All language subtitles for North Square s01e08.eng

Who do these remind you of?

- Don't know.
- Are they hard?

Yeah.

Are they heavy?

Yeah.

Do they have any hair?

No.

Bald and hard and heavy.

- The Fleck family.
- You're a clever boy, Bob.

And these?

Spiky, green...

The Green family?

And there you have it.

The two biggest crime families in Leeds
in a nutshell.

And I've got them all here, in my hands,

and my hands are feeling very clever, Bob.

Very, very clever.

Three months ago
the Green family and the Fleck family

kicked the hell out of each other
in the crown court lobby.

A bad day for serious crime,

all done for affray
and on Monday all on trial.

And we've got to win.
The Green family has to get off.

To be at liberty to run the crime empire
that we rely on for so much of our work.

So the Greens have got to say
it's all down to the Flecks.

"They hit us, Your Honour."

- No.
- No?

The thing about Jesus Christ
that I admire so much,

forget the religious thing,
cos that's all bollocks, obviously,

is that he was so relaxed under pressure.

You know why? Planning.

He always had a plan, JC.

- Have you got a plan?
- We've got a plan.

What's the plan?

If the Greens try to get the Flecks down
and vice versa, the jury will pot the lot.

They'll say, "Fuck it. They're as bad
as each other. Let's pot the lot."

So we're doing something different.

I've been talking to Alan Green,
the spikiest conker of the lot.

- And?
- We've got a meeting with the Flecks.

We're going to call a truce.

- Does Harry Fleck know about your plan?
- That's what the meeting's for.

I'm not saying I've got the feeling, more
of a feeling that feels like the feeling.

- So, a pre-feeling feeling?
- I wouldn't expect you to understand.

You think I've never had the feeling?
I get it.

- You get the feeling?
- I've had it.

- With Rose?
- We've all had the feeling, Alex.

We just don't all whack
the quick-release button.

How is it with the mighty Rose? Forgiven?

Forgiven? Yes. Forgotten?
Not as long as we both shall live.

We're cruising for sexy men in wigs.

- Know any?
- Who wants to know?

Alan Green and his backing band.
There's a pow-wow this evening.

- You, not you.
- Not me?

Alan's nervous. You didn't toe the line
when you defended Frank.

- I got him off.
- I know.

- Are the punters running things now?
- I'm sorry. It's out of my hands.

Nothing's out of your hands, Peter.
You've got the whole world in your hands.

"Hello, Stevie. How was your day?"

- How was your day?
- Fine. How was your day?

- Fine.
- Good.

The pre-feeling feeling
just became the feeling.

I'm sick of being treated
like her property

and I'm sick of being made to feel by Peter
that my downstairs is good for business.

If you do anything to jeopardise the cases
Stevie brings to chambers,

he'll turn the full force of his wrath
on your very privately educated arse.

- Do you know how I feel?
- Like a girl.

Like a really big girl.

- And you want out.
- Wouldn't you?

- Any suggestions?
- I favour letting them down

by letting them think
that they were letting me down.

She'll need just cause.

- Ms Image, lovely to see you.
- Mr Guthrie. Mr Hay.

The Fleck family bring you a lot of work.

You can't do without them.

And the Green family the same for you.

Neither of us can afford to let
them go away for a couple of years.

- What are you saying?
- I hate your guts. You hate mine.

But we're here. We're talking.

Because we both recognise
it's toour advantage.

Our job is to get Harry Fleck
and Alan Green to do the same.

- Bury differences?
- Talk.

We all need to be grown-ups, Marlowe.
You, me, Harry, Alan.

Three out of four I can buy.
I'm not so sure about you, Peter.

You don't have much choice, do you?

Do you?

Two police discipline
briefs in three weeks.

Are you trying to perforate Peter's ulcer?

I was approached.
I'm interested in the cases.

It muddies his water, makes him nervous.

Hm. I'm a barrister, Wendy,
not his barrister.

Be ready to make a move in 15 minutes.

Call me old-fashioned
but wouldn't Frank Green benefit

from having somebody
who wants to represent him represent him?

- Like Billy, for instance.
- I'm sorry, Rose.

You're the only one who does it for him.
You were requested.

And what Frank Green wants, he gets.

That's how I keep you lot in monkey nuts.

Whatever happened to quality
instead of quantity?

This is criminal law.

You don't get better quality
than the Green family.

What do you want, Rose?
The Earl of whatever's drink-driving problem?

Viscount too-rich-to-give-a-shit's
little bit of coke?

Class?

You want class and you do crime?
This is it, top rung, royal family.

Do we have to walk quite so... fast?

Sorry. Big meeting in half an hour.

You didn't have to walk me to work
if you had to be somewhere.

I wanted to. I wanted to talk to you.

I've had a thought.

You've got to get out of your flat
and you haven't found anywhere else.

So what I thought was,

until you have time
to look for a place of your own,

why not, as a stop gap,
well, move in with me?

Is stopping dead in your tracks
a good sign or bad?

First of all, I'd like to acknowledge
the wisdom and maturity of both families

in setting aside
your not inconsiderable differences

and calling this temporary truce.

This fight, nutshell.

Eight suits, 16 legs,
16 arms, four bald heads, four with hair,

in a nine-second scary as hell bundle.

No witness can say which suit did what,
whose arm was where or why.

Whose hand was on whose nutshell.

So the prosecution are in trouble.

You're individuals.

They have to prove the case
against each one of you. They can't.

Provided you lot don't start
shouting and screaming

and finger-wagging at each other
in Court No. 1.

Shouting and screaming
and finger-wagging is evidence.

And the jury will watch it.

And if that starts to happen,
suddenly the prosecution are OK.

They can sit back and watch you
send each other down for three years.

Sorry I'm late. You wouldn't believe
the ring road at this time...

This is bullshit.

Harry wonders if you
have a problem, Frank.

You hit me first, Harry.
You know you did and I know you did.

I feel a bit innocent, to be frank.

Look...

She's the enemy, not each other.

She?

The Queen, the crown.

Button it up in front
of her, we all go home.

That's the Virgin Mary.

There are some women
who are so far above the rest, Mr Mitford,

it's one and the same thing,
her, ER II, Greta Garbo.

Now, that's a scary as hell bundle.

OK, boys.

I have an invite to an exclusive private view in
the city gallery in half an hour so make it quick.

- Mr Knight?
- No fixed abode, might abscond.

Mr Ali?

Well, the fact that he has no fixed abode
actually cuts right to the heart of the case.

My client was bought a flat by his father on
the understanding that it was a gift for life.

And when that gift was
subsequently taken...

Look around you, Mr Ali.

Jury, ushers,

grim-looking relatives of the accused,
any of that stuff?

No, Judge.

And why?

Because we're not in court, Judge.

Why I should grant your
client bail, Mr Ali.

Ten words or less.

Sorry, Judge.

You'd better have a spanking good reason
for irradiating my room with that object.

Yes, Judge.

As of six o'clock this evening it appears my
client has been given a bed in a bail hostel.

Point of order, Judge.
That wasn't ten words or less.

- You cut that a bit fine.
- Bail's bail, Anthony.

Gotta go.

Successful afternoon?

Not entirely.
Thanks for doing my bail app.

No problem.

- Bit of a lost cause but...
- No, I got it.

- Oh, you got it?
- I got Steven Bennett bail.

- You got him bail?
- After I got him a place in a hostel.

- Kiss me hard on the mouth.
- Kiss?

Very funny.

The prosecution do have one witness
who holds up better than the others.

But he stands alone.

It's not beyond our collective ken to find
a way to chop him up if the need arises.

- Who's ken?
- Ken as in nous.

Savvy, prowess.

As opposed to Dalglish, Livingstone,

or Branagh.

- Are you taking the piss?
- No.

Frankly, I'm talking to you as an equal.

Frankly, Frank, as in Bough.

Or Bruno.

If we stick together it's
up to the prosecution

to make the most of what is, in effect,
a pretty weak case.

And by playing on their witnesses' inability
to be specific, we don't think they can.

And we don't think they will.

Acquittal, times eight.

Hang on, no. This is wrong.
This should be for Morag, not Hussein.

Will you sign here, please, mate?

Thanks a lot.

- Shit.
- What's up?

Gazumping. We've got a gazumper
and I'm not having it.

You know who you sound like?

I do indeed, Bob. I do indeed.

Business is business.

Crime is crime. Let's not get sentimental.

Everyone seems happy.

- Happy, Alex?
- Deliriously.

- Drink later?
- Why not?

- Call me.
- Right.

- How's Helen?
- Good.

Great.

So, doable or what?

If Alan can learn to sit
on Frankie by tomorrow.

What about your lot?

Still gladly see yours
under a few of these headstones.

But they're clear about one thing.
They do what Harry says.

And at the moment Harry
says let's be friends.

Joining forces makes sense.

- I love it.
- You love it?

The sense of unease.

The thread that holds all this together.
It's high-class politics, this.

- Better than sex.
- Better than sex.

- Are you a Catholic?
- Why?

You and the virgin thing in the church.
Had a ring of truth.

If I was a Catholic, Marlowe,
I'd be Pope by now.

I know that getting your client bail
at the third attempt was impressive.

Hussein Ali is a very talented young
barrister, as is Morag Black,

who would have done the bail application
had she not been tied up with a case.

What's going on?

I hear what you're saying, Mr Mogdhil.

- I don't understand.
- What's my name doing here?

Your client can brief who they want.

- But we both know...
- God, you must think I'm so stupid.

I didn't ask for this, Morag.

Stephen Bennett didn't need bail.
He wasn't going anywhere.

So why put yourself to all that trouble
of getting him a place in a bail hostel

if not to impress him
into changing horse midstream?

No, he had a right not to be on remand
for any longer than was necessary.

And what about my right
to expect my so-called friends

not to steal my cases behind my back?

Mr Mogdhil, the case solicitor,
he's Asian, too, isn't he, sir?

- You what?
- Just an observation, sir.

I would be super careful what I say
if I were you, Johnny Boy.

Always,

sir.

Teaming up with scum like that
turns my stomach.

It's about having the
brains to see the future.

A lot of business coming up
we need to not be in prison for.

If your boys and girls
do their stuff tomorrow, Peter,

you'll be puffing on expensive cigars
for many years to come.

Doing their stuff is what they do.
Their stuff is never not done.

It's what makes my lot special.

Sanju, Hussein.

Look, I appreciate the gesture,
but I can't take the brief.

Morag's much better
at these messy domestics than I am.

Well, tell him getting him bail is one thing.
Keeping him out of prison is quite another.

Whoever you are, I've got a knife.

And a dog.

My boyfriend's due back any minute
plus I've started my period

so whatever you've got
in mind, try next door.

This is Johnny Boy.

Johnny Boy?

Oh, shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Sorry about that.
You can't be too careful.

No, I was well impressed.

Really? You didn't think
I was playing all my cards too quickly?

You gave me four reasons to splatter
me kecks in under 2o seconds.

Stephen Bennett, 1oam, all yours.

- How?
- Call it the gift of the gab.

Better leave you to it.
Looks like an all-nighter.

Oh, I don't know.
I'm pretty good at mastering briefs.

I'm a boxer-short man myself.

I forgot.

I could jog your memory if you like.

I'd like.

- Nice towel.
- Bit wet.

I'll take that as a compliment.

If you're looking to host the World Cup,
slip the dosh under the door.

- I've been looking for you.
- Oh, well, now you've found me.

I thought you were going to give me a call.
I tried calling you but your mobile's switched off.

I needed to concentrate
during qualification.

- Sorry?
- England needed to beat Lithuania to qualify.

Went to penalties.
They missed four, we missed... three.

It wasn't the result I was looking for
but we're in the tournament

and I firmly believe I've got a
squad of tossers what can win it.

Are you coming for a drink or...?

England-Germany in the quarterfinals.
Beat them and it could go all the way.

Right. I'll see you tomorrow.

I think I might try 4-4-2.
What do you reckon?

No Alex?

Either reliving or still
living his childhood.

I can't quite decide which.

The great Peter McLeish,
nervous about a case?

The Greens have a large circle of associates.
They'll be watching how we perform.

Win or lose,
the effect could be massive for us.

- Do you think the Flecks will hold together?
- Just about.

Though it wouldn't take much
for the stitching to come apart.

- How's Marlowe?
- Marlowe's Marlowe.

He wouldn't give away
a sheet of used toilet paper

if he thought it put
him at a disadvantage.

Well, we've done our bit.

All that's left is
for us to hold on for the ride.

Here's to winning.

- Massive.
- To winning massive.

- Am I not good, Bob?
- At what?

- Am I not fair?
- Fair enough.

Do you not benefit from my experience?
Am I not generous with my bonhomie?

In short, as bosses go, do I not rate?

Best boss I ever had, boss.

And in return I ask two things.

Diligence.

- Sorry I'm late.
- And punctuality.

How are my two darlings of Court No. 1
this morning? Ready for the big one?

He sounds more and more
like Dan Maskell every day.

What's to get ready?

Verbal banter first thing.
Better than a double espresso.

Good morning, Miss.

Um, alarm didn't gooff.

A word in your Scottish shell-like.

Your client's been waiting 17 minutes.

You're a barrister.
I am but your humble clerk.

- So?
- So, it looks like shit. I won't have it.

Your fellow competitor for the tenancy here
is never late. Do I make myself clear?

It won't happen again.

One other thing.

Yes?

Stop fucking below stairs.

It always ends in tears and, more often
than you'd like to think, a sacking.

It's not fair. Boys Johnny Boy's
age think with their dick.

Luckily you can't, so do the decent thing
and sooner rather than later,

and now thank me for not giving your case back
to Hussein who deserves it more than you do.

- Thank you.
- Go lick your client's arse.

Do you think
she'll so much as glance at your trousers

when she's pulling in 1oo grand a year?

You're just the first well-hung rung
on her ladder, son.

Believe me. I know whereof I speak.

Would you say there's a history of bad blood
between you and your father, Stephen?

I was what they call a
gifted child, Miss Black.

My father's a relatively simple man.

I don't think he ever really understood
how to relate to me.

But he saved up for years to buy you
a flat when you went to university.

That was something he felt he should do.
I never asked for it.

And when you dropped out of university?

He took the flat back.

It's in the statement
I did for Mr Mogdhil.

And then, according to your statement,
he smashed the place up.

I can understand why you'd do that
but why would your father?

I believe it was anger.

My whole life had been geared towards
doing great academic things.

When I could no longer stand the pressure and
dropped out of university, he was furious.

And then he goes further
and accuses you of smashing it up.

- Yeah.
- Because?

It's his way of finally destroying me for
not becoming what they wanted me to become.

Alex, tell Rose to play it
straight down the wicket.

We've all got to follow her first ball so...
we need her to make it half-decent, OK?

And who made you captain?

The Lord Chancellor. OK?

Stick Leo Wilson in a Man U kit

between Andy Cole and Dwight Yorke in a
Premiership thriller against the Gunners

at Old Trafford where he scores the winner
in injury time with an overhead kick

with Tony Adams' studs embedded in his
bollocks and he'd still be an arsehole.

Anyone defending Greens or Flecks?

Us two. Are you prosecuting?

All the way to prison. David Cliffe.

Tom Mitford, Alex Hay.

Half the Green team.
This is Billy Guthrie.

Nothing to do with us.
Just likes to loiter in male robing rooms.

A pony says
you don't get anywhere near prison.

A monkey says I will.

Did you read the statement
from my special constable?

Specials have all got a chip on their shoulder.
The real police think they're dilettante wankers.

- Chip away at the chip and they fall apart.
Except this one.

Intelligent, lucid,
articulate, reasonable.

- Reasonable?
- God.

Reasonable.

- God.
- Have fun.

I hate this part.

It's like waiting to go in for your exams.

I wouldn't have had you down
as the exam sort, Alan.

- Nine O Levels, me.
- Really?

Mum said it was all right to have a dream

but you need something to fall back on
in case it doesn't work out.

Luckily it did.

- Do you need to chat now?
- It's just a feeling, Billy.

A feeling? Right. Rose told me about these.
What are you seeing?

The father glaring at his son.

Making you think?

You must be white hot with anger to bring your
own flesh and blood to the brink of prison.

Except that's not an angry face.

- It's a hurt one.
- Hurt?

When I told my father I wasn't going
to practise law in Scotland in his shadow,

I got the same face.

- I probably still would.
- Probably?

We haven't spoken in five years.

He assumed I came south to get away
from his influence and his critical eye.

The trouble is, he was right.

Parents fuck you up.

In my case, especially my dad.

In Stephen Bennett's case, too, I suspect.

Case of Green and others
to Court No. 1.

Case of Bennett to Court No. 3.

The secret of a successful barrister,
Morag: Doobjectivity, do the law,

do not have a financial
adviser for a friend.

Good luck.

You smashed the flat up,
didn't you, Stephen?

- I...
- It's OK. I understand.

Tell me, Mr Bennett, why you bought
your son a flat in the first instance.

It was my wife's idea.
Her project, you might say.

Because he was special, like, at school.

She didn't want him worrying about rent
and room-mates and landlords and that.

So the flat was paid for out of what?

Well, she started off
with a small inheritance that she had.

Then she added to it
out of family savings.

She wanted him to have a place
where he could work in peace and quiet.

While he was at university?

That was everything to her.

And then what happened?

He dropped out of his... university
in his final year to drive a bus.

And how did you feel about that?

Well, my boy has an IQ of 165.

We put our lives into giving him everything
he needed to make the most of his gifts.

He wanted for nothing.

Him dropping out of
university like that was...

Let's just say it would have
killed his mother twice over.

How long? The fight?

Seconds.

- Less than ten?
- Yeah.

- A few seconds. Would that be fair?
- Yeah.

And you were 15 yards away?

Yeah.

- Scared?
- Yeah.

- Shocked?
- Very.

Who was the nearest to
you of the men fighting?

He was big and bald.

And blocking your view?

Some of the time.

- Half of the time?
- Yeah.

Half of a few seconds,
leaving one and a half seconds.

- When you did have a view, who was it?
- What?

Go ahead. Pick them out. Who was it?

They all look the same.
It was one of the four.

Scared, shocked, blocked.

You can't help us much,
can you, Mr Hocker?

About anything.

Brilliant.

Miss Stammers, you're what? 19, 20?

- 29.
- Really? Incredible.

The witness's age is relevant
precisely how, Mr Mitford?

As you so adroitly suspect, Your Honour,
the witness's age is not relevant per se,

I was illustrating the point
that in certain circumstances,

the eyes may be fooled
into making a perfectly innocent mistake.

But a mistake, nevertheless.

In this instance, a young woman for a teenager.
In another instance, a Green for a Fleck.

Well, enjoy your cross-examination,
but not too much.

Get on with it.

Mr Green, I've spent many years
studying every aspect of the law

to be able to sit here and engage in
mildly amusing banter with barristers

at the taxpayers' expense.

I need it. It breaks up a dull day.

Listening to your outburst doesn't.

Continue, Mr Mitford.

Thank you, Your Honour.

Miss Stammers, would you tell me whether your
spectacles are for long or short-sightedness?

Short.

So when you described
to the prosecution counsel who hit whom,

I am assuming that you must have been
in the very heart of the affray.

Not exactly. I was coming down the stairs.

The colour of my eyes, Miss Stammers?
What are they?

They're blue.

Unlucky, Miss Stammers.
They are in fact brown.

No more questions.

Special Constable Greaterix,

did you witness who started the fight
between the Greens and the Flecks?

- No, sir.
- Really?

The affray kicked off in an instant.

To have seen who initiated it

one would have had to been situated
at the flashpoint, which I was not.

But you did witness the
fight once it started?

Yes, I did, sir.

And how would you describe the violence
that you witnessed?

In the course of my duty as a special
constable, I've seen a lot of fights.

It's usually one person attacking and the
other trying to stop being attacked.

But in the heat of the moment
it's difficult to see who is doing which.

But what I could see
quite clearly that day

was Frank Green laying into all and sundry
with undisguised relish.

Bollocks!

How would you describe the way
that Frank Green defended himself?

It was beyond reasonable force.

- He's very reasonable.
- He's very reasonable.

- You've got to do him, Rose.
- No further questions, Your Honour.

Do you enjoy your work as a special
constable, Special Constable?

I find serving the community
very rewarding, yes.

Could you not have found an equally
rewarding way of serving the community

that didn't involve
dressing up in a uniform?

The uniform is by the bye.

Oh, really, Mr Greaterix?

Are you telling me you don't get a frisson
when you buckle your belt

and don your special helmet
before going on duty?

Anyone who would work as a special
constable for the uniform is a fool.

- For the power, then?
- No.

It must be something, Special Constable.

After all, it's not for the money.
You don't get paid, do you?

Only expenses. I find serving
the community very rewarding.

- But you're not a lawyer.
- No.

Reasonable force.

The concept of what is and is not reasonable
force is a legal one and not in your province.

- I know about it.
- Really?

- From experience.
- Of?

- Courts and...
- And, Mr Greaterix?

I did a law degree.

And ended up a special constable?

- It's what I do.
- What did you want to be, Mr Greaterix?

- I wanted to be...
- Yes?

- You. A barrister.
- What happened?

- I failed my bar exams.
- And this is the next best thing?

You'll be damned if you're going to let
somebody

who in a fairer world would be you
get the better of you.

I think I'm right. I think you're wrong.

And I think men with great big fat chips
on their shoulders are not to be trusted.

That's what I think.

I saw what I saw.

The ones with hair seemed to be giving out
a lot more, and Frank Green the most.

You wouldn't budge
if the whole world disagreed?

- No.
- Bollocks!

One more time, Mr Green, and you'll spend
the rest of the trial downstairs.

- It wasn't enough.
- It might be enough.

He's drawn a line between the families.
The jury have something to get their teeth into.

The scary bundle have become
a set of individuals.

- Who is David Cliffe?
- Marlowe's been after him for months.

- We might owe him a monkey after all.
- A what?

I pick up big words and throw them around.

- Shit, shit, shit.
- Like Alex. He's my word mentor.

- He wants to talk.
- Alan?

- Alan.
- That was a good witness.

That was a very good witness.

- Stay clever, Stevie.
- You, too.

Always.

I think it's a mistake.

I think you're panicking unduly.
I think we should stick to Plan A.

We've been thinking, as the aggressor,

we either change tack or sink like stones.

You could go cut-throat,
give evidence against the Flecks.

Then they give evidence against us
and we're back in this room

having exactly the same conversation.

Which is why we're going to do Plan B.

Plan B?

- Sacrifice.
Sacrifice? Very Greek.

I like it.
To appease the gods, sort of thing?

Not to mention the West Yorkshire CID.

- So what's the sacrifice?
- Not what, Stevie.

Who?

Frank.

If he hadn't wound up Harry,
we wouldn't be sat here.

He thinks he's bigger than the family.
He's an embarrassment.

Shouting out in court,
mouthing off left, right and centre.

Where's the dignity?

Setting Frank aside for a year or so
is best all round.

He gets a dose of humility,
I can concentrate on the business,

and the Flecks get toowe us big time.

You go and brief our team.
I just want to mess with Marlowe's mind.

Not the whole story,
just enough to get Plan B up and running.

There's a temptation.

- Yeah?
- To get noisy, now the pressure's on.

For the Greens to start cutting the
throats of the Flecks in there.

And for the Flecks to do the same.

Vice versa.

But I think we can stay grown up.

- How do we do that, Peter?
- Trust me.

Tell the family Fleck to stay friendly.

The Greens will not cut-throat the Flecks.

And I take that from you?

You're the spokesman all of a sudden?

I'm on the inside. I'm next to Alan.
I'm his new brother.

- I've got it, too.
- What?

- The sense of unease.
- Read my lips.

No cut-throat.

The other thing about Jesus
was he always had a back-up plan

if the first plan wasn't looking great.

Did he? I never heard
about Jesus and his Plan Bs.

- That's cos he always had one.
- What?

Plan A goes wrong,
there's always Plan B.

Noone remembers Plan A on account of it
being abandoned before it failed.

Timing. He had great
timing, the son of God.

He knew when to go from A to B.

What's our Plan B?

If a defendant goes
into the witness box...

- Yeah.
...and he's got previous convictions,

his previous gets told to the jury if his brief
has already called a prosecution witness a liar.

Right.

Rose is putting Frank Green in the box.

Why? His previous will go in, won't it?

- Yup.
- And that's bad, isn't it?

He'll go sailing down.

What kind of plan is that?

Sacrifice.

Frank gets potted, the rest won't.
The rest of the Greens will walk.

- And the Flecks?
- They'll walk, too.

- We don't like the Flecks, do we?
- Crime's the winner, Bob.

If Frank goes down, everyone else
is out there doing organised crime.

And crime is why we're here.

Crime is us, Bob.
Crime is us. Never forget that.

Don't tell Rose about all this.

She'll get all narrow-minded
if she knows we're shafting her client.

Don't tell any of the briefs.
Best that way.

I say we all put our clients
in the witness box.

Confuse the jury
with eight contradictory accounts.

If our boys go in, you know what happens.

They'll come across
as the mad bastards that they are.

- Their form goes in.
- Rose called Greaterix a liar.

- Ergo.
- Er-bloody-go.

The prosecution are entitled to question
the character of our mad bastards.

Nine pages of form between them.

- All of it for violence or dishonesty.
- End of trial, you go down.

The Greens are going in, all four.
That's from the horse's mouth.

- Even though?
- Even though.

We can still win.

Members of the jury, so what
if my client is a convicted armed robber?

So what if he hurts people a lot,
nearly all the time?

- Where's Alex?
- Alex?

OK, then, where's Zara?

Thank you very much, Miss Image.

You're welcome.

- Oh, you've got computer games.
- Yes, relaxation tool.

Marlowe would never
allow that in chambers.

Shagging on desks, virtual reality.
Peter McLeish is very progressive.

You wouldn't have change for a pound,
would you?

- Oh, it's you.
- Mr Bennett.

I...

Yes. Yes, I think I do.

Not used to so much
talking in one go, like.

- Throat's parched.
- I know what you mean.

Thanks.

I know why you're angry
at Stephen, Mr Bennett.

Is that right?

And I just wanted to say
that while I understand it,

I can't help but wonder if it's not
blinding you to the possibility

that by the end of today
your son could be in prison.

And I also can't help but wonder
how your wife would have reacted to that.

No, this is right.
I'm going to put Harry Fleck down.

I'm good in the box. I am razor-sharp.

And my advice to you on this is, don't.

- What sort of advice is that?
- Good, clever, sensible advice.

You go into the box, you
tell the truth calmly.

Jurors like calm.
They equate it with honesty.

And with your reputation
at least we can aim for sincerity.

Yeah, yeah. Whatever.

Did you hit Harry Fleck first
or did he hit you first?

- He hit me first.
- And then you punched him back?

Nobody hits Frank Green twice
without replying.

- They're going cut-throat...
- Patience.

So you punched Harry Fleck hard
to prevent him from punching you hard

in the belief that only a
hard punch to his face

would be sufficient defence
to his continual punching of yours?

The way I work it, I just keep punching
until the other guy stops.

I don't suppose working through
your feelings of mutual antipathy

over a frothy cappuccino ever arises,
does it, Mr Green?

Cappuccino's for faggots, Your Honour.

Thank you, Mr Green.

No more questions, Your Honour.

Mr Green, what would your response be
to the argument

that the most effective form of
self-defence is to run away?

Where I come from,
chickens get plucked and roasted.

So you stand and fight.

If there's a job to do, you do it.
Don't you?

And on the day in question,
what did you perceive the job to be?

Teaching Harry Fleck not to be so stupid.

- Not to be so stupid as to hit you?
- Yeah.

So the job wasn't simply
to stop him from hitting you

but to teach him that to hit you then
or any time in the future was stupid?

I smacked his arse.

Lesson taught.

I'm a good teacher.

It's not the first lesson of this nature
that you've taught, is it, Mr Green?

Here we go.

So you bought your son a lovely flat
because he's at university.

He lives there for two and a half years,
struggling with an environment he hates.

And when he finally cannot take any more

and drops out before his finals,
you take the flat away.

The flat went with the study.

But it was originally a gift to your son.

- It was.
- And that's your understanding of a gift?

Something given with conditions, enabling
you to reclaim it whenever you feel like?

Do you think your wife shared your
understanding of what a gift is, Mr Bennett?

What?

I was just wondering the extent to which your
dearly departed wife shared your view of things.

How she would have regarded your son
being rendered homeless by your actions,

what she would have thought
about her gifted, sensitive son

spending a day,
let alone several months, in prison.

That's not fair.
Stephen's always been different from us.

I've always tried to understand him.

- But like I said to you during lunch break...
- Yes, absolutely.

- My next question concerns the nature of...
- Stop right there, Miss Black.

Like you said to Miss Black
during the lunch break, Mr Bennett?

Yes, Your Honour.

During lunch I wanted a tea
cos my throat was dry.

I asked her if she had change.

- And did she?
- Yeah.

Very helpful, she was.

And finally, on 15th of July, 1998,

you were imprisoned for six months for
causing actual bodily harm, were you not?

- So what?
- Did you plead guilty that time round?

No.

- Did you go into the witness box?
- Yes.

So the jury didn't believe you?

- That time round?
- So?

- So?
- So you may return to your seat.

If you've finished.

And on we go.

Miss Black, have I got this right?

You had a conversation with the witness
for the prosecution during lunch?

It was a spur-of-the-moment impulse.

However hurt and disappointed he may be with
Stephen for dropping out of university,

I honestly felt he didn't want
to see his own son go to prison.

You had a conversation with the witness
for the prosecution during lunch?

It just sort of happened.

- Your Honour...
- Sit down and shut up.

Yes, Your Honour.

After all we did for you.
- Silence.

All you did for me.

- Never with me.
- Silence.

You put me in a cage
and fed and watered me

and gave me everything I needed in order to
perform for you like the circus freak I'd become.

You were so different from us,
we didn't know what to do.

- We did what we thought was best.
- I said silence!

I will not have my courtroom
turned into an emotional free-for-all.

Miss Black, you have committed possibly
career-threatening contempt of court.

You will be taken to the cells while I
decide what course of action I now pursue.

Get her out of my sight before I forget my
office and say something I am likely to regret.

Put your hand down, sonny.
Or you'll be joining them.

Miss de Souza,
does your client wish to give evidence?

- He does, Your Honour.
- He does not, Your Honour.

- I do not wish to give evidence.
- What do you mean?

- Eh? What do you mean?
Sit down, Mr Green.

Mr Hay?

- What's going on?
- It appears not, Your Honour.

You should trust more, Michael.

The plot appears
to be thickening around you, Mr Green.

Mr Mitford?

No, Your Honour.

And so to the Flecks.
In the interest of time, gentlemen,

could you all respond as one?

I thought we were going in together.

Would somebody mind telling me
what the fuck is going on?

- Eh?
- Would be nice.

Frank Green has been sacrificed
for the greater good of everyone else.

Morag's been taken down for contempt of court.
Where's McLeish?

Watching the Green case.
What do you mean?

She spoke to a prosecution witness
with a view to having him drop a charge.

Hold the bloody fort, Bob.

- You get McLeish. I'll go and see Morag.
- You get McLeish and I'll see Morag.

- He's your clerk.
- Yeah, and she's my girlfriend.

You heard.

Do you find the defendant, Frank Green,
guilty or not guilty?

Guilty.

I don't believe this.

Do you find the defendant Alan Green
guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

Sacrificing his little brother
to safeguard the family business!

You might not admire him
but you gotta admire his discipline.

- Do you find the defendant Jimmy...
- McLeish knew all along.

He bloody well knew all along.

Someone to see you, Miss.

Johnny Boy!

McLeish is on his way. Are you all right?

- I can't believe I was so stupid.
- Neither can I.

I've just had to grovel to Judge Styles
to get you out.

One of my least favourite hobbies.

The dad withdrew the charge.
Your case just collapsed.

But that's not all the shit to hit the fan.
I want to see you in my office in ten minutes.

You come with me.

Look on the good side.
You lost the battle but won the war.

By McLeish's tone, it sounds like
I've lost more than one battle.

- I can't help but feel responsible.
- You?

I made Sanju give you back the case.

- What do you mean?
- I rang him and told him I wouldn't do it.

I regret it now, of course.

Sorry.

I can't stop you, Johnny Boy,
but I'll tell you where it's going to lead

if you don't put your pistol back in
its holster and start using your head.

Back to your plumbing apprenticeship.

Your choice.

I mean, Peter's too close to them.
Don't you see?

Where do the Greens stop
and Peter McLeish start? I don't know.

- You stepped way over the line this time.
You were dynamite.

You were strategically deployed
for the required explosion.

Warm, is it, inside Alan Green's pocket?

You're always whining about the Greens.
What do you care if they stiff their own?

I don't. They can feast on each other
until there's nothing left but the stench.

But I will not be made to look a fool
in the defence of my own client.

Go after her.

Take her to the bar, get her pissed,
let her get it out of her system.

You did well today. You did brilliant.

I'm proud to call myself your clerk.

- They look happy.
- Business as usual.

War's over.

- Where's Alex?
- Um...

In chambers, chatting to Zara Image.

Thanks.

What is wrong with you?

What?

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid
and very, very lucky.

You think you did good? You didn't.
Good happened in spite of you.

- You got that?
- Yes.

Pupils who get banged up
for contempt of court

don't enhance their chances
of getting a place in chambers.

- I know.
- It ain't about what the heart feels.

It's about what the head thinks.

They pay you for your skill,
not your fucked-up empathy.

- I'm sorry.
- Good.

Get out of my sight and think hard
about where you want to be in five years.

Bob.

Yorkshire Post.

Young, very attractive pupil barrister
from the chambers of Peter McLeish

locked up for fighting her corner.

Front page. Ring 'em now.

Morag. Wait!

Not Morag. Miss Black to you.

What did he say?
He can't tell us who we can see.

He didn't.

Next time you think you can get your leg
over by stealing someone else's credit,

knock on someone else's door,
there's a good boy.

Hello.

Do you know what I thought?

Yes.

Do you know what I'm thinking?

Yes.

- Do you agree?
- I think it's for the best.

Yeah, so do I.

Enjoy your game, Alex.

Reset?

Nothing I bring here from now on
goes to Alex Hay. Understood?

- If you insist.
- Most insistent.

- But otherwise happy?
- I'm a fool for love, not business.

- He's an infant. I need a grown-up.
- They're all infants.

They pull their shit. I make a scary face.
They do what they're told.

Alan Green seems happy
with the way things went.

Well, let's hope he spreads the good news.

We did it, just.

Just is good enough for me.

See you later.

I heard you had an interesting day.

You could say that. Too interesting.

Those are the ones you remember the most.

Here's to your first contempt of court,
Morag Black.

To my first contempt of court.

Stunning.

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