Crowner and Justice

by Barrie Roberts

  The chairman was saved from having to restrain Maddox. The offender was anxious to say that he recognised that his phrase was ‘unfortunate’ and that he withdrew the question.

  Nevertheless, even the chairman thought that Maddox had had enough latitude.

  ‘You have spent sometime, Mr Maddox, exploring the history of BDS and its labour relations record. Unless there are good reasons for going further in that direction, perhaps you could bring your witness to the events which are the subject of these Applications?’

  ‘Oh, indeed Mr Chairman. I have all the background which I imagine you might need, sir. I shall try to forge ahead.’

  He fluttered his hands among the papers on his table, while I wondered if all of BDS were trained in nautical imagery. At last he cleared his throat and began again:

  ‘Mr Bailey, if we might come, as the Tribunal wishes, to the subject of these Applications — I am right, I believe, in saying that the situation arose out of an order given to the Applicant Mohammed Afsar?’

  I rose again, before Bailey could answer. ‘Mr Chairman,’ I said, ‘While Mr Maddox took us through his excursion into industrial history I made no complaint about the form of his questions, largely because the answers were irrelevant to the cases in hand. If we are, at last, to come to the point, I shall be grateful if my colleague could be asked to abandon his habit of using leading questions.’

  Maddox smiled, sardonically. ‘I am grateful, I am sure, for Mr Tyroll’s forbearance up to this point, and I shall attempt not to try his patience from now on.’

  The chairman smiled. ‘Thank you, Mr Maddox. At the same time, Mr Tyroll, I would remind you that this is not a Court, it is an administrative Tribunal, and the rules of evidence differ from those with which you may be more familiar. Please proceed, Mr Maddox.’

  ‘What did all that mean?’ Sheila whispered.

  ‘He keeps asking leading questions — questions that suggest the answer.’

  ‘No,’ she hissed, ‘I know that bit. What was the rest of it?’

  ‘The rest was a reminder that scruffy little Magistrates’ Court advocates like me have no business here.’

  Maddox had waited with exaggerated patience for our whisperings to end. Now he launched his questioning again.

  ‘Mr Bailey, all three of the Applicants were dismissed by you on the same day in May of this year. Can you explain to us how that came about?’

  Bailey clasped his hands on the table again. ‘Yes,’ he began. ‘In May of this year we had a slowing down in the work on Retaliator at our Belston works.’

  ‘A slowing down?’

  ‘Yes. You will appreciate that various processes are carried out at our different premises which come together eventually into a finished product. The Retaliator work was mainly based at Belston, but certain processes were being handled at Coventry. When you have that kind of situation, it is important to try and keep the operations at different plants running in phase, so that there are no unnecessary delays.’

  ‘But that wasn’t possible in May?’

  ‘No. Certain work at Coventry took longer than expected, leaving a number of sections at Belston unable to proceed with the next stages of the operation.’

  ‘That must be a matter of great concern to you, something like that happening?’

  ‘It is, of course. Not only does it delay the entire operation, it reduces profitability and, if it goes on long enough, it may cause the laying-off of workers from those sections which cannot proceed. To avoid that, I took a number of measures, one of which was to ask the heads of departments to consider any jobs that needed to be done and which could be tackled while Belston waited for Coventry to come through. One such suggestion came from Mr Greene, who heads the Accounts Section at Belston. He had a long term project which he had mentioned to me on various occasions.’

  ‘And what was that?’

  ‘I don’t now recall all the details, but it was to do with computerising certain accounts records which we still held on paper. He had not been able to get it done before because he said that all his operators were fully engaged.’

  ‘And how did you respond?’

  ‘I told him that a large part of the computer section were held up by the delays at Coventry, so that it ought to be possible for him to borrow someone from Mr Swan in Computers who could do the work.’

  ‘And having made that decision, I imagine you didn’t expect to hear any more about it?’

  ‘Quite right. I knew that Computers were almost at a standstill, and if all Mr Greene needed was someone who could handle a computer, then it seemed a good time for him to use some of Mr Swan’s spare capacity.’

  ‘And what happened next?’

  ‘The next I heard was that Greene had asked Swan for a man and that Swan had asked Mohammed Afsar, who had refused.’

  ‘And what did you do?’

  ‘I telephoned Afsar at once and made clear that it was my decision and that I expected it to be obeyed.’

  ‘And how did he respond?’

  ‘He refused. Told me that he had not been employed as an Accounts Clerk. He refused.’

  ‘And what did you do?’

  ‘I told him that, if he wasn’t prepared to do as he was told, I had no use for him at BDS and that he might as well go home.’

  ‘And did he go home?’

  ‘He must have done, because I had a phone call later that day from his father. He tried to suggest that it was all some kind of mistake and suggested that, if his son apologised, I might be prepared to take him back.’

  ‘And how did you respond?’

  ‘I told him that, if his son both apologised and agreed to work in Accounts, I would consider reinstating him.’

  ‘And what happened next?’

  ‘I heard no more of the matter until early in the following week, when Mulvaney and Martin came to see me about Afsar.’

  ‘And what was their point?’

  ‘Mulvaney sought to argue that Afsar had been improperly dismissed. He was very aggressive in putting across his point of view and would not listen to my argument.’

  ‘And what was your argument?’

  ‘That Afsar had been an employee of BDS and thereby obliged to obey any legitimate order of the management. He had quite deliberately refused such an order and I had every right to dismiss him.’

  ‘So, you reached no agreement. Was there any further meeting with any Union representative?’

  ‘Yes. I had another meeting with Mulvaney, but it was the same as the first. He kept saying that Afsar was being made a scapegoat, that I had broken the agreed dismissal and disciplinary procedures and that it was this kind of thing that had led to strikes in the past. I told him that Afsar had quite clearly and deliberately disobeyed an order and that I viewed that as misconduct sufficient to warrant immediate dismissal. We argued this about for some time, but we were getting nowhere. Eventually Mulvaney said that he was going to raise the matter with his Union at a national level.’

  ‘And how did you respond to that?’

  ‘I told him that he must do as he thought best, but I was actually quite pleased. I have always found the Union’s national officers — most particularly the Midland Regional Secretary, Mr Goatly — to be reasonable and responsible men with whom one can deal.’

  ‘And you later had a meeting with them?’

  ‘Yes, well, with Mr Goatly. That was a much more successful meeting.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Goatly started off by taking Mulvaney’s argument that the dismissal of Afsar was in breach of the disciplinary rules, but he was far less aggressive than Mulvaney had been. I agreed that, in the haste of the moment, I might have overlooked some aspects of the procedure, and we set about finding a solution that was acceptable to both of us.’

  ‘And did you?’

  He nodded firmly ‘Oh yes. I agreed with Goatly that Afsar could be reinstated as soon as he cared to come back to work.’

  ‘And you no longer demande
d an apology, despite Afsar’s behaviour to you personally?’

  Another leading question, but I let it pass.

  ‘No,’ said Bailey. ‘It seemed to me much more important to end the whole episode satisfactorily rather than to stand on my personal pride.’

  A very statesmanlike answer, which earned him a nod from the chairman.

  ‘And, after your meeting with Mr Goatly, you thought that was the end of the matter?’

  ‘Of course. Afsar had his job back if he wanted it. There was nothing further to bother about.’

  ‘But you heard again from the Applicants — from Messrs Mulvaney and Martin?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Bailey looked pained at the memory. ‘They came to see me again and said that they needed to clear up one or two points about Afsar’s reinstatement.’

  ‘And which points were those?’

  ‘They wanted an assurance in writing that Afsar’s pension and redundancy rights would not be affected by the interruption of his employment. Insofar as it had only been a matter of days, I agreed to that with no argument. Then Mulvaney said, “So, you will be paying him for the days that he’s been away?”‘

  ‘How did you respond to that?’

  ‘I was very angry. I had bent over backwards to solve what I considered to be a quite minor matter of a disobedient employee, and here they were trying to extract every penny from the situation. I refused, and told that I thought Afsar was very lucky to have been offered reinstatement, that my terms had been quite acceptable to their Regional Secretary and that I was not prepared to waste any further time on it.’

  ‘How did they respond?’

  ‘Mulvaney said that it wasn’t a question of how Goatly viewed it, but how the membership saw it. He said that he was going to call a general meeting of the Union and we would see what the members thought, but it was the sort of thing that had caused strikes in the past. That was the end of our discussion.’

  The chairman looked at his watch and muttered something to the clerk, then announced, ‘This hearing will now be adjourned until this afternoon.’

  The clerk echoed him, ‘This hearing is adjourned until 2.15 this afternoon.’

  The Tribunal and clerk took their exit from the side door and everyone else began to drift into the corridor, most of us reaching for our cigarettes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Outside the hearing room, Maddox was chatting to one of the journalists, so I had no opportunity to ask how long he expected to be with Bailey before I had a chance to cross-examine. Mulvaney and Martin buttonholed me by the lift.

  ‘How much more of this crap have we got to sit through?’ Mulvaney demanded.

  ‘You know the game, Con. We put up with however much Maddox wants and the chairman will let him get away with. Then we get our chance.’

  ‘Are you coming for a pint?’ asked Martin.

  I shook my head. ‘No, sorry. The air-conditioning in that room gets at my throat and alcohol will make me sleepy this afternoon. I’m going to go and get some fresh, dusty, petrol-sodden, Brummy air.’

  Sheila and I bought sandwiches and soft drinks and headed for the Cathedral churchyard, just around the corner. Although we were well into September, the weather had stayed warm, and we sprawled on the grass of the little churchyard to take our picnic.

  Sheila had wandered off to read the inscription on the memorial to the battle of Abu Klea when a voice hailed me.

  ‘Hello, Mr Tyroll. Enjoying the sunshine?’

  It was Samson, the man whose ponies I had rescued from the rustler.

  ‘Enjoying a well-deserved break from an Employment Tribunal, actually,’ I said. ‘What brings you to Brum?’

  ‘Oh, it’s my day for sorting out all my business in Birmingham. I’ve got to see someone in Bennett’s Hill.’

  ‘You didn’t have any more problems over the ponies, did you?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, no. That was alright. Maiden’s Security Manager was a bit awkward about it, and put us to a lot of trouble about picking them up, but we got them in the end and Maiden has let us graze them on his field. We’re grateful, Mr Tyroll.’

  ‘No problem, Mr Samson. That’s what we’re here for — to keep the wolf from the lambs and the rustlers from your ponies.’

  He laughed, lifted a hand and ambled away across the green. It was the last time I ever saw him.

  Sheila came back and was sitting beside me when another voice greeted me. This time it was one of the three journalists I had seen in the hearing, a tall, hard-faced man with short, greying fair hair.

  ‘Mr Tyroll?’ he said. I nodded. ‘I’m John Walters,’ he said. ‘I’m a freelance reporter covering your hearing. I wondered,’ he went on, ‘if that was Mr Samson you were talking to?’

  I nodded again. ‘Do you know him?’ I asked.

  ‘Slightly,’ he said. ‘I filed a story about him and his mate’s ponies, but it didn’t get used.’

  ‘Well, if you want an interview with the legal genius who reactivated a piece of medieval law, now’s your chance.’

  He grinned and shook his head. ‘They wouldn’t run it the first time. It’s old news now. So, he was a client of yours, was he?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Have you finished in the Tribunal for the day? Have you given all of the bosses’ side to the evening papers and you’re not going to listen to us?’

  He grinned again. ‘Oh, I shall be in and out in case you come up with something exciting, Mr Tyroll.’

  He waved a hand and strolled away. ‘Blimey!’ I said. ‘If you can’t be left alone in a graveyard, where can you?’

  We picked up our litter and started back to the hearing.

  Maddox reminded Bailey that he was still under oath and away we went.

  ‘Now, Mr Bailey. Before the luncheon adjournment you told us that, at your last meeting with the Applicants, Mulvaney threatened you with a strike.’

  I had to rise. ‘Mr Bailey said,’ I objected, ‘that Mr Mulvaney had said that this had been the kind of incident that had led to strikes in the past. That is an observation, not a threat.’

  ‘It depends,’ said the chairman, ‘on how Mr Bailey viewed the “observation”. Did you take it as a threat, Mr Bailey?’

  ‘I did, sir, particularly coupled with his announcement that he was going to put the matter to his members.’

  I subsided. Maddox smiled at me and continued:

  ‘So, Mr Mulvaney threatened a strike and announced that he was calling a general meeting. What occurred next?’

  ‘I was informed that there had been a general meeting of the Union and that there had been a vote taken to ballot the branch for a strike.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Do? There was nothing I could do except await any action by the Union. Subsequently I received a formal notice that the Union was balloting for a strike.’

  Maddox selected a document from his files and passed it across. ‘Is this that document?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘And did you notice anything unusual about it?’

  ‘I don’t know if you would call it unusual. Your office advised me that it was in the proper legal form, but I noticed that it was signed by Mulvaney as Chairman of Shop Stewards for the Belston Branch, not by any national officer of the Union.’

  ‘And wouldn’t you say that was unusual?’

  ‘I don’t know the Union’s rules and procedures, but I would have thought that such a document should have been signed by the National Secretary.’

  I rose. ‘Mr Chairman, before the witness speculates any further about what he admits he doesn’t know, could I ask whether the Respondent has any evidence on this point?’

  The chairman looked at Maddox, who smiled happily.

  ‘There will, Mr Chairman, be evidence as to the Union’s usual procedures and rules,’ he said, ‘and in the meantime I shall be grateful if the notice of ballot can be entered as a Respondent’s Exhibit.’

  I sat down and the formalities we
re gone through before Maddox resumed. On the corner of my notepad I wrote, ‘WHO is the Union fink who will give evidence?’ I would have to ask Mulvaney for a guess.

  ‘So, Mr Bailey, you had some kind of a notice of the Union ballot. What then?’

  ‘Next I received a notification of the result of the ballot and a notice of the intended strike. That was also signed by Mulvaney.’

  ‘And did you respond?’

  ‘Yes. I did that time. I wrote to Mulvaney, saying that I had received his notice but that I did not regard it as legal and proposed to ignore it.’

  Maddox selected two more documents from his file, had Bailey confirm that they were the notice and his reply and had them entered as Exhibits.

  ‘And did you receive any further communication from Mr Mulvaney or from the Union?’

  ‘No, but I phoned Mr Goatly and told him that Mulvaney was, in my view, fomenting an illegal strike.’

  ‘How did he respond?’

  ‘He confirmed my view that the Union had not authorised the ballot or the strike, and said that he would try and stop Mulvaney making any further trouble.’

  ‘Were those his actual words?’

  I was up again. ‘Mr Chairman, I am aware that hearsay evidence is admissible before this Tribunal, but I suggest that Mr Bailey’s account of what Mr Goatly may or may not have said is deeply prejudicial and should not be admitted.’

  The chairman considered the complaint for about half a second before replying. ‘Mr Tyroll, I have reminded you before that this is an administrative tribunal, not a Court of Law, and that the rules of evidence are different here. No doubt when your own witnesses come to give evidence they will wish to avail themselves of our more realistic rules. Carry on, Mr Maddox.’

  Maddox smirked at me. ‘Thank you, Mr Chairman.’ I made a mental note to stop losing objections. It must look bad to the blokes at the back who were paying for my alleged skills.

  ‘I think we can assist Mr Tyroll by cutting the matter short, Mr Bailey. If he won’t object to my leading a little. Mr Goatly I believe, failed to convince Mr Mulvaney and the strike went ahead.’

  ‘That’s so, yes.’ Bailey looked pained.

  ‘And on the first day of the strike you had a confrontation with the Applicants?’