Rumpole Misbehaves by John Mortimer

weren’t, that you were an entirely innocent cog in a complicated piece of machinery.’
    â€˜Oh, is that all I was?’ Scottie looked almost disappointed.
    Did I believe him? I told myself firmly that it didn’t matter what I believed, a jury would have to decide.
    So we left Brixton Prison and a client who seemed to regret he would never make a serious criminal. He was just someone who, like the girls in the crates, had been taken for a ride.

13
    A week or two later I was contemplating with some satisfaction the current state of the Rumpole career: an important murder in Court Number One at the Old Bailey, from which I had managed to remove the unwelcome assistance of my not so learned leader, and the curious case of the crated women. I treated myself to a couple of ham sandwiches and had just opened my private bottle of Pommeroy’s Very Ordinary when, like a dark cloud flitting across a sunlit sky, my ex-leader appeared in the doorway.
    â€˜Rumpole!’ Sam Ballard’s greeting was not altogether friendly. ‘You’re doing it again .’
    â€˜Oh yes. I manage to keep going somehow. A number of important cases in the pipeline. There’s a satisfactory number of persons who still need Rumpole. And I’m perfectly willing to oblige.’
    â€˜I’m not talking about your criminal practice, Rumpole. I speak of your repeated anti-social behaviour. You’ve brought food in here again, Rumpole, you’re bringing alcoholic drink into Chambers, and when you finish your picnic I’ve no doubt that you’ll be tempted to smoke one of those unhealthy little cigars you still carry about with you.’
    â€˜I have every intention,’ I told him, ‘of yielding to that temptation.’
    â€˜Not for much longer! The government will soon see to that.’
    Ballard sighed heavily, looked at me in a despairing sort of way and plonked himself down in my client’s chair.
    â€˜I’m here to help you, Rumpole, to help and advise you. Now, wasn’t it very foolish of you to avoid service of the ASBO?’
    â€˜I couldn’t take it seriously.’
    â€˜You’ll have to take it seriously.’
    â€˜The serious thing about ASBOs is that they’re an outrage to our great legal system. A boy kicking a football can be sent to prison for conduct which is not a crime after not having had a fair trial with the presumption of innocence. The boy either wears his ASBO like a badge of honour or goes to prison, where he can learn to be a serious crook.’
    â€˜Rumpole, you must move with the times.’
    â€˜If I don’t like the way the times are moving I shall refuse to accompany them.’
    â€˜Very well then.’ Ballard slapped his knees and hinged himself out of my chair. ‘You can expect service of another document.’
    â€˜And what about your behaviour?’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜Telling my solicitor Bonny Bernard that you couldn’t do the murder case because of a previous engagement when in truth you’d taken a hearty dislike to young Wetherby and all his doings.’
    Ballard stood silent for a moment then said, ‘The solicitors don’t know that, do they?’
    â€˜Not yet. But they may do if we hear any more about this ASBO business.’
    There was a long pause. Ballard heaved a sigh and made his way to the door. ‘I’ll have to consult all our members. Some of them were very keen on the idea.’
    So he left me. I have to admit that I felt a pang of guilt. Had the criminal instincts of my clients rubbed off on me and was I guilty of blackmail? I dismissed the thought on the grounds that all is fair in love and ASBOs, then I finished my glass of Pommeroy’s Very Ordinary.

14
    â€˜Listen! you hear the grating roar
    Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
    At their return, up the high strand…’
    â€˜What’s that all about?’ Bonny Bernard