[theme music] ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ [thunder rumbling] [shots firing] [classical music] ♪ ♪ [non-english speech] [non-english speech] [non-english speech] The Temple, England.

Horace Rumpole.

We are the Pilgrims, master.

We must always go a little further.

This plate is not properly washed up, Rumpole.

Away, for we are ready to a man.

A camel sniffed the evening and are glad.

Lead on, o masters of the caravan.

Lead on, o merchant princes of Baghdad!

I don't know why you always choose the washing up, Rumpole.

Why can't you dry?

Well, washing is more fun.

Not when you leave bits of gravy, untouched by the mop.

What's it matter?

A bit of yesterday's gravy never hurt anyone.

You might be glad of that one day.

It may be beyond the last blue mountain barred with snow Across that angry or that glimmering sea.

I really don't know what you're talking about.

Let's face it, Hilda, there's not much adventure going on around Gloucester Road, is there?

Unless you count the thrilling choice between wiping the dishes and sloshing them about in a mess of plastic bottles, soap suds.

Well, I think you are getting a little too old for adventure.

Ah, do you?

Do you know where I've spent the last three weeks?

In an Earth-shaking case of unpaid value added tax on plastic egg timers in Sydenham.

Sydenham.

Travels Rumpole east away.

[phone rings] Not this week.

Take the cloth and help me with the rest of the drying up.

2045.

Hilda Rumpole speaking.

Just who?

Justitia?

Who is she?

She is a sort of blind goddess healer who goes around lugging a blooming great sword and a pair of scales.

Rumpole speaking.

Yes, Justitia International.

Yes, I know your organization.

Who?

David Mazenze!

Of course, I remember him.

I taught him in crammer's.

Who is it, Rumpole?

Well, I see the occasional reference in "The Times."

Oh, he's got himself into a bit of trouble out there, has he?

Lunch tomorrow?

Yes, of course.

Where about?

The Venezia in Fleet Street?

Certainly.

1 o'clock?

Fine.

Yes, I'll see you then.

Bye.

What's the matter with you, Rumpole?

You look very pleased with yourself.

Oh, but of course, Dodo Mackintosh is coming to stay next week.

She'll be with us for two whole days.

Isn't that nice?

Oh, Dodo is descending on us, is she?

That makes it even better.

Makes it better?

We take the Golden road to Samarkand.

USHER: David Mazenze, prisoner at the bar.

Stand.

With regard to your application for bail, pending your trial for the willful murder of Bishop Kareele, this application is refused.

As I would have expected.

With regard to your application for legal representation, there are many most experienced Narangan counsel available to you.

How many who are not in the prime minister's pocket?

On that application, judgment is reserved.

So that you can get your instructions from on high.

Take him down.

USHER: Be upstanding.

Prime Minister.

My dear Worthington.

This is indeed an honor.

And for me.

Naranga, a lump of land carved out by the British, who called it New Somerset.

Ah.

Capital, Nova Lombaro, deeply divided into two tribes, the Apu and Matatu, who hate each other's guts, so much so that if an Apu man marries a Matatu girl, both their families throw them out, and they are cursed forever.

Well, the sort of thing that goes on in Surrey.

Yes.

Well, Prime Minister, Dr. Christopher Mabile, a member of the Matatu tribe of warriors and headhunters not so long ago, he's a Marxist, educated by the Jesuits fathers who sent him to Balliol.

Got his medical degree in Moscow, postgrad in Cuba.

When the country got independence, he had to have a token Apu in his cabinet.

So he made David Mazenze his Minister of Home Affairs.

There he is.

Oh, yes.

That's David.

He looks a lot older than I remember.

Oh, of course, that's to be expected, isn't it?

David.

David is one of the more peaceful Apus.

The British locked him up for about 10 years, but he never bore a grudge.

Moderate socialist.

Good friend to Justitia.

Sound on land reform and contraception.

Excellent chairman of the famine program, an absolutely marvelous voice.

Yeah.

Did he do it, do you think, Ms. Pinkerton?

It's a thrilling sort of voice.

Of course, the Apu people absolutely worship David.

But did he do in the dear, old bishop?

We've had reports from reliable sources that Mabile has got David locked up in the most ghastly conditions.

There could have been torture.

Miss Pinkerton, did our David do it?

Do you know?

I don't know whether we've actually asked him that.

Hello, Amanda.

Oh, here's Pam.

We've had a cable from Jonathan Mazenze.

David's younger brother, he's been a tower of strength.

What's it say, Pam?

"Barrister Rumpole will be allowed to represent David at trial.

These are being arranged.

Greetings, Jonathan Mazenze."

We're in luck.

Is there anything else you want to know?

Yes.

What do they give a chap for murder in those particular parts?

It's death, isn't it, Mandy?

Oh, yes.

The prime minister can't wait to hang David.

You've got to save his life.

Is that all?

[whistling] Anything exciting on, Henry?

Afraid not, Mr. Rumpole.

There's a little murder down the Bailey, but that won't be for two or three weeks.

A mysterious crime done with a broken Guinness bottle in a crowded pub in Kilburn.

Routine stuff.

Henry.

Legal spam.

Inland revenue.

No, thank you.

I would have thought, with your immense talent as the clerk of Chambers, you could have found me something a little more exotic.

Well, perhaps you'd care to find your own exotica if you're not satisfied with my clerking, Mr. Rumpole.

I have done, Henry.

You shall be receiving a brief from Justitia International, and I am defending the minister for Home Affairs in the High Court of Naranga.

Oh, you'll be away from Chambers?

Yes, of course, I'll be away.

They should look for me in the inner London sessions and the Uxbridge Magistrates' Court.

And they will find me gone.

They will whisper among themselves.

Travels Rumpole East Away.

You seem very cheerful about it, Mr. Rumpole.

My camel sniffed the evening, Dianne, and are glad.

For she who must be obeyed old school chum, Dodo Mackintosh, is coming for a short stay next week.

What a pity.

I shall miss all those jollifications!

Adventure calls, Henry.

And how can Rumpole resist it?

If there's any crisis, send a cable.

A cable?

Or a pigeon.

Look out, Rumpole.

Where are you going?

I take the Golden Road to Samarkand.

Where are you going?

Ha ha!

[airplane engines whirring] Ah, porter.

RUMPOLE (VOICEOVER): How do you do a case of capital murder?

Death, if you ask the wrong question.

Death, if you don't object to the right bit of evidence.

Death around every corner and every legal argument.

Answer-- do it like every other case.

Win it if you can.

Win it, or else.

Object of visit?

Justice?

Open.

RUMPOLE (VOICEOVER): I bet they never had this on the Golden Road to Samarkand.

18 hours hurtling through space in a small, plastic, cigar-shaped tea room with nowhere to put your legs and a hostile glare from the major general in charge of customs.

Just when you're crying out for a spot of shuteye.

Your clothing?

No, my mosquito net.

My wife bought it at the Army and Navy stores, 1951.

Drugs?

No, just my wife's going-away presents.

Uh.

Foot powder.

[non-english speech] Thank you.

Carry on, sir.

Oh.

Oh, allow me, sir.

Thank you.

Horace Rumpole!

A piece of him.

I'm arguing in the Mazenze case.

Rupert Taboro.

Ah, Mr. Taboro.

Looking forward to seeing how you Old Bailey fellows handle a homicide.

Oh, thank you.

Anything you need, anything at all, just ask for me.

For Mr. Taboro.

The Attorney-General.

Oh.

Thank you very much indeed.

Don't mention it, old fellow.

After all, we learned friends have got to stick together.

FREDDY: Mr. Rumpole!

Yes.

Freddy Ruingo, instructing solicitor.

Oh, how do you do?

You got through the formalities.

- Yes, surprisingly.

- Good.

Come on.

I'll take you to the car.

Thank you.

Then we go to the prison.

Yes.

Then we have a reception David's wife and brothers are giving for you.

You'll meet the leaders of our Apu People's Party there.

RUMPOLE: I don't understand why David Mazenze didn't have some big British QC out here to defend him.

FREDDY: Oh, David believes in the very common man, Mr. Rumpole.

He just wanted an ordinary little lawyer, like yourself, a perfectly lowly fellow.

Thank you very much.

[laughs] Oh, but someone typical of British justice.

Quite incorruptible.

Not draughty in this car, are you?

Oh, no.

Some clever Matatu chucked an assegai through the back window.

They fall out of the trees, those fellows.

You've come to see David Mazenze.

Let me introduce Mr. Horace Rumpole, barrister at law, Inner Temple, from London.

Superintendent Akimbu, Special Branch.

Superintendent.

They're holding David here at police headquarters.

Don't want him mixed up with the plebs at Lombaro jail.

You want to visit our dungeons, Mr. Rumpole?

Yes, I heard about them in London.

I would like to see my client, please.

It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Rumpole.

You know Croydon well?

Croydon?

No, not very well.

I did six months with your special branch in London.

The old Baptist head in Croydon.

Wonderful Draught bass.

Remember me to it.

Yes.

This way, please.

We've got your client chained to the wall down here.

You had better watch out for the rats and the water dripping from the moat.

Mr. Mazenze, gentlemen come all the way from London to see you.

[classical music] Dear old Horace Rumpole.

What's your tipple?

Bordeaux, if my memory serves me right.

Freddy.

Well, wait till they hear about this in Wormwood Scrubs.

I have few friends in the French embassy.

Oh, yes.

Well, your friends at Justitia International.

Oh, such good chaps, if not all that experienced politically.

Well, they said that you'd be chained to the wall in the chateau d'If, with rising damp and the bread and water just out of reach.

Even Dr. Death wouldn't dare do that to me.

Doctor?

Le bon docteur, Christophe Mabile.

The prime minister, whose culture is firmly founded on the Inquisition and the KGB.

Stirred up with some of the basic cannibalism of the Matatu tribe.

Forgive Freddy.

He makes such primitive remarks.

Tribalism is our curse, however, just as the British class system is yours.

What?

PG Wodehouse.

Mmm.

I think of England so often.

I long for your Cotswolds, if Dr. Death ever lets me see them again.

If I should die, think only this of me, Horace.

There is some corner of a Narangan jailhouse that is forever Moreton-in-the-Marsh.

[laughs] RUMPOLE (VOICEOVER): I never saw a man facing a death sentence look so confoundedly cheerful.

What can it be?

The certainty of innocence or the wine?

Right now, the dead man, Bishop Kareele.

Oh, a troublemaker as only an African bishop can be.

He wanted the prime minister's job.

He wanted my job.

He was always causing trouble between the Apu and the Matatu people.

I told you, Horace, tribal hatred is the curse of our politics.

Well, the evidence says that you threatened him.

You quarreled outside the parliament buildings, and you said to the bishop, I'll kill you.

All right.

I quarreled with the man.

He quarreled with everyone.

Now his death is set at 9:30 PM on the 8th of March.

Now, that's when the shots were heard.

Where were you then, exactly?

Does it matter?

Well, of course, it matters.

I had a speech to make the next day, an important statement of policy at Apu People's Congress.

So I went out in my car to drive around and think about it.

What time do you go on?

I said in my statement, about 8:30.

What time do you get back?

After 11:00.

My wife Grace made some coffee, and we listened to music.

I always like to listen to music for half an hour before turning in.

Well, what was the speech?

Hmm?

RUMPOLE: Well, I mean, what were you going to say?

It was a plea for friendship between the Apu and the Matatu people that we should all work together for the good of Naranga.

Did you ever make it?

How could I?

I was arrested.

RUMPOLE: Ah, yes.

Well, how does it look to you?

Well, cases of identification are always tricky.

And I have known healthier alibis.

You won't win this one on alibis, Horace.

You want to know what you will have to rely on?

I'd welcome-- I'd welcome suggestions.

The common law of England, the presumption of innocence.

You know what you told me.

"The golden thread which runs through the history of the law."

I like that phrase so very much.

You have a remarkable memory for those things I told you all those years ago.

A man is innocent until proved guilty.

Better that 10 guilty men should go free than one who is not guilty should be convicted.

For to convict the innocent is to-- BOTH: Spit in the face of justice.

[laughs] Do you still use that one, Horace, in your speech to the jury at the old London session?

Well, I'm afraid I do from time to time.

After all, a jury in Naranga can't be that different.

Mr. Rumpole?

Members of the jury, the evidence in this case calls for guesswork.

Now, you may use guesswork to pick the winner of the Derby, but it is no way to bring in a verdict on a capital charge of murder against a fellow human being.

Steady on, Mr. Rumpole.

We have no jury.

No jury?

You British abolished jury murder cases when Naranga was still New Somerset.

We did that?

I must say, Dr. Death followed your example quite enthusiastically.

No jury.

What about the judge?

Oh, Worthington Banzana.

You remember that old fellow?

What did you say he always ordered for tea after death sentences?

Muffins.

You mean Justice Twyburne?

Exactly.

Our Chief Justice is like a Justice Twyburne, only Black, eh, Freddy?

And he is Dr. Death's chicken.

He will run for him wherever he wants him to go.

ALL: ♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪ ♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪ ♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪ ♪ And so say all of us ♪ Hooray!

Mr. Rumpole.

Freddy.

Beer?

7Up?

Scotch on the rocks?

Oh, beer, please.

Let me introduce Grace Mazenze, David's wife.

Mrs. Mazenze.

It is good of you to come here.

Nice of you to ask me, as they say.

To save David, I mean.

Ah, yes.

I can't promise that, you know.

He remembers you so well.

He has often talked about you if things went wrong.

He has so much faith in you.

Yes, well, I'll do everything I can, I promise you.

But in the end, a barrister is not much better than his case.

Well, I mean, you can't make bricks without straw.

I don't understand.

Well, we could do with a bit of evidence.

Don't you worry, Grace.

No one can harm David.

David's one of the immortals.

Jonathan Mazenze, the little brother.

Little Jonathan.

Mr. Rumpole.

Oh, thank you, Freddy.

Yes.

And was my big brother delighted to see you, his old hero from his student days?

He said you used to tease the judges.

Oh, yes.

He said you used to pull their legs unmercifully.

One or two judicial legs, I suppose.

Yeah.

And that you always dropped cigar ash down your stomach?

Yes, he would remember that.

Excuse me.

Yes.

What did you tell Grace we needed to win the case for David?

Well, a witness or two wouldn't come amiss.

What sort of witnesses do you want, exactly?

Well, someone who saw David on the night of the murder.

I mean, he said he was just driving around composing his speech.

You want some fellows who saw him?

Well, I think I can arrange that.

How many fellows do you want?

Half a dozen?

No, no, no, you can't arrange it.

I want a witness who will stand up in court and tell the truth.

How very British you are, Mr. Horace Rumpole.

Well, that's one of the reasons why I'm here.

I'm here as a representative of British justice.

David doesn't need all that humbug.

David needs the anger of the Apu people.

If David is found guilty, there are 10,000 Apu with their guns hidden in the bush who will rescue him in one hour.

That's how we win this case.

Don't you worry, my dear old barrister.

I'd prefer to rely on the way we do it down the Old Bailey.

No, Dr. Death's gone too far this time.

The Apu people are on the move.

I must be on the move too.

Which way is the gents?

[non-english speech] Apu.

CROWD: Apu, Apu, Apu, Apu, Apu, Apu, Apu, Apu.

What's this?

A party political broadcast on behalf of the Apu People's Party?

CROWD: Apu, Apu, Apu.

Could I have a call tomorrow morning, please, at 6 o'clock?

Room 51.

And some coffee and a copy of "The Time."

Oh, no.

Never mind.

Rumpole.

Rum-- pole.

[indistinct chatter] Ah, Mr. Rumbold, I presume, Rumpole.

All hail, all hail!

I've just been having dinner here with Mr. And Mrs. Singapore.

We all call ourselves after our countries as diplomats, don't we, Mr. Singapore?

I'm known as Mr. Old England.

Sir Arthur Remnant, British High Commissioner.

How do you do?

- How do you do?

Now, Mr. Singapore, this is our notable British barrister.

Do remind me again.

Rumpole.

Oh, yes.

Yes, of course.

You must come and have dinner one evening at the High Commission.

Our problem is that the cook is so terribly anglophile.

Everything tastes of Bisto.

I say, it must be very exciting for you doing a murder trial out here.

Topping.

Oh, ripping.

No, I meant topping.

Swinging.

See,well, they are very Victorian here in Naranga.

It's all Baptist chapels, plum jam, and the death penalty.

The black cap does add a little zest to a murder trial, don't you think?

I don't imagine my client would think so.

No.

No, I suppose not.

I must say, I was amazed that you got permission to come here.

Oh?

Christopher Mabile must have something up his sleeve.

Brilliant politician.

We could do with him in the Commonwealth relations.

Anyway, welcome, Rumbelow.

We'll throw a little cocktail for you.

Come on, Mr. Singapore.

I'll tell you what I was going to tell you.

The thing is that this man-- How fearfully topping.

CROWD: Rumpole!

Rumpole!

Rumpole!

Rumpole!

Rumpole!

Welcome, Mr. Horace Rumpole.

CROWD: Rumpole!

Rumpole!

Rumpole!

Rumpole!

Rumpole!

Rumpole!

Rumpole!

Rumpole!

Rumpole!

Oh, dear.

Fresh collar, I think.

Oh, damn and blast it!

Where do I get hold of a collar stud in the middle of the jungle?

Here you are, my learned friend.

I had a gross of these little chaps flown in from Harrods.

Be my guest.

That's uncommonly civil of you.

Thank you.

Merely in accord with the best traditions of the bar.

I see young Jonathan Mazenze had his friends from Rent-An-Apu were there to greet you.

Oh, yes.

It was very encouraging, I must say, to see the people cheering on my victory.

Your victory?

Hmm.

Do you really think that's what they want?

Are you Magnus Nagoma?

I am.

You are in government service.

I am Permanent Private Secretary to the minister for Home Affairs.

The defendant is your boss?

Yes, yes.

"He is my boss."

Mr. Nagoma, do you remember a day last July when you went to meet your boss outside the parliament building?

I do, yes.

He was there with Bishop Kareele.

They were having an argument.

Mmm?

A heated argument?

Oh, please, don't lead.

I hear my learned friend's objection.

I'm afraid I didn't, I must confess.

Mr. Rumpole, is it no longer customary in England to stand on your hind legs if you wish to make an objection?

Yes, My Lord.

Then I would like to object to a leading question.

It's a very heated argument, yes.

Too late, I think, Mr. Rumpole.

RUMPOLE (VOICEOVER): Oh, what have I got here?

A Black Judge Bullingham, but quicker off the mark.

Did the defendant say anything to the bishop?

Yes.

He said, I will kill you.

The words were, "I will kill you."

Freddy, when I cross-examine, would you remind me this man is a Matatu?

Mr. Rumpole, please do not hesitate to rise if you have something to say.

I have nothing whatever to say, My Lord.

It is customary to remain silent when seated.

Did not your old pupil, master teach you that?

Was he not CH Wystan of the Inner Temple?

RUMPOLE (VOICEOVER): My sainted father-in-law.

Has this burden encyclopedic knowledge of British barristers?

Thank you, Mr. Nagoma.

Now, Mr. Nagoma.

This man is a Matatu.

Naturally, he is hostile to David.

If you interrupt my cross-examination, I'll kill you.

[laughter] JUDGE: Silence!

Silence!

Mr. Rumpole, there is no jury here.

No, My Lord, I'm sorry we abolished that great institution.

That was a jury trick.

It was not worthy of a former pupil of Mr. CH Wystan.

It was not a trick, My Lord.

It was a demonstration I am about to put the question to the witness.

Put it then, Mr. Rumpole, without playacting, please.

Were not the words addressed to the bishop used in the way I have just used them to my learned instructing solicitor as a piece of meaningless abuse?

Oh, I don't know that.

Oh, do you not?

Do you not also know what my client and the bishop were arguing about?

The freedom of religious instruction in schools enabling bill.

It was obvious that the bishop was putting up what is called a filibuster, arguing for hours in order to delay matters.

Well, I'm sure that is a process well known to my learned friend.

[laughter] Oh, very brilliant.

Sorry, Horace.

Was it not merely a moment of irritation at some unparliamentary behavior?

Mr. Rumpole, the witness was outside the parliamentary building.

How can he answer?

Well, he can answer this, My Lord.

Was it meant seriously?

I don't know, quite honestly.

No.

Thank you, Mr. Nagoma.

No further questions.

RUMPOLE (VOICEOVER): Oh.

I never thought the Golden Road to Samarkand would prove such bloody hard going.

Mr. Rumpole in there, is he?

I think he just slipped out for a moment to Central Africa.

You wanted to see him, Mr. Myers?

Fixed his little murder of his down the Bailey.

29th of the month, 10:30 start.

I'll get him back for you by then.

Leave it with me, Marzie.

Oh, Central Africa, what's Mr. Rumpole gone there for?

I rather gather his wife's got a visitor at home.

Oh, well, then.

That explains it.

Well, Dianne, we've got to get Mr. Rumpole back for the 29th.

We can't have him there forever, not sunning himself in the tropics.

What did he say?

Send him a cable?

If Rumpole's still away and you're in a bit of a hole, I think I'm free on the 29th.

Not free for murder, Mr. Hoskins, I don't think.

You're only free for landlord and contract.

Now, Dianne, the cable.

RUMPOLE: The Reverend Kenneth Cuazango.

You say that when you heard the shots, you jumped from the car and ran with your head down?

Yes.

So you did not see the attacker at that time?

No, I told you, sir, I had seen him through the windscreen.

Through the windscreen.

And when you reached home, which was a run of how far?

About 3 miles.

Not far.

Did you ring the police immediately?

Almost immediately, sir.

Well, what was the first thing you did when you got home?

I changed my clothes.

I was soaked to the skin.

Yes, exactly.

I have here a meteorological report.

There was heavy rain on the night of the 8th of March, between the hours of 9:00 and 11:00.

Didn't I say that?

No, I'm sorry, Reverend, you did not.

And when it rains in Naranga, it's no April shower, is it?

It's a cataract.

I call it Noah's flood.

Well, why not?

So the windscreen of the car must have been streaming with water, and you could not possibly have identified my client.

Could you identify him?

I'm sure I could.

"I'm sure I could."

You see, Mr. Rumpole?

Yes, My Lord, I see.

But I am quite sure the witness could not.

Isn't that the fact which I shall have to decide?

That judge, he wants to hang David.

You said you needed evidence.

Yes.

A witness.

Ah.

Your brother-in-law has already offered me some, thank you.

Jonathan.

Huh!

He wants to make an Apu martyr of David.

I want my David alive, though.

Are you sure I can't get you something to drink?

Nothing.

Thank you.

I have a witness for you, one who tells the truth.

RUMPOLE: The best sort.

Only one thing is wrong.

David would not allow this witness to come for him.

If he knew, he would forbid it.

RUMPOLE: But why ever?

This is a person of the Matatu people.

David would never agree to such a witness.

It's the evidence that matters, for heaven's sake, not the family background.

You may know very much law, Mr. Rumpole, but you do not understand our country.

Also, I am afraid David would not want this witness for my sake.

For your sake?

GRACE: This is something David tried to keep a secret from me.

Too late now for secrets.

I think so.

Don't look so down in the dumps, old fellow.

Apart from the fact that we are without the benefit of a jury, surely you must have noticed, David, that the judge is against us.

A member of the Matatu tribe and the prime minister's little chicken.

Why shouldn't he be against an Apu leader?

Everything is going as expected.

We've got to win this case.

Don't worry, old fellow.

You are doing exactly what is needed.

Oh, yeah?

What's that?

Upholding the best traditions of British justice for the foreign press.

When we lose, they will know this Dr. Death has no respect for the law.

So our revolution will be perfectly justified.

Your revolution?

Yes.

Our boys in the bush, Horace.

They will attack on the day I am convicted.

No sentence will ever be carried out on David Mazenze.

Now, then, does that take a bit of a weight off your mind?

Not really.

Do you mean I was brought out here to lose this case?

No.

You were brought out here to make your speech on the golden thread, Horace.

And then to lose.

It will be Dr. Death who loses in the end, and the judge.

Some of our boys in the Bush are likely to pass a motion of censure on the Old Chief Justice Banzana.

So I was brought out here to lose.

No wonder you didn't want an important QC to defend you.

Old Horace Rumpole is good enough to utter a few legal platitudes and then accept defeat gracefully.

Is that it?

Well, let me tell you something.

Tell me what, Horace?

No, it doesn't matter now.

You know what the golden thread is that runs through British justice?

Yes, Horace, I know.

Well, let me tell you another one.

Horace Rumpole considers every case to be winnable until it is lost, because he doesn't know any other way to fight them.

And you can tell that to your boys in the bush.

Horace!

Oh.

Thank you for coming to see me.

I really do appreciate all your efforts.

Yeah.

Ah, Mr. Taboro.

My learned friend.

Look-- I'm afraid his lordship is giving you a bit of a bully ragging.

Yes.

Under British law, I should serve you with an alibi notice.

Under our law, too.

Well, if I show you a statement, would you object to me calling a new witness?

I shall raise no objection at all to this witness being called at short notice.

See you in court, old fellow.

Mr. Rumpole.

Yes, My Lord.

Will you be calling evidence?

My Lord, I will call Mabel Mazenze.

No, I object!

I will not have this witness.

I object!

The defendant will be silent, or I have you take him below and the trial will continue in your absence.

Call your witness, Mr. Rumpole.

USHER: Call Mabel Mazenze.

A note from our client.

He is not very pleased with you.

Another golden rule of British justice.

No one speaks to Rumpole when he's on his feet.

MABEL: The whole truth and nothing but the truth.

You are Mabel Mazenze?

Yes.

And are you a lady of the Matatu people?

Is she a Matatu woman?

Is that what you mean?

I was trying to put it a little more elegantly, My Lord.

Don't mind the elegance.

You're a Matatu woman?

Yes, sir.

And are you married to David Mazenze, the defendant in this case?

JUDGE: The officer in charge has told us that your client's wife is called Grace Mazenze, Mr. Rumpole.

But did he also go through a ceremony of marriage with you according to the tribal customs of the Matatu people on the 8th of March, 1979?

Yes, he did.

David and I did.

We kept it secret.

Both our people would make us great mischief if they knew of it.

And David, having a wife of his own people also.

The 8th of March this year was an anniversary of that ceremony.

Where did David Mazenze spend that night?

With me.

RUMPOLE: And where was he between the hours of 9 and 11 o'clock on that rainy evening?

In my-- in our house here in Nova Lombaro.

He was with me from before 9 o'clock.

And when did he leave?

About quarter past 11:00.

He went to sleep in his bed at home with Grace, as he had a big speech to make the next day.

He thought with me, he would not do so much sleeping.

[laughter] JUDGE: Silence Has it been difficult for you to come forward and give evidence in this case?

I think my family will never see me again when they know what I've done with an Apu man.

Then why have you come to give evidence?

Only because I know David cannot have killed the old man.

Only because of that.

And to save his life.

RUMPOLE: Yes.

Thank you, Mrs. Mazenze.

Mr. Taboro, you wish to cross-examine this witness?

No, My Lord.

Oh, perhaps my learned friend would help me.

Does that mean that the prosecution accepts this witness's evidence?

It simply means, My Lord, that we have no questions we wish to put.

Really, My Lord, I must insist.

No good insisting, Mr. Rumpole.

In the end, it will be a matter entirely for me.

If your lordship pleases.

A cable for Mr. Rumpole.

Cable?

If I might say, it is not a matter entirely for your lordship, but a matter for our common law.

When London is nothing more than a memory, and the Old Bailey has sunk back into the primeval mud, my country will be remembered for three things-- the British breakfast, the Oxford book of English verse, and the presumption of innocence.

That is the golden thread which runs through the whole history of our criminal law, so that if a man is murdered on the Old Kent Road or on the road to Nova Lombaro, no man shall be convicted if there is reasonable doubt as to his guilt.

And at the end of the day, how can any court be certain sure that that fearless young woman, Mabel Mazenze, has not come here to tell us the plain and simple truth?

Naranga ranks high on the list of civilized countries.

We observe the rule of law.

This is demonstrated by the fact that we've allowed a barrister from England, a junior barrister-- in England, they have quite elderly junior barristers, barristers as long in the tooth, he will not mind my saying this, as Mr. Horace Rumpole, to plead here as a guest at our Bar.

Mr. Rumpole has told us nothing that we didn't already know.

We know that a man is innocent until proved guilty.

This is the golden thread that runs through the law in Naranga.

This law is also followed in Britain, I believe.

The court has the evidence of identification given by the Reverend Kenneth Cuazango.

On the other hand, we have the positive evidence of Mabel Mazenze, the Matatu woman, whom the defendant, a well-known member of the Apu tribe has married as a second wife, a backward form of indulgence.

It is not in the best tradition of the new Naranga of Prime Minister Christopher Mabile.

In these circumstances, the court is unable to feel that the prosecution has proved its case beyond reasonable Acting entirely on the principles of ancient common law, we pronounce on David Mazenze, whatever we may think of his morality, a verdict of not guilty.

Let the defendant be discharged.

USHER: Be upstanding in court.

RUMPOLE (VOICEOVER): Oh, bully for you, my old darling.

An upright judge, old Worthington Banzana, a Daniel come to justice.

We did it, Freddy!

We notched up a triumph.

I'm sure you'll agree.

Well, we brought the Golden thread to Samarkand.

Good win, my learned friend.

Heartfelt congratulations.

Well, I'd better go and see my client.

Ha.

I should warn you, you may not find him particularly grateful.

I probably saved his life.

You also broadcast the fact that the leader of the Apu People's Party had got himself hitched to a Matatu woman.

Not too good that, politically speaking.

But then I don't suppose you're tremendously interested in local politics.

Oh, well, before you go, could I have my collar stand back, please?

[non-english speech] I'm sorry.

I don't speak your language.

We are arresting you in the name of the people of Naranga!

Come!

RUMPOLE (VOICEOVER): I always knew it.

I knew I'd end up in the nick.

It was my nightmare, a recurring dream from the days when I was a nipper.

I could hardly close my eyes without hearing a voice somewhere.

And the least sentence I can possibly pass on you is about 100 years in the chokey.

Oh, Lord.

Extraordinary thing.

Perhaps that's what made me take up the law.

Mr. Rumpole, will you please explain this cablegram which we have intercepted, addressed to you, I think, at the Hotel Majestic?

Please, you take your time.

We have the whole night before us.

Oh, really?

"Murder fixed for 29th of this month at 10:30 AM.

Henry."

29th.

That will be in 10 days' time.

Well, in 10 days' time, I shall be in London.

There's no need for you to worry.

And leaving the dirty side of the business, I suppose, to this Henry.

What murder, Mr. Rumpole?

And who is your associate Henry?

[knock on door] Ah, there you are, Rumbold.

You know what, my dear fellow?

You need a good lawyer.

SIR ARTHUR: Splendid result.

Just what our brilliant prime minister always had in mind.

You mean you wanted me to win?

To please the International Monetary Fund and reassure Barclays Bank, and put Christopher Mabile in line for a K, Commonwealth Prime Ministers Conference.

You've probably earned him a ballet knighthood, apart from the fact that you've seen off David Mazenze.

Seen him off?

The Apu would never have let him hang.

Risen up in their thousands, there are plenty of guns available in the bush.

Didn't he tell you?

But there are lazy people.

Nothing in today's verdict to get them going.

And they won't lift a finger for a leader who married a Matatu woman.

Sir Arthur?

Mm?

I'd like to know something.

What is it you'd like to know, my dear fellow?

Who killed the bishop?

Well, the old bishop, a politician who'd outstayed his welcome.

Of course, we'd know exactly what to do with him in England.

Oh?

It's too bad there's no House of Lords in Naranga.

Well.

Ah, Mr. Rumpole.

Prime Minister.

Congratulations, Mr. Rumpole.

I hear you put up a first rate show.

You know my Lord Chief Justice, of course.

Your old sparring partner.

Oh, yes.

I have had that satisfaction.

When are you leaving us?

Tomorrow.

Pity.

You should have stayed longer.

Gone up country.

We could have shown you some of our old tribal customs.

Thank you, Prime Minister.

I think I've seen some.

[car screeches] [shots firing] "The body of Mr David McKenzie, believed to have been killed by a faction of his own Apu People's Party, which is now led by his younger brother, Mr. Jonathan Mazenze.

There has been no arrest to date, according to the Office of the Attorney General Mr. Rupert Taboro."

There you are.

Country that still believes in the death penalty.

Mazenze.

Apu.

Rupert Taboro.

Extraordinary names.

Oh, yes.

Almost as hard as Rumpole or Dodo Mackintosh.

Wasn't it good of Dodo to stay on another week so that you could see something of her, Rumpole?

Yes.

Oh, well, must be off.

You will be home early, won't you, dear?

Dodo does like her game of three-handed whist, you know.

Oh, yes, I know.

Old chatterbox.

HILDA: Where are you off to today, dear?

Not Samarkand, is it?

No, Hilda, I'm off to Chambers.

Samarkand is definitely off.

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