by Tim Kevan
Unfortunately, it also meant that the case lasted about ten times longer than it should have: something that became clear from the moment Slippery began to go through every page of the pleadings and evidence as his introduction to this tiny car case. To cap it all, the judge was just a bit wet behind the ears and so he didn’t have the guts to put an end to Slippery’s ridiculous charade.
Then when it came to the cross-examination of the other side’s witness, Slippery leapt up from his seat, left the courtroom to the astonishment of us all and then burst back in, demanding of the witness, ‘Now. When I left the room, with which hand did I open the door?’
To which the witness answered, ‘No idea.’
‘Aha,’ Slippery replied. ‘This obviously shows that your visual memory is unreliable, wouldn’t you agree?’
Every one of us could hear the judge utter ‘What rubbish’ under his breath.
After this Slippery changed tack to: ‘Do you accept that you were driving a lethal weapon?’
‘Er, not exactly,’ the witness answered a little confused. ‘As you can see from my witness statement I was driving my Jaguar XJ6.’
‘But do you accept that a car is a lethal weapon?’
‘What, like your cross-examination?’ he replied sarcastically.
The judge smiled at this before forcing a stern look and saying, ‘If you could just answer the questions please.’
Slippery repeated his question very slowly and with a staccato on each word as if he was punching the witness with each beat. ‘Do you accept that a car is a lethal weapon?’
‘No, my car is an extremely luxurious way of transporting me from A to B.’
‘But do you accept that it still has just as much killing power as, say, a sawn-off shotgun?’
‘Well, in those terms I’d prefer to think of it more as a classic Purdey side-by-side. But nevertheless no, I don’t accept what you are suggesting.’
‘Ah ha, but you accept the possibility that it might be like a Purley shotgun?’
‘Purdey.’
‘Exactly, Purley . . .’
And so it went on. When he eventually emerged from that particular quagmire he said to the witness, ‘You say in your witness statement that my client, and I quote, “came out of nowhere”. Is that correct?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you still say that now?’
‘Yes.’
With this revelation he almost jumped in the air like a footballer celebrating a goal as he then bellowed in the manner of Monty Python’s Spanish Inquisition sketch, ‘But no one comes out of nowhere, now do they?’ Then he added with a smile and a wink (honestly) at the judge, ‘Unless he’s the invisible man of course.’
When it came to submissions on what, as I say, was nothing more than a minor car case, Slippery closed by saying, ‘Sir, if you find for the other side, you may as well rip up the Highway Code.’ At which point he took a copy of the Code which was sitting on the table in front of him and ripped it in half.
If this were not bad enough, the judge then turned to Slippery and said, dryly, ‘That was my copy you just destroyed.’
Ouch.
It will perhaps come as no surprise to hear that despite the strength of his own evidence, he lost.
When I mentioned this later at chambers tea, TheBusker winced and said, ‘He sounds like a walking talking professional negligence action who’d do well to have someone walking in front of him waving a red flag.’
TheVamp chuckled and said, ‘Reminds me of one of those yellow signs the police put out after a crime has occurred which asks for witnesses. I once saw a blank one sitting on a pavement at Cambridge Circus. As if the area was so notoriously bad that the sign represented a crime waiting to happen.’
Wednesday 23 July 2008
Year 2 (week 43): Expert evidence
Obviously after the letter to the judge, BrainWasher’s activities have had to stop. But this hasn’t brought a halt to the proceedings, and today our main expert on the damaging effects of the mobile masts was cross-examined by UpTights. He is a consultant neurologist and everything seemed to be going swimmingly until he suddenly appeared to lose his bottle when UpTights asked, ‘Isn’t it correct that the research from which you have quoted doesn’t specifically deal with the same type of mobile masts as those of the defendant?’
The answer we would have expected was, ‘Well, technically that may be the case. But the subjects of the various studies are sufficiently similar for me to draw very clear conclusions as to the effects of this particular mast. Any differences there may have been were not such as to be relevant.’
Instead, what he gave us was a worried look and then, ‘Er, my Lord, would it be possible to have a short break to visit the lavatory?’
Then, on his return, when UpTights repeated the question, he appeared to crumple. ‘Er, well, yes. It’s right that the studies I refer to aren’t quite the same but even so, I think they’re at least helpful to the court . . .’
But worse was to come. It was as if the proverbial seal had been broken and every time he was asked a difficult question he apparently felt the need to relieve himself and had to be excused to go to the gents. Even JudgeFetish commented at one point, ‘I do understand. It comes to us all in time.’ Which we all took to mean, ‘Thank goodness I don’t yet have prostate problems.’ But the difficulty for us wasn’t the loo breaks. It was the woolly answers he gave on his return which were doing us no favours at all.
After court I met up with Claire to discuss OldRuin’s hospital case. I told her about the expert’s terrible performance.
‘My pupilmistress used to say that you should never trust experts. As she put it, the “x” stands for the unknown factor and the “spurt” is simply a drip under pressure.’ Then she smiled and added, ‘Though maybe it was nerves? After all, a neurologist can hardly avoid nerves in his line of work.’
‘Just like work for an accountant must be incredibly taxing?’ I replied.
‘Exactly and crazy being a psychiatrist.’
‘Shocking to be an electrician.’
‘And foul to be a chicken farmer.’
We were giggling now.
‘Backbreaking work for an orthopaedic surgeon,’ I said.
‘Like pulling teeth to be a dentist,’ said Claire.
‘A complete grind,’ I replied.
‘You know,’ she went on, ‘I once had a dentist with a great sense of humour. He lived in a house called High Pulham, had a boat named Fylmacavity and a coat of arms with the motto Lucram per cariem, which apparently means “prosperity through decay”.’
Thursday 24 July 2008
Year 2 (week 43): Game on
Well, today I heard that TopFirst received a little visit from the police who were very interested in the threatening emails he supposedly sent to me. I know this courtesy of BusyBody in whom, ridiculously, he has confided. Anyway, I’ve heard on the grapevine that he admitted to sending me some of them but he denied sending the most recent particularly incriminating one. It all seems very convenient as far as they’re concerned, I’m sure. But officially at this stage, he’s merely ‘assisting with their enquiries’ apparently, and so there will no doubt be more to come.
This all continues to be rather a high-risk strategy when I’ve no doubt TopFirst’s immediate response to the police will have been to put the blame squarely back on me. The game is well and truly on.
Friday 25 July 2008
Year 2 (week 43): Too many twits . . .
First it was the Judges’ Zoo. Now OldFilth of viagravation fame has taken to using ‘The Twitter’ as OldSmoothie now regularly refers to it. Having checked out his page it’s clear that he’s posting his musings about cases whilst he’s still in court. Here are just a few:
Very attractive counsel appearing before me at the moment.
Ha! They really think they can pull the wool over my eyes that easily.
Hmm. Must be almost lunchtime.
Whose side shall I pi
ck? Attractive counsel or another bore? Difficult one :-) [Yes, even the smile]
He’s currently posting anonymously but robing rooms are all, erm, a twitter [sorry!] with the gossip. Today I had the pleasure of appearing in front of him, which made it rather easy to anticipate exactly what he was thinking. Unfortunately I lost despite my inside track, due to the fact that my female opponent was the above-mentioned attractive one.
Monday 28 July 2008
Year 2 (week 44): King of the pupils
With August almost upon us, the Temple has been beset by a veritable plague of mini-pupils. Little worker ants strutting their stuff and cracking jokes about how stupid or thick this or that Law Lord is to have written this or that irrelevant judgment. With all this activity, TheCreep has spotted an opportunity to make a name for himself by doing free lectures entitled ‘TheCreep’s guide to getting ahead at the Bar’ with a picture of himself in wig and gown pointing at the camera. As he said in the clerks room this morning whilst putting up another poster advertising his lectures, ‘They may seem irrelevant now but these little fledgling legal eaglets will be the ones passing us work when we’re all QCs. It’s time to invest in our futures, BabyB.’
‘Yes,’ said TheVamp, ‘in the Liliputian kingdom of the mini-pupils, even the miniest of barristers is king.’
Tuesday 29 July 2008
Year 2 (week 44): Judges’ intranet
OldFilth’s twittering gave me an idea that I put into practice today. I used one of Slippery’s online virtual assistants in India to hack into the internal network that all the judges log in to. I was after a password. With that achieved surprisingly easily, this morning I made a discreet visit to the library where I happen to know that TopFirst does most of his research. Then it was just a matter of waiting for him to take a ten-minute break before sitting down at his laptop and logging his computer straight into the network. After this I started typing searches for anything on JudgeFetish and then I logged out again before TopFirst returned, leaving no visible trace of what I’d done.
If I’m right, what I did should sound just enough alarm bells for the authorities to track the searches straight back to the IP address of TopFirst’s computer.
Wednesday 30 July 2008
Year 2 (week 44): Time clock
OldSmoothie had a solicitor client today who was wise to his billing strategies and was extremely keen to keep the costs to a minimum. ‘I didn’t send any papers along as I wanted to be with you when you were going through them.’
‘No problem at all,’ said OldSmoothie. ‘Now, would you like a coffee before we get started?’
At this the solicitor clicked his fingers and the assistant he had brought along with him especially for the purpose brought out a huge stopwatch and ostentatiously stopped the clock from running.
‘You know, OldSmoothie, that’s extremely kind. I’d love a coffee and I’d also be delighted to talk about the weather, football, politics or whatever else takes your fancy. Just so long as it’s not on our time.’
‘Er, yes, well, quite. Certainly. Yes.’
After which OldSmoothie conducted what was possibly his fastest conference since he became a QC.
Thursday 31 July 2008
Year 2 (week 44): End of the beginning
The trial officially came to an end today. Well, the evidence and submissions part of it did anyway. WhistleBlower has been left utterly discredited but even so the documents still remain in evidence. The experts disagree as to whether the mobile masts are affecting people’s minds or not, albeit that our neurological expert didn’t prove to be terribly robust. Ultimately it will all come down to the view the judge takes of the evidence. Now we have to wait for up to a month or two whilst he decides and then formulates his judgment.
As we left the court we were greeted by a loud call from BigMouth who then told TheMoldies that they needed to come with him for a photoshoot with one of the Sunday papers about the new ‘litter-picking revolution’ that he now claims to be leading. Tony and Dora looked over at me with a wry smile before I encouraged them to go for it.
Chapter 11
August: Bluffing
Friday 1 August 2008
Year 2 (week 44): Triple bluff
Had another visit from the police today over the threats made to JudgeFetish. I have to say I was a little surprised, having figured that both my fake threatening email from TopFirst and then his supposed hacking into the judges’ intranet would ensure that he was their prime suspect. However, I hadn’t counted on TopFirst’s own ingenuity and it seems he’s responded by faking a couple of emails of his own, ostensibly from yours truly and also hinting at fixing the Moldy litigation. Sooner or later this game of bluff and double bluff is going to explode in one or other of our faces.
For the moment I simply denied any knowledge of these alleged emails and made my own view just a little bit clearer that TopFirst must be behind the whole thing. I mean, if I was the one trying to influence JudgeFetish, it wouldn’t make sense that I’d have also alerted him to it.
The triple bluff.
Monday 4 August 2008
Year 2 (week 45): Like flies round . . .
I was against TheVamp in court today.
‘Let’s play the word game again, BabyB. It always brightens up a dull day in court. What word do you challenge me to get into the hearing without the judge noticing? Any animal, insect or bird.’
TheVamp was looking more than a little worse for wear after what I guessed was a heavy weekend, and the phrase rough as a badger’s back end sprung to mind, and so I answered with, ‘How about “badger”?’
‘Thanks a lot, BabyB,’ she answered, getting the reference. ‘I know I’m not looking my best, but really. OK, for that you can have the word “termite”.’
‘Agreed and if either of us fail by lunch then it’s on them.’
So it was that we spent the next hour in court trying to think of a way to try and spell out our particular words without the judge realising.
TheVamp struck first when she said, ‘The other side’s case is riddled with clichés, to which I have no objection except to point out that they’re often just not good English. In the same way that ‘Vorsprung durch Technik’ is bad German.’
She looked over at me in triumph. Just as the deadline was approaching and I was beginning to give up hope, I had an idea. I stopped in the middle of the submissions I was making and looked over at the clock. The judge and everyone else in the courtroom followed my gaze. I then turned back to the judge and said, ‘Your Honour, to use the words of the late Mr Justice Carter, might this be a suitable time for a break?’
After a good lunch TheVamp’s hangover was clearly starting to subside and she was getting into her stride with quite a forthright cross-examination of a male witness. That is until he suddenly lost his rag and said, ‘You know what your problem is, young lady. All these aggressive questions. What you really need—’
The judge interrupted at this point with, ‘This case isn’t about counsel. Please just answer the questions which are put to you.’
The witness apparently looked a little put out and replied, ‘M’Lord, you see, the thing is, all that attention. It goes to their heads, it does. She’s a tease. I saw them young lawyers in the waiting room. All gathering around her like flies round—’
Before the witness could finish his sentence, I quickly stood up and interrupted him with, ‘bees . . . honeypots . . . surely?’
‘Quite so,’ smiled the judge.
Tuesday 5 August 2008
Year 2 (week 45): Judicial suspicions
Only a few days since their last visit and it was an inauspicious start to my morning when HeadClerk rang up to my room and told me two policemen were here for me. It sent my stomach tumbling just a little southwards. However, when I went to meet them they assured me that they were just here to deliver my hard drive back safely after supposedly examining it for the last few weeks. They then asked if they could have a little word ‘in confide
nce’.
‘Of course,’ I replied, taking them into a conference room in chambers.
‘Well,’ said the PC who had been taking the lead, ‘you see, your friend TopFirst may well be in a lot of trouble for threatening your judge, and that’s before we even get to the matter of his faking emails from your good self. The problem is that we discussed the investigation with someone from the CPS yesterday and they said there was almost certainly not enough evidence to prosecute.’
‘Oh,’ I replied. ‘So how can I help?’
‘Well, we’ve decided that perhaps the best way to bring him out into the open is to let the case proceed, delay the judgment for a few weeks and see if he makes another attempt to influence the judge in some way. It’s a long shot but you never know.’
‘I see.’
‘Yes. But what we want to avoid is any complaint from your side about having this particular judge on board.’
‘Does the judge know about all these shenanigans yet?’
‘We haven’t told him whom we suspect, although he may well have his suspicions.’
They then gave me the kind of old-fashioned look that only corrupt policemen seem to be able to pull off with a straight face. That 1970s, cheeky, raised eyebrow, ‘know what I mean, wink, wink’ look that told me that they’d very clearly dropped enough hints to identify TopFirst as the prime suspect to the judge.