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Children!

[tires screech] [horn honks] [suspenseful music] [clattering] DETECTIVE: Hugo Spencer Lutterworth?

I'm here to charge you with the attempted murder of Arnold Gleason.

I have to warn you that anything you say may be taken down and used in evidence.

[chatter, laughter] And, of course, our dear friend Marigold Featherstone and Guthrie-- that's her husband-- one of your brother judges, of course-- Ah, yes.

--and such an old and dear friend of Rumpole's.

Anyway, he's away in Chester at the moment doing a longish race.

And poor Marigold had to go to some frightfully smart rave up, as she put it.

Well, you know Marigold is so amusing always.

Anyway, she most kindly gave us their tickets for the Scales of Justice dinner, and I persuaded Rumpole to take me out on a spree.

Oh, Mrs. Rumpole, you know you must have great powers of advocacy.

Oh, I don't think it was anything to do with me.

He said it was a chance to get a free hack of the claret in the Savoy.

Anyway, I made him dig out his old dinner jacket from the mothballs, and I-- I do think he looks most distinguished, don't you, for Rumpole?

For Rumpole, I would say quite amazing.

[snorts] Oh, good gracious, is that the time?

Ah, the learned judge is looking at the time.

I well remember when old Judge Quentin Starkey of London sessions looked at the time during a case of indecent assault-- the sort of things always went on in the cinemas around Bethnal Green.

And this girl was giving evidence.

Of course, she was highly embarrassed by the whole thing.

But nevertheless, she wanted to see her assailant get his comeuppance.

So she said to the judge-- Rumpole.

HORACE RUMPOLE: --this bloke put his hand up my skirt, My Lord.

And this bloke sitting next to me in the one and nines-- (MIMICS JUDGE) Put his hand up your skirt, did he?

And old Quentin looked at the clock.

He saw it was dead on lunch time.

(MIMICS JUDGE) Put his hand up your skirt, did he?

I suggest we leave it there till 10 past 2:00.

[laughs] Of course, they don't have them nowadays, do they?

Indecent assaults in flick houses?

Of course they do.

Only the other day at Uxbridge.

No, Horace, I meant one and nine pennies.

Oh, well, perhaps you're right.

Well, no matter.

Just think of it as a story from my distant past-- a damn good one, though, eh, whenever it happened.

[laughs] Yes.

Well, Gwyneth, are you ready?

We shall have to break up the party.

[chatter] Good night, darling.

Good night.

Delightful to meet you, Mrs. Rumpole.

Quite delightful.

(WHISPERS) I hope we meet again.

[chatter] HILDA RUMPOLE: Telling that disgusting story about the girl in the Odeon-- HORACE RUMPOLE: It was The Regal, Hilda-- The Regal Cinema in Bethnal Green.

HILDA RUMPOLE: For the hundredth time, you must be getting senile.

Old jokes are always welcome like old poetry, old wine, old books-- The judge just didn't know where to look.

Ah, yes, Mr. Justice Hugh Gwent-Evans-- a genuine Welsh bore with about as many laughs in him as a post-mortem.

HILDA RUMPOLE: He was a perfect gentleman, which is more than can be said of you, Rumpole-- telling a blue joke with the judge's wife sitting right beside you.

Hilda, it was the Savoy Hotel, not a chapel in the valley.

Wherever it was, a fine fool you made of yourself tonight, Rumpole.

Rumpole!

What on Earth are you doing, Rumpole?

Saying goodbye!

Still Gloucester Road, Madam?

Yes, driver, straight on to Gloucester Road.

[toilet flushing] DENIS DRISCOLL: What do you think of the prosecution, Mr. Rumpole?

HORACE RUMPOLE (VOICEOVER): I think if it were conducted by a nervous first year law student with a serious speech impediment, they'd still get a conviction.

Well, we do face certain difficulties.

You were in partnership with Captain Gleason in this garden center business?

I drew the partnership agreement.

I've got it here.

Yes, well, don't bother about that now, Mr. Driscoll.

And it's clear that you were having a bit of a walk out with Gleason's wife.

I don't want Amanda's name mentioned.

Oh, you may not want it mentioned, old darling, but the prosecution will mention it about every 10 minutes.

Listen, it is clear that someone drained the brake fluid from Gleason's estate car.

There's no dispute about that?

No dispute at all.

Well, what we want to know is, was that someone you?

Is Amanda all right?

Nobody's tampered with her brakes.

She's not been questioned?

Not arrested?

There is no statement from Mrs. Gleason among the prosecution documents.

They're not going to arrest her?

Not so far as we know.

Can't we find out?

Well, I suppose that Mr. Driscoll could have a chat with the prosecution solicitor just by way of an idle chat over the telephone.

Find out if there's any intention of proceeding against Mrs. Gleason for any offense.

I can't decide anything until I know about Amanda.

What offense do you think she might be charged with?

I'd rather not say until I know she's all right.

You do understand?

No, Mr. Lutterworth, I'm afraid I don't understand.

This isn't gardeners question time.

We're not here for a cozy chat about the herbaceous borders.

We're here to discuss matters of life and death.

Gardening really is a matter of life and death.

Plants either do well or you pull them out and destroy them quite ruthlessly.

HORACE RUMPOLE (VOICEOVER): Give an answer like that in court, old darling, and you'll go down for about seven years.

Well, we'll let the solicitor have his chat, then we'll come back to see you.

Perhaps you'll tell me your story, then.

Well, the scene of the crime.

It's not a particularly steep slope.

It's so out of Hugo Lutterworth's character.

Know him well, do you?

Oh, for years.

His father, too.

Great naturalists-- mad for rural preservation, all that sort of thing.

Hugo was almost painfully honest, though.

That's why he needed a bit of protection in the partnership agreement.

Quite a lot of traffic at the bottom there.

Look.

Mm.

I suppose now this has happened, Gleason will want to sell the place.

Quite a sharp turn as you come out of the gates.

One of these bloody great supermarkets has been after the place for years.

Of course, Hugo refused to sell.

Ah?

Preservation of the environment and all that.

Ah.

Oh, well, domestic harmony seems to have been restored.

Can I help you, sir?

Oh, I rather doubt it.

Oh.

Oh, I suppose I'd better buy a geranium.

I'm back, Henry.

Back home, Mr. Rumpole?

Well, yes, more or less, in a manner of speaking.

Any messages are there?

None at all, Mr. Rumpole.

Nobody rang.

Nobody loves you, Mr. Rumpole.

Mrs. Rumpole ring, did she?

No, sir.

Mrs. Rumpole didn't ring.

Oh-- a Mr. Ballard was asking for you, though, sir.

Yeah, he particularly wants you at the chambers meeting-- something of immediate concern to you, he says.

Oh, here.

You might as well have this.

The clue is 17-across.

It's nine letters.

[chatter] [gavel tapping] Standards in chambers must be maintained.

We must give the impression of a tight and happy ship to the solicitors who visit us.

Aye, aye, Captain.

I was hearing of a set in Lincoln's Inn where they had trouble with the tenant cooking in his room.

Old Morris Mackay had a pupil from the Gold Coast, I recollect.

One day, he gave a birthday party and he roasted half a sheep in the middle of poor old Morris's Turkey carpet.

These articles were found in a downstairs lavatory when the clerks arrived this morning.

Does anyone lay claim to them?

Well, they're not mine.

Of course, they didn't have takeaway dinners in those days.

They appear to be articles of antique shaving tackle.

He ended up as prime minister somewhere.

Who did?

Old Morris Mackay's pupil-- the chap who cooked the sheep.

Rumpole, do you know anything about these objects?

I never plead guilty, My Lord.

Sorry I can't stay and join in the fun.

I have to get down to a little place in the country.

Your country cottage, Horace?

No, Uncle Tom, Worsefield jail.

I propose to designate our chambers as smokeless zone.

In particular, there shall be no more cheroots.

Cheroots?

Panatellas, whiffs, mannikins, whatever you want to call them.

They are banned in law courts and places of worship.

They are outlawed in most parts of the railway, and in an increasing number of factories.

Our chambers must stand shoulder to shoulder with the Clean Air Brigade.

Well, I doubt whether you'll get Horace Rumpole to agree with you.

We may not have to worry what Horace Rumpole agrees with for very much longer.

Look at that.

What about it?

What about it?

Circumstantial evidence, I agree, but it all adds up to an almost unanswerable case.

I'm glad Horace Rumpole's practice is thriving.

Oh, is it?

I hadn't heard.

A fellow must be in funds to enjoy the luxury of having himself shaved.

Either that or he is, for one reason or another, without a razor.

What are you going to do about it?

I'll tell you exactly what I'm going to do about it.

Tonight, I'm going to work very late in chambers.

Good heavens.

JUSTICE GWENT-EVANS: Rumpole's in your chambers, isn't he?

Yes, Judge, in my chambers at the moment.

It's a bad business, a most shocking business.

You start with one and it leads to the other.

What exactly?

Adultery.

Rumpole?

Leading to attempted murder.

Never.

That's the sort of case he does, apparently.

He's coming down before me at Worsefield next week.

Ah, a case.

His wife seems a perfectly charming woman.

Whose wife?

Rumpole's.

Oh, you thought that, did you?

A good deal to put up with, I have no doubt.

He told a most distasteful story at the Scales of Justice dinner.

[stammers] Excuse me, Judge-- some papers I simply have to look at.

Rumpole!

Come out.

I know perfectly well you're in there Rumpole.

Damn!

[gasps] You're an early bird, Mr. Ballard.

Trying to catch the worm, Mrs. Slammery.

Have you, by any chance, seen anything of Mr. Rumpole?

Mother of God, no.

He'll not be here yet a while.

Morning, Ballard.

And the top of the morning to you, Mrs. Slammery.

Rumpole.

What exactly are you up to?

I'm coming to work, Ballard.

I've been doing it for the last 40 years.

You find unusual?

I see you make yourself quite at home here, Rumpole.

Mm-hmm.

A fellow could easily sleep on that old Chesterfield.

Of course.

Care for 40 winks?

Filthy ashtray.

Mrs. Slammery hasn't flicked her magic duster yet.

I think I'd better warn you.

I'm proposing that chambers becomes a smoke-free zone in accordance with present day medical advice.

What?

It's not enough to abstain oneself.

It's the other fellow's poison getting up one's nostrils.

You intend to ban smoking in chambers?

That is my intention.

You can't do that.

I imagine the proposal will command pretty general support.

It's entirely unconstitutional.

What?

It's against our ancient rights of freedom-- those great principles of justice our fathers fought and bled for.

It's clean contrary to Magna Carta.

I bow to your superior knowledge of history, Rumpole.

Could you just remind me which clause in Magna Carta deals with smoking?

No free man shall be taken or imprisoned or distrained on or exiled or denied the comfort of an occasional cheroot, unless by the lawful judgment of his peers.

I know you're remarkably ignorant of the common law of England, Ballard.

However encyclopedic your knowledge of the rent laws and the Factories Act-- - Ah, talking of which-- - Talking what?

- The Factory Act.

- Do we have to?

Yes, I think we do.

These chambers, Rumpole-- Yes, to which you are a comparative newcomer.

--are designated as a place of work.

This is not a doss house.

As your head, I am not in the business of running an hotel or some sort of Salvation Army hostel.

What are you suggesting?

I am simply suggesting that you've been living in here, Rumpole, sleeping rough.

Oh.

Last night, I saw a pajama leg.

[chuckles] I'm not surprised.

Retiring for the night?

When I called in here late, after dining in hall with Mr. Justice Gwent-Evans, I distinctly saw a leg in pajamas beating a hasty retreat towards your room, Rumpole.

[coughs] Lay off it, Ballard.

This is a matter I intend to pursue for the benefit of other tenants.

Please, lay off the booze.

Keep off the sauce.

Cut down on the quaffing.

I know what you benchers get up to at high table in hall.

No wonder you're beginning to see things.

Things?

Pajama legs now.

It'll be elephants tomorrow, little pink mice climbing up the curtains.

Look, why don't you lie down for a bit?

Sleep it off before you go blundering across the road and make a complete pig's breakfast of a planning appeal.

I am absolutely firm on my principles.

[coughs] This is not the end of the inquiry.

Remember Topping?

Topping?

He tried to save money by moving into his chambers in Lincoln's Inn.

He was found heating tins of Spaghetti Bolognese on the electric fire.

Hilary Topping was given three months notice to quit.

Cut down on the port, Ballard!

May you find the strength to kick the habit.

I shall pray for you.

[door slams] You shouldn't have come here.

Don't come again.

I wanted to-- I wanted to.

You've got nothing to worry about.

We must be free or die, who speak the tongue that Shakespeare spake.

The faith and morals hold which Milton held.

In everything we are sprung of Earth's first blood.

How titles manifold.

[door slams] [footsteps approach] [knock on door] Who is it?

Ballard knows all about it.

Ballard knows all about what?

You, Rumpole, eating these takeaway curries in chambers.

How on Earth?

Really, Rumpole, after nearly half a century of mixing with criminals, you might picked up a few tips.

At least don't leave the evidence scattered around in your wastepaper basket.

I don't see that that proves a thing.

What's wrong with a fellow, after an exhausting day on a long case, having a mouthful of chicken vindaloo on his way home?

But you're not, are you?

Not what?

You're not on your way home.

Well, perhaps not exactly.

What do you mean, not exactly?

You're either on your way home or you're not.

Oh, you mean, you make a vague shot at Frocksbury Court and sometimes miss?

Not exactly.

Oh, Rumpole, do try and answer the question.

I put it to you.

You are living in chambers.

I'm not exactly living.

The Oxford Book of English Verse, you've often told me, is your regular bedside reading.

Now, why don't you answer?

Are you afraid you might be incriminated?

Oh, I fancy a bit of Wordsworth before dropping off.

There's nothing the matter with that, is there, Portia?

No, no, nothing at all, Rumpole.

So The Oxford Book of English Verse is to be found on your bedside table in the Gloucester Road?

Well, of course.

Then what, may I ask, is it doing here, rubbing shoulders with Bloodstains I Have Known by Professor Ackerman and an out of date Archbold on crime?

Perhaps I bought another copy.

Horace Rumpole, Littlewick School, 1923.

"Cursed be he who steals this book."

I brought it in to prepare a case.

Which case?

Which what?

Case, sir.

Am I not speaking clearly?

An attempted murder.

I have a client who is a successful gardener-- a very unsuccessful murderer.

I have to address the jury.

No, you haven't.

That case doesn't start till next week.

Well, how do you know?

Because I'm prosecuting.

Good god.

Yes, exactly.

The game is up, Rumpole.

Who taught you to cross-examine?

You did.

Ah, the best teacher.

All right, guv, you got me bang to rights.

Rumpole, you know perfectly well criminals don't say that anymore.

Look, what's wrong with a fellow having a few anecdotes?

For god's sake, where would I be without my anecdotes?

Yes.

Hilda take exception to one of them, did she?

An excellent story at the Scales of Justice dinner.

You remember.

You were there.

Went down rather well, I thought.

- Did you?

- Mm.

What did Hilda have to say about it?

I prefer not to remember.

The word "senile" featured in her address to the jury.

I opened the cab door and found freedom.

Well, you will have to go back some time.

It is not to be thought of that the flood of Rumpole's freedom, which to the open sea of the world's praise from vast antiquity hath flowed with pomp of waters, and with storms should perish.

Look, what about an hotel?

I did think of The Savoy, but I couldn't quite manage it on legal aid.

Anyway, I wanted to save a bit of money.

I shall, of course, continue to support Hilda in the manner to which she has become accustomed.

Can't you do any better than that?

Anyway, you can't stay here.

After the Topping case, Ballard will have you out of here like a shot.

Topping cooked Spaghetti Bolognese.

And you import curry.

I'd have said the offense is a great deal worse.

Look, Rumpole, they're on to you.

You stay here one more night and you lose your tenancy.

Now, what are we going to do about you?

Mm?

I-- [sighs] Oh, well.

I suppose there's nothing else for it, is there?

No.

Just until you find somewhere else, you understand?

[sizzling, giggling] Mr. Rumpole, aren't you going to eat your muesli?

Looks like something they put in the bottom of bird cages.

It's awfully good for you.

Makes you go regularly.

Shh, shh.

Pomeroy's Claret does that for me very nicely, thank you.

Can I help you with that, Rumpole?

No, no, no, no, certainly not.

I said I didn't want to be the slightest trouble.

Besides, you've got an important prosecution.

But-- It's all right.

I haven't been peeping.

There.

Mm.

[coughing] I can't understand why on Earth people have to smoke.

I can't understand why on Earth people have to suck Gobstoppers.

I never suck Gobstoppers.

They're bad for your teeth.

For one so young, you seem remarkably careful of your health.

Let me tell you something, Tristan-- and you too, Isolde, if you care to listen-- no pleasure on Earth is worth sacrificing for the sake of five extra years in the geriatric ward of the Sunset Old People's Hospital in Weston Supermare.

My teacher says they're going to make all smoking illegal.

They're going to send you to prison for it.

What?

What have you given birth to, Portia, a couple of prosecuting counsel?

My teacher says you shouldn't be allowed to smoke, even if you are all by yourself, sitting in a field in the open air.

Why ever not?

You might set yourself alight with the matches.

Then they'd have to cure your burns on the National Health.

All right, children.

Time for school.

Oh, darling, have you got their lunches?

Yes, Yes.

We're equipped with sandwiches.

- Come on.

Come on.

Blazer.

Thank you.

Bye.

Bye.

Bye-bye, Darling.

Bye.

- Bye, Darling.

- Daddy.

Hmm?

How long is that man going to live here?

Shh.

Daddy.

WOMAN (ON RADIO): We've seen what you and Pat are up to.

MAN (ON RADIO): Oh, absolutely.

WOMAN (ON RADIO): We're both frightfully interested in organic farming, aren't we, Darling?

[music playing] [doorbell rings] ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Oh.

Hilda, hello, dear.

Hello.

Have you got a few minutes?

Yes, of course.

Sorry to drop in on you like this.

Oh, not at all.

Come in.

I hope it's not an awkward moment.

Oh, no.

No, not at all, as it happens.

Ah.

It all looks extremely nice.

Well, it's been a wonderful chance to clean up.

Tea?

There is a pot.

- Yes, I'd love some.

- Oh, good.

Sit down, do.

I'll fetch you a cup.

It must have been a ghastly shock for you.

I understand he left you in a taxi halfway down the mall.

HILDA RUMPOLE: Oh, is that where Rumpole left me?

I find it so hard to remember.

Well, I'm sure you're being terribly brave.

It must be difficult.

Difficult?

Getting the flat cleaned up, not finding the stub ends of cigars in all my saucers?

[laughter] Being able to listen to The Archers-- which Rumpole always finds exceedingly irritating-- and stretching out in bed with a hot drink and The Daily Telegraph crossword puzzle.

We've been so concerned, Claude and I.

We really don't want to see old friends splitting up.

Oh, I'm not splitting up.

Don't worry about me.

As a matter of fact, I'm perfectly intact.

Yes.

Well, I know that Horace regrets that moment of insanity.

Marriage means such a lot to him.

Does it?

You've been seeing something of Rumpole recently?

Yes.

As a matter of fact, Hilda, he's staying with us.

Oh.

Then you're the one that's being brave.

You must know every single one of his stories by heart.

I know that he's just waiting to get back to you.

All it needs, Hilda, is the smallest sign of how desperately you need him.

Just waiting, is he?

Oh, yes.

Well, you can tell Rumpole from me that I'm in no hurry.

Absolutely no hurry at all.

He can stay away as long as he likes, as far as I'm concerned.

Oh.

Until he got settled, that's what I said.

I must say, I never bargained for the cooked breakfasts.

Mm.

Darling, you've just got to face up to Rumpole.

She doesn't want him back.

He may be with us forever.

You invited him to stay, Phylli.

You ought to tell him to go.

A chap's got to face up to the consequences of a rash invitation.

Claude, I am not a chap.

It's the old, old story, members of the jury-- a young and attractive wife, married to an elderly husband who had perhaps lost some of his charm for her over the years.

So she allowed herself to drift into a love affair with her husband's partner-- the no doubt physically more attractive young man, Hugo Lutterworth, the defendant in this case.

After we have called our evidence, and in spite of the ingenious arguments you may hear from my learned friend, Mr. Horace Rumpole, you will be in no doubt that the defendant, Lutterworth, deliberately and with full intent, tried to murder Captain Gleason by severing his brakes and causing his estate car to crash into that very dangerous junction.

Members of the jury, it's difficult for us who no doubt have stable homes and contented marriages, to understand the lengths to which some unhappy people will go in inflicting pain and suffering on others.

Did you see the defendant Lutterworth?

Don't lead, Portia.

Did you see anyone you knew?

I saw Mr. Lutterworth.

He had the bonnet of the estate car open and was doing something.

I couldn't see what.

Did that arouse your suspicions?

My Lord, we are not trying my client on this witness's suspicions.

I will allow the question, Mr. Rumpole.

Were you suspicious?

Not really.

Mr. Lutterworth often did things to the cars.

He said he understood them.

Yes.

Coming to the next day-- Ah, the next day being the day when Mr. Gleason's car crashed.

HORACE RUMPOLE (VOICEOVER): All right.

No need to rub it in.

Were you passing the greenhouse when you saw-- Don't tell her.

Just ask her what she saw.

My learned friend wants you to tell us what you saw.

I saw Mr. Lutterworth.

Yes?

And what was he doing?

He was kissing Mrs. Gleason, My Lord.

You mean to say that the defendant was kissing his partner's wife in full view of the workforce at the garden center?

WITNESS: In my full view, My Lord.

JUDGE: And did you find that shocking?

I did, My Lord.

Thank you very much.

This judge is suffering from a bad case of premature adjudication.

I'm sorry.

What did you say, Mr. Rumpole?

I said there'd be a full explanation, My Lord.

I'm sure the jury will be most interested to hear it when the time comes.

Have you any questions for this witness?

People who live in glass houses shouldn't kiss each other.

Was that a question, Mr. Rumpole?

HORACE RUMPOLE: More in the nature of an observation, My Lord.

You say that Mr. Lutterworth looked after the vehicles in the garden center.

Did you ever hear Captain Gleason ask Mr. Lutterworth to look at his vehicle for him?

I can't remember.

He may have done.

HORACE RUMPOLE: Well, may have done on this occasion?

I suppose it's possible.

Is that all, Mr. Rumpole?

For the moment, My Lord, yes.

Very well.

Members of the jury, we will leave it there until-- 10 minutes past 2:00, My Lord.

Court rise.

Hilda, what on earth?

The judge invited me down to lunch.

Mr. Justice Gwent-Evans has been very kind to me, Rumpole.

At least you could have let me know.

It came as something of a shock to see you up there in the seat of judgment.

But how could I let you know, Rumpole?

I keep looking around the flat, and you are nowhere to be found.

The judge is just coming, Mrs. Rumpole.

Oh, thank you, Posnet.

Tell him I'll be waiting here.

That's Posnet, the judge's clerk.

Quite a sweetie.

Hilda-- Oh, by the way, that case of yours-- have you noticed the way that Mrs. Gleason keeps looking at your client?

Quite an exhibition, isn't it?

She never takes her eyes off him.

Hilda-- Ah, there's the judge.

We're lunching at his lodgings.

Oh, do thank Phyllida so much for looking after you from me.

Such a relief to know you're settled.

Long may it continue.

Thank you.

You seem to be trying to find something to ask, Mr. Rumpole.

Bricks without straw, Driscoll, old darling-- bricks entirely without straw.

Yes.

She never took her eyes off him.

Of course.

She wasn rubbing it in rather, wasn't she?

What's happened, Mr. Rumpole?

Well, a bit of a miracle, old cock, a bit of a turn up for the books.

She Who Must Be Obeyed has come up with a sort of legal inspiration.

By the way, that partnership agreement-- the way that Gleason and Lutterworth carved up the garden center between them-- I have it in the office.

You didn't seem particularly interested.

I know.

Well, perhaps that was wrong of me.

Yes.

That may have been very wrong of me.

Detective Sergeant Wilmer, I understand that the braking systems on Captain Gleason's car were so deliberately damaged as to render the brakes completely inoperable.

That's obvious, Mr. Rumpole.

I am grateful to Your Lordship.

My point exactly.

In fact, this was a crime which was bound to be detected.

By anyone inspecting the braking system, yes.

Yes.

One other matter, Sergeant Wilmer, was the braking system examined for fingerprints?

None of your client's fingerprints are found, Mr. Rumpole.

Perhaps the area had been wiped clean.

Oh, not entirely.

We found some fingerprints, My Lord.

Oh.

Did you identify them?

No.

Oh?

Well, since they weren't Mr. Lutterworth's prints, we didn't investigate the matter further.

Did you not?

Well, would you take steps to discover if they were the prints of anyone else who might give evidence in this case?

Lawyers as Christians-- the suffragan Bishop of Sidcup will give an address on the Christian approach to the Rent Act.

Good god.

Everyone interested, cordially invited.

Sherry and sandwiches will be served after the discussion.

Samuel Ballard, QC President.

Sherry and sandwiches.

[knock on door] Come in.

Ah, Rumpole.

Oh, Erskine-Brown.

I-- I'll be seeing you later at home.

Yes, well, this is it.

I wanted to have a word with you.

Phylli's idea, really.

Oh, well, a brief word, old darling.

I am studying the law of partnership in depth.

Of course.

Yes.

Horace, it's been tremendous fun having you to stay with us for a short while, just till you get fixed up.

Ah, you enjoyed some of the old stories, eh?

Better than watching the telly.

Hmm?

[laughs] Oh, I've got lots of them for the long winter evenings.

Oh, good.

We'd love that.

Phylli and I would love that.

Well, that solved your problem.

Our problem, yes, but not Hilda's.

Hilda's?

Phylli went to see her.

She's most terribly upset.

Your wife's upset?

She seemed very bobbish in court.

No, no.

Hilda's, well, terribly down and lonely.

She wants you back desperately, Horace.

We were both, well, rather upset about it.

Claude, I have good news for you.

You're going back to her?

No.

Hilda is as bright as a button.

She's as happy as the day is long.

She's chummed up with a rather nauseating brand of Welsh judge, and she's having an exotic social life around Worsefield Court.

She wanted you to know she's very grateful to you and Phylli for putting me up, and long may the arrangement continue.

There, that makes you happy, doesn't it?

- Uh-- - Doesn't it?

Well, it-- In fact, it's rather dashed your hopes, hasn't it?

Oh, I-- You wanted to get rid of me out of the matrimonial home.

Say no more.

I can take a hint.

I can tell when your children simulate terminal bronchitis every time I walk into a room that it was time for me to be moving on.

The only thing is, old darling, you've got to help me find another billet.

Well, how am I expected to do that?

I'll tell you.

All you have to do is to attend this shindig.

We have heard evidence that your wife visited Lutterworth in prison.

Yes, I heard that.

PHYLLIDA ERSKINE-BROWN: In spite of that, what is your present attitude towards your marriage?

I am still prepared to give it another chance.

In spite of an attempt that may have been made on your life?

In spite of that.

Yes.

Thank you very much, Captain Gleason.

Thank you, Captain Gleason.

Yes?

My Lord, I wonder if I might sit down.

Of course, Captain Gleason.

A glass of water?

Usher, a glass of water for Captain Gleason.

Are you sure you feel quite well, Captain Gleason?

It's just that I have had a little heart trouble, My Lord.

Well, you sit there and take it quite easily.

You won't be long, will you, Mr. Rumpole?

No, My Lord, not very long.

And I shall try to adopt my very best bedside manner.

Captain Gleason, Hugo Lutterworth looked after the vehicles in the garden center from time to time.

He did, yes.

If they wanted maintenance or a service or something of that nature used he to do it?

He said he didn't trust garages.

On the day before the accident, had you told Mr. Lutterworth that your estate car wasn't running very smoothly and ask him to have a look at it?

I can't remember.

Oh, can you not?

Didn't Mr. Lutterworth tell you he'd adjusted the points of the spark plugs or something of that nature?

He may have done.

Then you may have asked him to look at your car.

It's possible.

I haven't very much talent with mechanical objects.

So you-- you never looked at your own car yourself?

Never.

Never even lifted the bonnet?

Never.

I had it filled up at the garage.

And Hugo Lutterworth did the rest.

Did rather too much on that particular occasion.

[chuckling] Well, you say that, Captain Gleason.

But looking back on it, wouldn't you say that my client had done you a simply enormous favor?

I have no idea what you mean.

JUDGE: Neither have I, Mr. Rumpole.

You know exactly what I mean, Captain Gleason.

Had you not received a very impressive offer for the garden center site from an immense chain of supermarkets?

Might not your greenhouses have become the promenades for the purchase of everything from butterscotch to bedsteads?

My Lord, I really can't see that my business affairs can possibly be relevant.

Neither can I for the moment.

Mrs. Erskine-Brown, do you object to the question?

No.

No, My Lord, not at this stage.

Thank you, Portia.

I'll be moving out soon.

Well, Captain Gleason?

We have had an offer for the site.

Yes.

- Yes.

And Mr. Lutterworth was determined not to sell.

That's what he said.

Yes, because he believes in flowers, and badgers, and butterflies, and woodland folk and all that sort of thing.

But you did want to sell and make a thumping great profit.

Hmm?

I was in favor of the Arcadia store's offer.

Yes.

Yes.

Captain Gleason, I would like the court to see the partnership agreement between yourself and my client, Mr. Lutterworth.

Rumpole, how can this possibly be relevant to this charge?

Oh, but it goes right to the heart of the matter, My Lord.

It is the simple solution to what I am sure Your Lordship and the members of the jury have found a very puzzling case.

Well, I can't speak for the jury, of course, but I haven't found it in the least puzzling.

Not puzzling?

An alleged criminal that does everything in the presence of witnesses?

An attempted murder where the victim suffers nothing but a few superficial cuts and bruises?

I would have thought that was grounds for considerable puzzlement, even to Your Lordship.

Why do you think that I-- why do you say that I ought to look at this document?

Well, I believe my learned friend has no objection.

I should be moving out about Thursday.

My Lord, we wouldn't wish to shut out any document which might possibly have some relevance.

JUDGE: But-- Now, look at it, will you please, Captain Gleason?

The members of the jury have their copies.

Just look at paragraph 12.

Would you read it aloud, please?

"If either of the said partners shall perform an act which is prejudicial to the interests of the partnership or shall be convicted of a criminal offense, all his rights--" "Or shall be convicted of a criminal offense."

You see how it goes on.

All his rights in the partnership, property, and income, and all and other benefits due to him from the said partnership, shall revert immediately to the other partner.

Congratulations.

Excuse me?

Well, you have done rather well, haven't you, Captain Gleason, out of this little case?

I take the greatest exception to that.

Oh, do you indeed?

All you had to do was to drain the brake fluid from your car and crash it into the birdbaths, sustain a few superficial cuts and bruises, and you become the sole proprietor of the Woodland Folk Garden Center, which you can then flog to the supermarket and make yourself a fortune.

Mr. Rumpole, that isn't all he had to do.

HORACE RUMPOLE: Oh, I am immensely grateful to Your Lordship.

Your Lordship has my point exactly.

Ah, quick as a flash.

I knew Your Lordship would be there before us all.

There was one other thing you had to do, wasn't there?

You had to get Hugo Lutterworth convicted of a crime, and you would be laughing all the way to your newly purchased villa on the Costa Brava.

I haven't got a villa on the Costa Brava.

No, I'm sorry.

Marbella, is it?

All the same, I congratulate you.

You have come into a fortune.

I don't know how that clause got in there.

You had to get rid of Hugo Lutterworth from the partnership.

And I suspect your wife wanted to get rid of him, too.

They'd had a brief affair.

That was all over, at least as far as she was concerned.

No!

My Lord, I'm not feeling very well.

I-- Oh, my god!

Oh, no!

JUDGE: We'll adjourn now.

MAN: Court rise.

Ah, Rumpole, we've got it for you, the fingerprint evidence.

Ah.

The good captain's dabs, and in all the right places.

Oh, such an incompetent crook.

Still, they always are, aren't they?

The ones who get caught, yes.

How did you know?

Oh, really, Portia, wasn't it obvious?

Bye.

Bye.

The thing about the Bishop of Sidcup is that he's absolutely firm on his principles.

He knows exactly where he stands.

Yes, but do you?

Huh?

What?

Do you know how you stand, Ballard?

A little bit unsteadily, if you ask my opinion.

I mean you're not about to drive this thing, are you?

Well, of course I am, back to Waltham Cross.

How many sherries did you have, Ballard?

Three.

No more than three, Erskine-Brown.

At least five-- way over the limit.

I mean, do get in and drive, but if you ever want to be a judge-- - What?

Drunk driving.

The Lord Chancellor is going to cross you right off his list of possibles.

And in front of the Waltham Cross magistrates, a fellow in Arbuthnot's chambers was telling me it's automatic prison on a breathalyzer.

Three weeks inside stamp out this menace.

You know the sort of thing you get in front of a bench of teetotallers.

But I've missed the 11:15.

I don't think there's another.

Erskine-Brown, what am I going to do?

It's entirely up to you, Ballard.

Waltham Cross.

Now, let me see.

No, I'm afraid it's not on my route.

Good night, Ballard.

Um, could you lend me a spot of cash for a minicab?

I left my checkbook at-- home.

Morning, Ballard.

I brought you a cup of tea.

What's this?

Sleeping rough?

What do you think this is The Sally Ann?

I mean, what would the chaps think?

You're using their chambers as a common boarding house.

You're not going to tell them.

Mm.

It is my clear and professional duty.

I mean, this isn't living accommodation.

You're clearly in breach of the terms of your lease.

What's the matter, old darling?

Mrs. Ballard have enough of you?

There is no Mrs. Ballard.

No.

I don't suppose there is.

[coughs] Rumpole, I've been thinking.

Oh, don't over do it.

I've been thinking.

[chuckles] It might be better if we approach the question of smoking in chambers on a purely voluntary basis.

Now you're talking.

[coughs] After all, you were able to point out to me the provisions of Magna Carta.

And the European Convention on Human Rights.

What's that got to say about it?

No citizen shall be persecuted on the grounds of race, creed, or color, or because he lights up occasionally.

Yeah, well, you may be right.

So, having given the matter my mature consideration-- And no consideration, I'm sure, could be maturer than yours.

--we needn't put smoking on the agenda for our next meeting.

In view of that, it may not be necessary for you to mention the question of any person-- Oh, dossing down in chambers?

Exactly.

I think we understand each other.

Yes.

That's what I admire about you, Ballard.

You're so firm on your principles.

I believe the Bishop of Sidcup was a tremendous hit.

[classical music] ♪ ♪ [clears throat] We won the case, you know.

So you should have.

No, I said we won it, Hilda.

It was your idea.

You thought of the bull point-- the way the girl kept looking at him in court.

I'm not Daddy's daughter for nothing.

Daddy had 45 years at the bar.

Dear old CH Wystan.

Knew nothing whatever about bloodstains, but we'll let that pass.

What are you doing here, Rumpole?

Doing?

Oh, I brought you a geranium.

Hope you like it.

Looks as though it's seen better days.

Well, you could say that of all of us, couldn't you?

Anyway, I live here.

Don't I?

Do you?

I haven't noticed you living here recently.

Oh, I expect you've been busy sweeping out of beds and listening to everyday stories of country folk, that sort of thing.

That's exactly what I've been doing, come to think of it.

Yes, well, you can't come and go as you please, you know.

Do you think that I'm-- - Running a hotel?

How did you know I was going to say that?

Most people do.

Let me pour you a G and T, Hilda, celebrate your famous victory.

It's not every day you win a case in court, Hilda.

HILDA RUMPOLE: Daddy won a case once.

- Extraordinary.

- What did you say?

I say, nothing out of the ordinary.

When CH Wystan-- when Daddy was a young man at the bar, he did a dock brief.

He defended a pickpocket for nothing.

The fellow was accused of stealing a watch.

Oh, really?

HILDA RUMPOLE: Well, Daddy got the fellow off.

It was his first real success.

He was as pleased as punch.

And as he was leaving the old London sessions, this pickpocket came up to him and he said, Mr. Wystan, I'm so grateful to you.

You saved me from prison.

I have no money to give you, but I can offer you this.

And what do you think the fellow did?

No idea.

He offered Daddy the watch.

[laughter] You've heard it before?

No, Hilda.

Promise you.

No, never.

Never.

Take that poor plant out into the kitchen and offer it some water.

It looks exhausted.

[theme music] ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪