little while, you will go back to your jobs and your families, and forget all about it.

At the most, it will be but a small part of your lives.

But for my client, it concerns the whole of his life.

But it is that life I leave in your hands with confidence, certain that there can only be one verdict.

Not guilty.

Sink down.

Exhausted.

A la Donald Wolfit, mopping the brow.

Good end to a final speech, eh, Miss Always?

Oh, yes.

But my client is only accused of nicking six frozen chicken pieces from Safeway's.

I can assure you, Miss Always, it works just as well on any occasion.

Ballard's just going to start the chambers meeting, Horace.

Chop chop.

- Aye, sir.

This is it, isn't it?

This is what?

Where they decide whether they're going to let me stay on here.

Perk up, Fiona.

I've cracked tougher courts than that lot in there.

Oh, just one thing.

Hmm?

Old Claude, that popped his head in just now.

Well, Mr. Erskine-Brown?

Yes, he doesn't tickle your fancy by any chance, does he?

[laughs] HORACE: I mean, you don't find him devastatingly attractive or something, do you?

Oh, of course not.

HORACE: No.

Well, he is hardly born human, is he?

No, I don't suppose he is.

Well, that's all right, then.

I'll see what I can do.

[laughs] Oh, sorry.

Am I late for evensong?

Good evening, Horace.

Hello, Uncle Tom.

Ugh.

You have to consider an application from Fiona Always for a permanent seat in chambers.

Mrs. Erskine-Brown, you were her pupil master.

Mistress.

It is an extremely tough life at the bar for any woman.

And I'm not altogether sure that Always has got what it takes.

Just as a-- for instance, she burst into tears when left alone at Thames Magistrates' Court.

Oh, I know exactly how she felt.

Oh, yes.

Of course, Rumpole has done a case with her.

Well, she took a note for me once.

There was something about her I liked.

What?

She cares strongly about winning.

Who is this fellow, Always?

The fellow's a girl, Uncle Tom.

Oh, good heavens.

Are we getting another one of them?

Ah, oh-oh-oh.

I really don't feel that the mere fact that this girl is a girl should guarantee her a place at 3 Equity Court.

Yes, Phylli is absolutely right.

I mean, we shouldn't take in a token woman.

Rather like taking in a token Black.

Are we taking in a Black woman, then?

Well, why not?

I could have brought one back from Africa.

No.

[tapping] This is obviously a problem that has to be taken seriously.

Yes, well, I feel we should go for a well-established man, someone who's got to know a few solicitors who can bring work into chambers.

Oh, steady on, Portia, old fellow.

Whatever happened to the quality of mercy?

I honestly don't see what mercy's got to do with it.

Dear God, it seems but yesterday when Phyllida Trant, white in wig and green in experience, was accusing Henry, the clerk, of hiding the laboratory key as a sexist gesture.

Can it be that having stormed the citadel, you want to slam the door behind you?

Really, Rumpole, you're not addressing a jury now.

I don't think anyone can possibly accuse this chambers of having the slightest prejudice against female barristers.

- Oh, no.

I'm sure we'll find them absolutely delightful as long as they settle somewhere else.

[clear throat] I don't believe this is generally known, but I have applied for a silk gown.

Oh, you're a sweet little Alice blue?

I'm sure you'd look very pretty in it.

And from what I hear, quite informally, of course-- in the bag, is it Erskine-Brown?

Well, that's not for me to say.

But Phylli is, of course, right behind me in this.

Hmm?

Oh, absolutely.

And so, with two QCs at the top, it would be a great pity if these chambers became weak in the tail.

What would be a pity?

If our tail got weak, Uncle Tom.

Well, of course, it would.

What?

I'm not interested in the sex side, of course, but I just don't feel that always is the right person to carry on the best traditions of these chambers.

I agree.

So young Fiona always must swell the ranks of the unemployed?

Oh, come on, Rumpole.

She's got a rich daddy in Pulborough.

She's not going to starve.

No, but she'll miss the one thing that she's always wanted to do.

Uncle Tom.

I remember a Fiona.

She used to work in the list office.

She wasn't Black, of course.

No, I'm against it.

Yes, well, I think I've got the sense of the meeting.

I shall tell Miss Always she'll have to look elsewhere.

Just a moment.

Yes, Rumpole.

What is it?

This is not the last Thursday in the Hilary term.

No, no.

Of course, it isn't.

No.

Well, we always settle questions of chambers entry on the last Thursday in Hilary term.

Last Thursday of Hilary term.

PORTIA: Do we?

I can't say I remember.

Oh, Claude, it was long before your time.

You were in rompers.

Of course, if the new broom wishes to make radical changes.

But I think we should stick to the old rules, don't you?

After all, we don't want anarchy at number 3 Equity Court, do we?

That's in four weeks' time.

Exactly.

We'll deal with it then.

It shouldn't take long, as we've already reached a decision.

Oh, a mere formality.

Rumpole?

What are you up to?

Nothing, Portia.

Simply preserving the best traditions of these chambers.

- Good morning, Tony.

- Good morning.

Where's Mr. Rumpole?

Care for a fag, Tony?

Do you mind?

Thank you.

Mr. Rumpole is coming along later, is he?

This is Mrs. Erskine-Brown, Tony.

She's going to be your brief.

I see they've charged you with taking part in the robbery, not merely the receiving.

Of course, they've done that on Jerry Molloy's evidence.

Mr. Rumpole has always been the Timsons' brief.

You know that, Mr. Bernard.

Mr. Rumpole defended my father, my Uncle Cyril.

He saw me through my juvenile court, my borstal training.

Mr. Rumpole can't have done all that well for you if you got borstal training.

Please, Tony.

Well, win a few, lose a few.

You know that, missus.

Any particular reason why Gerry Molloy should grass on you, Tony?

Look, it's very good of you to come along.

You ever been at a meet with him where any sort of bank job was ever mentioned?

Hmm?

Molloy says in the deps that he was the sledge, the others had sawn-offs in their holdalls, and that you were the driver.

He says you're pretty good on wheels, Tony.

This is highly embarrassing, this is.

What is, Tony?

Well, you being a woman.

It don't seem right, not with a woman.

Don't think of me as a woman, Tony.

Think of me entirely as a brief.

It's no good.

I keep thinking of my wife, April.

Of course, she's worried about you.

It's only natural seeing you got nicked, Tony.

I don't mean that.

I mean, I wouldn't want a woman like April to do my job, would I?

Briefs and us will get ourselves into a bit of trouble down the Bailey on that.

Well, it's all man's work, isn't it?

But Timsons always were such old-fashioned villains.

Always about half a century behind the times.

It's not your fault, Mr. Bernard.

Wait until my wife gets to hear about this.

They're very hot on women's rights in the Hammersmith SDP.

It is the client's right to choose.

It's awfully decent of you to take it like that, Mrs. Erskine-Brown.

It's no reflection on you, of course, but I'm going to have to take in a chap to lead you.

Yes.

Yes, I just wonder who this chap will be exactly.

Yes, it goes against the grain.

But we don't really have any choice, do we?

Great Erskine-Brown.

Worthy Claude.

"Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter."

[music playing] ♪ Look here.

Ah, Horace.

Alone and palely loitering.

Where's Mrs. Erskine-Brown?

Hello, Jack.

- Hello, Mr. Rumpole.

A glass of cooking claret, please.

You know, I hardly ever seem to see Phylli nowadays.

She's so terribly busy.

Oh, yeah.

She must be enormously pressed now that she's pinched the Timsons from me.

Thanks, dear.

Well, here is to crime.

Do you know what, Horace?

She doesn't come home in the evenings until after Tristan's gone to bed.

Really?

Perhaps then it's just as well that young Fiona Always, isn't coming into chambers.

Oh, you agree?

Well, no.

No, perhaps I'd better not say anything.

What, Rumpole?

No.

Oh, it might have created all sorts of difficulties.

It might have got too much for you to handle.

What might have got too much for me to handle?

Cause all sorts of trouble.

In the spring, a young man's fancy lightly turns to you know what?

And all that sort of thing.

No, it's better that we don't have the fragrant perfume of Miss Always floating around chambers, don't you think?

Well, frankly, I don't suppose I'd have seen much of her.

You would, you know.

Not as a silk.

Claude, you would have been thrown together, chambers meetings, brushing up against her in the clerk's room.

Before you knew what you were about, you'd be out having tea in a chocolate bickie together.

No, terribly dangerous.

Don't be so silly.

Claude, you must admit that Miss Always is a very attractive young lady.

Well, yes.

Yes.

But-- You know what these young women barristers are, like.

Enormously impressionable.

Passionate, even.

And very taken with the rather more mature type of legal hack, especially one teetering on the edge of the knee breeches and a silk gown.

- You don't mean that?

- Oh, yes.

She finds you immensely personable, Claude.

You definitely put her in mind of some film actor or other-- what's his name?

Newbolt.

No, that's a poet.

Newman.

Could that be the bloke?

Ah, ridiculous.

Yes, I know, but all the same.

Far better she doesn't come into chambers.

What you got there, Henry?

It's my packed lunch, Mr. Rumpole.

We don't all get time to go to Pomeroy's wine bar.

No, no, no, in your left hand.

Could that be a brief with my name on it?

Yes, Mr. Bernard just sent this round, case of Timson.

You are leading Mrs. Erskine-Brown.

Henry, you've made up my quarrel with Bernard.

"Come to my arms, my beamish boy!"

Really, Mr. Rumpole.

Well, I did pacify him a bit, I suppose.

[laughs] But you're not to do it again, sir.

I can't see my way to go on clerking for a gentleman that calls instructing solicitor "viper."

Would you prefer "snake in the grass?"

No, don't worry, I'm only joking.

So I am leading brief in Timson.

That's a bank robbery that could last for two weeks.

"He chortled in his joy."

[laughs] Oh.

Ballard.

Oh, it's you.

I thought I'd better give you a friendly warning.

Isn't it you that needs warning?

Henry tells me you've taken to being offensive to Mr. Bernard.

[coughs] It doesn't do chambers any good, you know, to insult a solicitor.

Fascinating character.

Marvelous hair, burnished like the autumn leaves, and that tender, slender throat thrusting up from that stiff white collar.

Mr. Bernard?

Well, of course not!

I'm talking of Mrs. Erskine-Brown, our Portia of chambers.

I don't suppose you smoke?

You know I don't.

What do you do?

I sometimes wonder.

Yes, gorgeous character in many ways, our Portia.

With the most enviable practice, I understand.

Perhaps she's polite to solicitors.

Oh, yes.

Determined to get to the absolute top.

[laughs] Well, I have the highest respect from Phyllis, of course, but-- Yes, but devious.

Brilliant mind, but devious, you visit.

Rumpole, what are you trying to tell me?

The wonderful way she got you to expose your sexual prejudices at that chamber meeting.

Why?

What?

You're blind and Victorian opposition to women in the legal profession.

Yes, she's doing a report on that to the Bar council, I believe, and several articles in The Observer in depth.

But Rumpole, she spoke against Always.

Of course, she did.

What a tactician.

Hmm.

But she seemed totally opposed to the girl.

That was to draw you out, don't you understand?

To get you to show your hand.

And you fell for it, Ballard, hook, line, and sinker.

I can see the headlines now.

"Christian barrister presides over sexist stronghold."

"Bollard, QC, puts the clock back 50 years."

No, no, no.

I didn't take that attitude, surely?

Oh, you will have done by the time our Phyllida's finished with you.

Take my warning.

Don't cross her, Ballard.

She has the ear of the Lord Chancellor.

I don't know whether you had any ideas about some sort of minor judgeship.

[laughs] Of course, there is one thing in your favor.

What?

What?

What's that?

She seems to have taken something of a shine to you, Ballard.

Yes, "Craggily handsome" were the words she used.

[laughs] What are you thinking about, Rumpole?

I know you, Rumpole.

You're lying there thinking about something.

I was thinking of man's attitude to the female of the species.

Oh, were you indeed?

On the one hand, the presence of a woman strikes him with terror.

Oh, really, Rumpole?

And fierce resentment.

Is that what you're thinking?

And yet, not only does he find her indispensable, but irresistible.

[sighs] Faced with a whiff of perfume, for example, he is reduced to a state bordering on the imbecilic.

Rumpole, are you really?

She is a woman, "therefore may be wooed."

She is a woman, "therefore may be won."

Oh!

Oh, Rumpole!

[snores] Oh, Rumpole!

RUMPOLE: Hail to thee, blithe Bernard.

We're taking you on in the express wishes of the client's, Mr. Rumpole, just for this case.

Mr. Rumpole, I'm April Timson.

Tony is glad you're going to be as brief.

Oh, Mrs. Timson.

And who's this?

That's our young Vincent.

He's been in to see his dad.

Delighted to meet you, Vincent.

[laughs] Let me know the moment he gets into trouble.

Straight up.

It's a sodding plant.

Pardon my French.

Don't be so silly, Tony.

But what sort of a plant exactly?

A floribunda of the serious Crime Squad, or some exotic bloom cultivated by the Molloys.

That DI Brush-- he's got no love for the Timsons.

Neither have the Molloys.

That's true Mr. Rumpole.

It's very true.

Oh, so why not a plant by the grasser's family?

It's possible, isn't it?

I'd say it's typical.

So some person unknown brought in the cash and put it in your super snow-white, extra-deluxe easy-wash?

The jury may wonder how Tony can afford all these luxuries out of window cleaning.

It's not a luxury.

It's something my wife April says you've got to have.

[laughs] You know how Tony affords these things, Mrs. Erskine-Brown?

He's a minor villain.

Small stuff.

Let's look at the form.

There you are.

Warehouse-breaking, shop-breaking, housebreaking, criminal damage to a set of traffic lights.

I misjudged a turning, Mr. Rumpole.

Oh, "Dangerous driving, careless driving, driving without due care and attention, failure to report an accident."

I say, oh, love, if I get you out of this mess, you must promise me not to give me a lift home.

It can be lonely at the top, Fiona.

I mean, you might wonder what it feels like to be on the brink of becoming a QC.

I tell you, lonely.

But you've got Mrs. Erskine-Brown.

Mrs. Erskine-Brown?

[sighs] I seem to see so little of Hilda nowadays.

Pressure of work, of course.

No, there comes a time in this job when a person feels terribly alone.

So I suppose so.

I envy you those happy, carefree days when you hop from magistrate's court to magistrate's court, picking up little crumbs of indecent exposure.

Frozen chicken.

What?

I was doing a case about frozen chicken pieces.

Ah.

Is that old Rumpole over there?

Why?

Can't you see without your glasses?

No, hard feelings, Portia.

All that about me being brought in to lead you, I mean.

Just a few.

Oh.

What are you having to drink?

A glass of cooking claret, if you insist.

Why not a bottle?

Why not indeed.

Jack, a bottle of Mr. Rumpole's usual medicine.

Just two glasses, please.

Right.

And if ever you should have the slightest problem of a legal nature, or anything else, come to that, don't hesitate, Fiona.

A silk's door is always open to a member of chambers, however junior.

A member of chambers?

Barristers and criminals-- two of the most conservative professions.

[laughs] Excuse me.

Oh, I'm sure.

I mean, I know some old squares are ridiculously prejudiced against women.

But speaking for myself, I have absolutely no objection to a pretty face around number 3 Equity Court.

Haven't you, Claude?

Ah, Phylli.

Are you going to join us for a drink?

You know Fiona, of course.

Who?

Oh, yes, I know Always.

Somebody's birthday.

Ahem.

I saw your light on.

Mrs. Erskine-Brown, you won't mind me calling you Phyllis?

If you want to.

It doesn't happen to be my name.

Ah!

Burning the midnight oil?

It's only half past 6:00.

Ah, yes.

I never married, of course.

Lucky you.

I lead what I imagine you'd call a bit of a bachelor life in Dulwich.

A decent-sized flat, though.

All that sort of thing.

Oh, good.

Yes, I just didn't want you to run away with the idea that I didn't like women because I do like women very much indeed.

I am a perfectly normal sort of chap, in that regard.

Oh, jolly good.

Yes, as a matter of fact, I-- I have to confess this to you.

I find the sight of a woman wigged and wearing a winged collar, surprisingly-- well, let's be honest about this-- alluring.

I saw you the other day robed up, going up the stairs to the law courts.

Really?

I was on my way to do a divorce.

Oh, yes.

Well, I just didn't want you to be under any illusions.

I am thoroughly in favor of women from every point of view.

Well, I'm sure the news will come as an enormous relief to the women of the world.

Ah, no, I don't want it published in the papers.

I just thought I'd make it perfectly clear to you during the course of private conversation.

Well, you've made it clear, Ballard.

Please, Sam.

All right, Sam, you've made it terribly clear.

Ah, look, someday, when you're not in court, why don't you let me take you out for a spot of lunch?

They do a very decent set meal at the Ludgate Hotel.

I've got to put this out to post.

Yes, of course.

[whistles] Good heavens, Portia, whatever happened?

You left me to finish the bottle.

Has everyone in this chambers gone completely out of their heads?

What do you mean?

Sam Ballard just made the most disgusting suggestion to me.

Soapy Sam.

What did he say?

He invited me to have the set lunch at the Ludgate Hotel.

Good night, Rumpole.

Oh, good night, Portia.

The Lord Chancellor?

Good Lord!

Oh, Mr. Rumpole, any more news about my getting into chambers?

There is a tide in the affairs of lady barristers, Fiona, which, taken at the flood, leads on to God knows where.

What does that mean?

It means that they'll either take you in or chuck me out.

Good luck to both of us.

[cluttering] Oh, Rumpole!

Mr. Rumpole, Tony says you've never let the Timsons down, Mr. Rumpole.

Mr. Timsons, how is young Vincent today?

Otherwise engaged, is he?

Oh, he's with my friend Chrissie.

Talk to you later.

I swear by Almighty God that I will faithfully try the several issues joined between our sovereign lady, the Queen, and the prisoner at the bar.

RUMPOLE: His Honor, Judge Leonard Dover, QC, known to his intimates as Bluebird.

There he sits, and about as many laughs in him as a digital computer.

Members of the jury, this is a case in which it seems there is a particular danger of your being approached by someone.

That often happens in trials of alleged armed robbery, by what is known as a gang of serious professional criminals.

What is going on?

Time to throw a spanner into his programming.

My Lord!

You will be particularly on your guard and purely for your assistance, of course, you will be kept under police observation.

What is it, Mr. Rumpole?

Don't you want this jury to be protected from interference?

My Lord, I do not want this jury told that this case concerns a serious crime before one word of evidence has been heard.

I do not want it suggested that my client is a member of a top-drawer professional criminal organization, when the truth may be that he is simply a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.

I do not want the jury nobbled, my Lord, but nobbled they have already been in my respectful submission by your Lordship's warning.

Rumpole, that is an extraordinary suggestion coming from you.

It was in answer to an extraordinary statement by your Lordship.

What is your application, Mr. Rumpole?

I would ask that a new jury be impaneled, My Lord, that will not have heard any prejudicial statements about my client.

Your application is refused.

Naturally.

Members of the jury, I have already made it perfectly clear that nothing I have said contains any suggestion whatever against Mr. Timson.

There is therefore no prejudice against the accused.

Who does he think he's fooling?

I'm sorry, I didn't hear you.

I must accept your Lordship's ruling.

Yes, Mr. Rumpole.

I think you must.

That's right.

That's it.

Get in there.

Good.

Mr. Molloy, I want to come now to the facts of the Pond Hill bank raid.

How many of you were engaged on that particular enterprise?

I was the sledge man.

There was five of us altogether.

Five of you counting the driver?

Yes, sir.

Did you see the driver?

Of course I did.

The driver picked me up at the meet.

Who was he?

Tony Timson.

The defendant, Timson, you have no doubt about that?

Of course, not.

ATTORNEY: Thank you, Mr. Molloy.

Mr. Gerry Molloy, you have turned Queen's evidence in this case.

Come again?

Well, translated into everyday English, you have become a grass, not a super grass, just a common or garden ordinary sort of a grass.

[laughter] Members of the jury, this is not a place of public entertainment.

You are giving evidence for the prosecution because you were caught.

Not being a particularly efficient sledge man, you tripped over your own holdall on the pavement and missed the getaway car.

You were apprehended, Mr. Molloy, in the gutter?

They nicked me, yes.

And you have already received a sentence of two years' imprisonment for your part in the robbery.

I've got two, yes.

A considerable reduction because you agreed with the police to grass on your colleagues.

I got under the odds, yes.

Oh, considerably under the odds.

And for that, you're prepared to betray your family.

Come again?

Well, three of your colleagues were members of the clan Molloy, were they not?

They were Molloys, yes.

And only one Timson?

Yes.

The Molloys hate and despise the Timsons, do they not?

Don't get on.

No, it's traditional, although-- Although what?

Well, I believe my cousin Shawn's wife, Chrissie, they're separating from lives quite close to Tony Timson and his wife.

And well, that's where we had our meet for the bank job.

Oh, indeed.

Thank you.

However, generally speaking, it is true, isn't it, that the Molloys are in a different league from the Timsons?

What league is that, Mr. Rumpole?

The big league, My Lord.

You and your relatives, on your own admission, did the Barclays Bank job at Penge, the Midland Bank at Croydon and the NatWest at Barking?

That's what I said.

You spread your favors fairly evenly around the money market.

However, have you ever known a Timson to be present at such a big job as a bank raid before?

Not as I can remember, but my brother Charlie was off sick, and we were short of a driver.

Well, perhaps you were, but we don't know that, do we?

Because the rest of your colleagues seem to have vanished.

My Lord, I explain to the Jury.

Determined efforts to trace the other participants in this robbery are still being made by the police.

If my learned friend wants to give evidence, perhaps your lordship would like him in the witness box.

Mr. Rumpole, that comment was quite uncalled for.

Don't tease him.

Yes, I agree, my Lord, It was.

However, with most of your relatives gone to ground, you needed a victim, did you not, to justify your privileged situation as a grass?

A victim?

So you decided to pick on one of the despised Timsons and put him in the frame?

Put him in the what, Mr. Rumpole?

In the driving seat, my Lord, where he certainly never was.

He was there, I told you.

And having decided to frame Tony Timson, was it a member of the Molloy family who planted a packet of stolen money in his house?

Well, it couldn't have been this member of the family, could it, Mr. Rumpole?

The witness has been in custody ever since.

Yes, my Lord, since the robbery.

However, you did receive visits in prison, did you not before you made your statement to the police?

A few visits, yes.

From your wife?

One or two.

Was it through her that the word went out to plant the money on Tony Timson?

I wouldn't ask my wife to do them sort of messages.

[machine whirring] So Inspector Brush, Gerry Molloy made his statement to the police two days after the bank raid at about 2:30 in the afternoon.

About 2:35 to be precise.

Oh, please.

Yes, I'm sure the learned judge would like you to be very precise.

And you went round to the Timson's house straight away?

We did.

In a police car with the siren blaring?

I think we may have had the siren on for some of the time.

We weren't in a hurry.

And you were fortunate enough to find him at home?

Well, he wasn't out doing the window cleaning, sir.

Oh, very entertaining, inspector.

Highly risable.

Did he open the door to you at once?

As soon as we knocked, yes.

There was no sort of interval, for example, while he tried to find a better hiding place for the money?

Perhaps he was happy with where it was, sir.

Perhaps, inspector, he didn't know it was there at all.

I don't know about that, sir.

Do you not?

One last point.

Was it Gerry Molloy who told you that Tony Timson was a dangerous member of a big-time robbery firm that might try to nobble the jury?

He told us that, yes.

And so a solemn warning was given to the jury by the learned judge on the word of a self-confessed criminal and informer.

Yes.

But didn't that warning give quite an unfair impression of Tony Timson?

Unfair, sir?

Well, come now, Inspector, you would never nominate Tony Timson for the serious crime Oscar, would you?

He is a small-time thief who specializes in relieving householders of their home entertainment, video machines, teasmade, and suchlike, is he not?

Yes, well, it would seem to be so, sir.

It would seem to be so.

Thank you, Inspector.

That money in the washing machine, Tony, somebody put it there.

But who and when?

Does April go out much?

Well, she takes young Vince around to a friend.

But her friend, Chrissie?

I think that's her name.

But I've never met the woman.

No.

Money was found in the kitchen.

Do you do a lot of cooking?

Oh, leave it out, Mr. Rumpole.

No.

What about washing up?

Of course not.

That's April's job, isn't it?

Yeah, I suppose it's only barristers that spend their evenings up to their wrists in fairy liquid.

And I don't suppose you run young Vince's smalls through the washing machine either?

Would I be expected to do a job like that, would I?

You mean it would be rather like having a woman defend you?

Oh, it's nothing personal.

It's just not natural.

Really?

I find my husband's quite a good performer on the spin dryer.

Poor bloke.

Let's take it that you leave all the household chores to April.

When does she do the washing, on a Monday?

Yeah, I suppose so.

The bank raid was on a Monday.

Gerry Molloy made his statement to the police on Wednesday afternoon, and the police were around to your place straight away.

Whoever planted that money didn't have much time.

I don't know.

I told you I never go near the bleeding washing machine.

No.

Exactly.

See you tomorrow, Tony.

Come on, Portia.

I think we've got what we want.

[TRAFFIC HUMMING, ENGINE REVVING] [honking] [engine revving] [tires squeaking] Lord, whatever is the matter?

You look distinctly seedy.

The silk list, Rumpole.

Have you seen the new QCs?

Well, no, I haven't got past the crossword.

Have you got it?

Oh, yeah.

Well, there's your name.

What are you worried about?

- My name?

Erskine-Brown.

Mrs. Oh, Mrs.

Yes, I do see.

She never warned me, Rumpole.

I had no idea she'd even applied.

Had you?

No.

Have you spoken to her about it?

Well, she left home this morning before the paper came.

And now she's gone to ground and the ladies' robing room.

I say do you think there might be some sort of a misprint?

Excuse me.

A matter of business.

Allow me.

Oh, you're very kind, Mr. Rumpole.

Only sometimes.

Thank you.

Well, how's young Vincent today?

Chrissie Molloy looking after him properly, is she?

Chrissie's all right.

Well, Tony doesn't know she's a Molloy.

No, there seems to be a lot Tony doesn't know.

We was at school together, me and Chrissie.

Anyway, she's left Shawn.

Yes, but they're still friendly.

Hmm.

Close enough for the Molloy family to plot their villainies in Chrissie's house.

Did she tell you they were short of a driver?

Short for what?

Oh, come along April.

They would never have used Tony in 1,000 years.

He'd have picked up three parking tickets and hit a milk float before he got clear of the bank.

You, on the other hand, I happen to have noticed very much at home with wheels.

What about where you hid your cut of the loot, in one place you knew Tony would never look?

What's the matter?

Wasn't his income big enough for you?

Well, what are you going to do about it?

You can't prove nothing, Mr. Rumpole.

What are you going to do about it, April.

That's more to the point.

Now leave it out, Mrs. Timson.

Let it alone, April.

It's man's work.

Let them make a mess of it.

I imagine this was the first time?

It had better be the last.

[chattering] Why didn't Gerry Molloy identify her?

He was too ashamed.

Don't you understand?

How could the mighty Molloys admit that they used a woman driver?

What on Earth are we going to do?

Well, we can't prove it was April.

Let's hope they can't prove it was Tony.

The jury don't much care for the mini grass, and the Molloys could have planted that money.

There's only one thing to do.

I'll give them the speech about-- --reasonable doubt.

No, I will.

USHER: Be upstanding.

What?

Don't you read "The Times," Rumpole?

I've taken silk.

I'm your leader now.

JUDGE: Yes, Mr. Rumpole?

Ah, Mrs. Erskine-Brown.

I believe that certain congratulations are in order.

Yes, my Lord, I believe they are.

Ah!

That's really straight.

Members of the jury, in little while this case will be over.

You will return to your jobs and your families, and you will forget all about it.

At the most, it is only a small part of your lives.

But for my client, Tony Timson, it is the whole of his life.

And it is that I leave with confidence in your hands, certain that there can be only one verdict in this case, not guilty.

Splendid speech.

Yes, it always was.

Portia of Belmont.

Phyllida Erskine-Brown.

Fiona Always.

The great tradition of female advocates must go on.

You just want to win that case as well, don't you?

You want to beat the Chambers meeting?

Why shouldn't we take Always in?

Over my dead body.

Well, done, Mrs. Erskine-Brown.

Thank you, Mr. Bernard.

Why not?

Rumpole, she was making a play for Claude.

I found them all over each other in Pomeroy's Wine bar.

That's when I got so angry.

I applied for silk.

Without telling your husband?

Yes, I'm afraid so.

I see, I'd better come clean about all this.

Rumpole, what have you been doing?

Well, I just wanted old Claude to look with a warm and friendly eye on young Fiona.

That's all I thought it might increase the chance of getting into Chambers.

I suppose you told him that she fancied him.

Would I do such a thing?

Absolutely, definitely if you wanted to win badly enough.

I imagine you told him that she thought he looked like Robert Redford.

I protest, that is utterly untrue.

It was Paul Newman.

And had always actually said that.

You want the truth?

Make a change.

No, she hadn't.

Poor old Claude.

You know what you were doing, Rumpole.

You can't rely on a girl to get in on her own talents.

Well, you must admit the cards are pretty well stacked.

You have to rely and manipulate male vanity.

You were simply exploiting the male sex.

Well, now you know, will you vote for Fiona?

Tell me one good reason.

Ballard's against her.

Yes, well, I suppose that is one good reason.

And all because of you, I've ended up as silk.

Yeah.

Rumpole, what on Earth can I tell Claude?

He'd feel a great deal better about it if there was no damn merit in this thing, wouldn't he?

Mhm.

Tell him the Lord Chancellor simply thinks there aren't enough women silks.

That's why you got it.

Good idea.

Hmm.

Rumpole, is that true?

Well, it's possible, isn't it?

Tony, you drive.

Honest?

Yeah.

Oh.

You know, I always feel safe with you, Tony.

Oh.

[engine starting] [engine revving] Haven't you noticed anything, Rumpole?

Hmm?

You've got a new hairdo?

Have you?

The wall, Rumpole.

Have a look at the wall.

The shelf I put up.

That fell down.

Good Lord!

It's had pups!

What happened?

You get a man in, did you?

Yes.

Me.

In this great profession of ours-- Amen.

--we are sometimes accused of prejudice against the female sex.

True.

But that cannot be said of us here in number 3 Equity Court.

As in so many other things, we take the lead and set the example.

We are gathered here today to celebrate the well-deserved promotion of Mrs. Phyllis Erskine-Brown to the front bench.

ALL: Hear!

Hear!

Congratulations.

She's rather put old Claude's nose out of joint.

Phylli looks remarkably fine in a silk gown, don't you think?

Oh, gorgeous!

And to welcome your new member of our set, young-- Fiona Always.

Fiona Always!

ALL: Hear!

Hear!

Oh, yes.

You were having us on, Horace.

She's no more Black than I am.

[laughs] But you know, between ourselves, Rumpole-- Yeah, Phylli only got it because it's the Lord Chancellor's policy to appoint more women QCs.

Good Lord, Claude, you're the victim of discrimination.

Oh.

Never mind, Claude, at least one of the family is bringing in the money.

[laughs] But Phyllis made me a promise.

Next year, she's going to take some time off.

Oh, good.

Maybe I'll get some of my work back.

And we're going to have a little companion for Tristan.

Oh, you sob.

Well done, Always.

Welcome to the set.

Thank you, Mrs. Erskine-Brown.

And look, just one thing.

Hmm.

Not culottes.

What?

If you're going to get on at the bar and it is a pretty tough profession, just don't go in for these sort of baggy trouser arrangements.

Just not on.

No, remember that always, Always.

Well, a fellow looks so much better in a skirt.

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