All language subtitles for Rumpole s02e03 Folk.eng

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(Indistinct chatter)

(Man) Puss! Puss! Come on, puss.

Good boy, puss.
You're not coming in.

Come on, get it eaten.
Get it eaten. It's good for you.

Well, well, well. Come on. Come on.

(Man and woman quarrelling)

(Woman) Oh, did you really?

Leave me alone!

(Quarrelling continues)

(Woman) You'll have to wear
the paper bag. You never could.

(Man) I enjoy swanning around...

You spend more energy on...

(Gunfire)

(Glass smashing)

(Cat meows)

(Gunfire)

(Huffs, puffs)

(Sobs)

(Sobs) I killed him.
What could I do with him? Help me.

(Sobs)

(Angrily) "'I killed him.
What could I do with him?

"'Help me."

'Or...

(Desperately) "I killed him.

"'What could I do with him?
Help me!"'

(Hollers) Grimble. Grimble Central!

"I killed him.

"What could I do with him?

"Help me."

(Porter hollers) Grimble!
Grimble Central!

Grimble! Grimble Central!

Grimble!
Grimble Central!

Grimble! Grimble Central!

All change for Alaska,
Archangel, Greenland

and all points north.

"The air bites shrewdly.

"It's very cold.
It is a nipping and an eager air..."

(Hollers) Mr Rumpole!

"'Tis bitter cold,
and I am sick at heart."

- Albert!
- Mr Rumpole, how are you, sir?

- My dear clerk, Albert Handyside!
- Let me take your case.

Thank you.

(Shivers) Oh...

I promised to bring you up here.
First murder we had going.

It's not exactly
the Penge bungalow job, sir,

but it's a decent little case.

"Worth the detour,"
as they say at Michelin?

(Laughing)

(AIbert) It's a... lady client, sir.

- Oh?
- One of the show folk.

One of the show folk?

Yes, I'd definitely say
worth the detour.

(Laughing)

You've bettered yourself.
Working for solicitors.

And in the north of England.

How are things down south, sir?

Ah, down south, much as usual.

Barristers lounging in the sun,

munching grapes

to the lazy sound of plucked guitars.

(Laughs)

Thank you.

Hotel or the prison first?

The prison first.
I'll feel more at home.

(AIbert) First, I'm taking you home
for a decent tea.

(Rumpole) Oh, splendid.

(AIbert)
I told my senior partner, sir,

"Mr Rumpole's capable
of doing this on his own."

Reminded him, did you?

I did the Penge
bungalow murders alone.

That's what I told him.
My partner seemed to feel...

Yes, I understand, Albert.
I'm not a QC.

I'm not on
the Lord Chancellor's guest list.

I'm never invited to breakfast
in knee breeches.

Always the bridesmaid,
never the bride.

I'm not so much Rumpole, QC
as Rumpole queer customer.

It's a murder case, sir.
It's caused a bit of local interest.

(Rumpole) Yes, of course. Silk goes
with murder, like steak goes with kidney.

This Jarvis Allen, QC,
a competent sort of fellow, is he?

(AIbert) I've only seen him on the bench.

Your learned leader
sits as a recorder here, sir.

He sent a tearaway
up for three years

for a punch-up
at the football ground.

There's no particular art involved
in getting people into prison.

What's he like at keeping them out?

Thank you.

(Man) You remember nothing.

(AIbert) The shock, Mr Allen,
wiped out all recollection.

- Mrs Frere...
- She's known as Maggie Hartley, sir.

She'd better be known
as Mrs Frere in court.

Now, Mrs Frere,
Tommy Pierce is prosecuting.

I know him well.

If we went to see the judge -
Skelton's perfectly reasonable -

I think there's a sporting chance -
I make no promises, mind -

that they might let us
plead to manslaughter.

(Rumpole) 'A remarkable talent
for getting people locked up.'

We will have to accept manslaughter.
I'm sure Mr Rumpole agrees with me.

You do agree, don't you, Rumpole?

Better to do ten years
for manslaughter than murder.

Is that the choice you're offering?

I don't know if you've read the evidence

but our client was found with a gun
in her hand.

Stupid place to have it,
if she was planning a murder.

All the same,
it leaves us without a defence!

Really? Do you think so?

I was looking at that statement

of Alan Copeland.

- Known as the juvenile, I believe.
- Yes.

"I've worked with GP Frere
for three seasons.

"GP drank a good deal. Always
interested in some girl in the cast.

"A new one every year."

Jealousy might be a motive
for our client.

- That's a two-edged sword, Rumpole.
- Two-edged, yes. Most swords are.

"He quarrelled violently
with his wife.

"On one occasion,
after a dress rehearsal,

"he threw a glass of milk stout
in her face in front of the company."

(Mr Allen) She's had
a good deal of provocation.

That only reduces it to manslaughter!

What you want in a murder
is an unlikeable corpse.

Then, with a likeable defendant, it's easy!

Why, who knows, we might even reduce
the crime to innocence.

I've had to tell
Mrs Frere very frankly,

there is a clear admission of guilt,
which is not disputed.

- She said that to the doorman. Mr...
- (AIbert) Mr Croft.

"I killed him.
What could I do with him? Help me."

- You've read that at least?
- I've read it. That's the trouble.

- What do you mean?
- I read it, but I didn't hear it.

None of us did.

I daresay Mr Croft didn't have
it spelled out to him.

Really, Rumpole. I suppose they make
jokes about murder cases in London.

But what if our client said,

(Desperately) "I killed him.
What could I do with him? Help me"?

- That's the reading.
- What?

Of the line. Tell them that.

Ah, my dear lady,

I'm afraid I'm hardly in a position
to tell them anything.

Who am I but the ageing juvenile?

The reading of the line will have
to come from your leading man.

In this case, your leading counsel,
Mr Jarvis Allen, QC.

(Car breaks)

(Car doors closing)

(Rumpole)
Look, Albert, the scene of the crime.

You can always learn something
from the locus in quo.

We should have asked Mr Allen along.

Oh, he's only interested in
doing deals with the learned judge.

- Mr Derwent is at the front of house.
- Yes.

Go through that back door.
I'll put the light on.

Thank you.

(Clanging)

"Can this cockpit hold

"The vasty fields of France?

"Or may we cram

"Within this wooden O

"The very casques

"That did affright the air
at Agincourt?

"Oh, pardon!"

(Man hollers) Who is it?

(Rumpole hollers) Oh, pardon me.
The name's Rumpole. We telephoned.

(Man) Down here.
I'm in the stalls' bar.

(AIbert) Mr Derwent. I believe you're in
charge of the Frere-Hartley Players.

(Derwent) What's left of them.
Decimated, that's what we've been.

If you've come with a two-hander
for untalented juveniles,

I'd be delighted to put it on.

- You are in the business?
- Business?

- Show business. The profession.
- Another profession all together.

But not quite as old as yours.

Oh, only our old manager

left us in a state
of total chaos here.

They can't hear of an actor
shot dead in Grimble.

Half the character men in "Spotlight"
are on to me for a job,

but nothing will be decided
till after Maggie's trial.

We're not reopening till then...
What other profession?

- We're lawyers, Mr Derwent.
- Oh, Maggie's case?

My name's Handyside
of Instructing Solicitors.

This is Mr Rumpole from London
for the defence.

A London barrister in the sticks!

Grimble is hardly
a number one touring date.

I suppose murder
is a draw anywhere, isn't it?

- Would you care for a tiny rum?
- Yes, thank you.

- With orange or as she comes?
- As she comes.

I always take a tiny rum
for the vocal chords.

We depend on the chords
in our professions, don't we?

- Mr...
- Handyside.

I'll have a light ale. Thanks.

We wanted to get an idea
of the geography of the place.

The money we've turned away tonight.
You wouldn't believe it.

- You can't buy publicity like it.
- I suppose not.

All we got
in the "Grimble Argus" was,

"Maggie Hartley took her part well."

Now we're all over the front-page,
and we can't play. It breaks your heart.

Poor old GP.

Well, at least he's sober tonight,
wherever he is.

Was the late GP Frere...

Well, not that
his performance suffered.

He didn't act any worse when drunk.

What I admired about GP
was his selfless concern for others.

He never left you
with the sole responsibility

of entertaining the audience.

You know he'd always try and help
by upstaging you,

or moving on your laugh line.

He once tore up a newspaper

all through my long speech
in "Waiting for Godot".

You wouldn't do that, Mr Rumpole.
Not in anyone's long speech.

Well, of course not.

Ah, Miss Christine Hope.

Miss Hopeless I called her.

God knows what GP saw in her.

She did that audition speech
from "St Joan".

All breathless and excited,

as if she'd run up
four flights of stairs,

because angel voices were calling her
about a part in "Crossroads."

"Oh, we could do something with her,"
old GP said.

I told him, "Burn her at the stake."

(AIbert) Mr Rumpole.
(Rumpole) Yes?

- Our client.
- (Rumpole) Ah.

(Derwent) Your client.
My leading lady.

I suppose both our shows
depend on her.

No doubt about it, though.
She is good.

Maggie is good.

There's a quality, you know.
Perfect truthfulness.

Absolute reality.

(AIbert) Truthfulness?
(Derwent) It is very rare.

(AIbert) Would you say that in court?
(Derwent) Is that why you came here?

(Rumpole) No. We'd like to see
the scene of the crime.

(Broken glass smashes)

- Any help to you?
- It might be.

It's what we call the locus in quo.

Do you really?
How frightfully camp of you!

It's what we actors
call a dressing room.

They don't live in the real world.

It's all make-believe for them.
Dressing up in fancy costumes.

(Judge) Dressing up?

Yes, I suppose so.

You don't think she appreciates
the seriousness?

(Mr Allen) I'm afraid not, Judge.

If she wants to sack me...

It puts Rumpole
in an embarrassing position.

- Are you embarrassed, Rumpole?
- Yes, Judge. Dreadfully embarrassed.

Still, she wants to be represented
by her junior counsel.

- Very embarrassing for you both.
- Yes.

Does she give any reason
for dispensing with her leading counsel?

She said...
I can remember her exact words.

She thought Rumpole
would be better casting.

Better casting?
Whatever can she mean by that?

- Better in the part.
- Oh, dear.

- Is she very actressy?
- She's an actress.

Yes. Yes, I suppose she is.

Any views about this, Tommy?

No, Judge. When Jarvis was instructed,
we were going to plea to manslaughter.

Manslaughter, eh?

Do you want to discuss manslaughter,
Rumpole?

No, Judge.

You can certainly have
an adjournment.

Your client may want
to think about manslaughter,

or consider another leader.

She should have leading counsel,
in a case of this seriousness.

I think we can dispense
with the adjournment.

I don't see any point in
looking for another leading counsel.

You don't?

I don't think anyone else
would get the part.

- I take an extremely dim view of this.
- Really?

- An extremely dim view.
- Yes.

On this circuit,
we are loyal to our members.

- A local custom?
- It is.

I can't think of anyone
carrying on with a case,

after his leader had been sacked.
It's not in the best traditions of the Bar.

A loyalty to one's leader
is extremely important,

but one mustn't forget
the other legal maxim.

- What's that?
- "The show must go on."

Look at the time!
I've got a number of things to do.

- Mr Rumpole?
- Yes?

- Did the judge grant it?
- What?

An adjournment.
So we can get another leader.

My senior partner was keen
we should get an adjournment.

I'm afraid
he's going to be disappointed.

I pleaded with Judge, Albert,
but would he grant me an adjournment?

"No, Rumpole," he said.
"The show must go on."

Cheer up, old darling.

- Just say one thing to your partner.
- What's that?

Just say, "Penge bungalow murders."

I don't know if any of you,
ladies and gentlemen,

will have actually attended
performances at the Theatre Royal.

We'll all have passed it
in a trolley bus

on the way to the football ground.

Maybe there aren't many dedicated
theatricals among your number.

Perhaps your idea of relaxation,
after a hard day's work,

is the telly
and a pint of Grimble ale, but...

(Rumpole) 'Oh, dear, the comic.

'The Rob Wilton
of the north-western circuit.'

...Past the Snailsham roundabout,

opposite the Old Britannia Hotel,

where we've all celebrated
many a win by Grimble United.

(Rumpole) 'Why don't you just tell them?

'The prisoner is represented
by Rumpole of the Bailey,

'a smart-alecky lawyer from London,

'who's never even heard
of Grimble United,

'let alone the Old Britannia Hotel.'

...Of wilful murder.

In this case, members of the Jury
we enter a different world.

Alien to most of us -
the world of the show folk.

They live a strange life,
you may think.

A life of make-believe.

On the surface
everyone loves everybody.

"You were wonderful,"
said to men and women alike.

(Rumpole) 'Shall Rumpole heave himself
to his hind legs and protest?

'No. Rumpole shall sit still,

'and assume
a look of bored indifference.'

But underneath
all the good companionship

run deep tides
of jealousy and passion,

which welled up,
in this particular case,

into brutal and, say the Crown,
quite cold-blooded murder.

(Rumpole) 'Murder is a draw.

'That gnome in the theatre
was perfectly right.

'The judge's wife is here,
Lady Skelton.

'Front row of the stalls,

'in her special "matinee" hat.

'Sheriff of the county
in fancy dress.

'Mrs Sheriff of the county.

'Oh, dear me,
she's forgotten her opera glasses.

'And the star of the show, my client.

'Looking as I told her to look.
Ordinary.'

This is not a case which depends
on complicated evidence,

or points of law.

It simply amounts to this...

the murder weapon, a revolver,

was found in the defendant's hand,

as she stood over
her husband's dead body.

A bullet from that weapon

penetrated the sternum
and entered the heart.

The defendant, as you will see

on your abstract of indictment,

is charged as Margaret Frere.

She preferred to be known
by her maiden name.

That may give you some idea

of this woman's attitude
to her husband of 20 years,

the deceased, in this case,

the late Gerald Patrick Frere.

(Mr Croft) They both were shouting.
(Pierce) Then?

- (Mr Croft) I heard a second shot.
- Did you go into the room?

It was a right mess.

Glass broken. Blood.
He was sprawled in his chair.

I thought he was drunk.

She had this pistol, like,
in her hand, and she said...

- Can you remember what she said?
- Not too fast.

Just follow His Lordship's pencil.

She said..."'I killed him.

"What could...

..."I do... with him?"

What did you understand that to mean?

It is not what this witness understood,

it is what the jury
understands it to mean.

The witness was there!
He could form his own conclusions!

Please, gentlemen,
let's try and have no disagreements.

At least not before luncheon.

I think Mr Croft
may answer the question.

I understood that she was fed up
with him and didn't know what else to do.

- But to kill him?
- Yes, My Lord.

Did she say anything else
that you remember?

- I think she said, "Help me."
- Yes.

Just wait there, will you,

in case Mr Rumpole
has some questions.

Yes, just a few.

When you saw the deceased in
his chair, you thought he was drunk?

- (Mr Croft) Yes.
- Had you seen him like this

in his dressing room, drunk,
on many occasions?

- A few.
- Quite a few.

Yes.

After performances
he would drink in his dressing room?

- Some nights.
- Most nights.

Well, yes.

- Most nights he would be drunk?
- Some nights.

I can quite understand
that loyalty to your late employer

prompts this hair splitting.

Were there some nights
when he wasn't drunk?

Did he ever celebrate
with an evening of sobriety?

- My Lord...
- When you went into the room,

the deceased was nearest to the door?

- Yes.
- Two or three feet away.

That's all.

- My client was in the room?
- Yes.

- Holding a gun?
- He's told us that.

(Rumpole) Also, there was
a cheval mirror and it was broken?

Yes.

And that mirror
was at the far end of the room?

Yes.

To have fired the shot
that broke that mirror,

my client would have had to fire
in the opposite direction.

The jury decide that.

The witness was there.
He can form his own conclusions.

- What's the answer?
- I suppose she would.

- You suppose she would.
- Wouldn't that depend, Mr Rumpole,

on where the deceased was

at the time that particular shot was fired?

Exactly.

As Your Lordship pleases.

Let us turn to what was said
when you went in the room.

- I can remember that perfectly.
- The words, perhaps,

but it's the reading that matters.

- The what, Mr Rumpole?
- The stress, My Lord. The intonation.

It's an expression
used in show business.

Perhaps we should confine ourselves
to expressions used in law courts.

Certainly, My Lord.

She said she had killed him.

And then...

- "What could I do with him? Help me."
- Yes.

Meaning, what could she do with
the dead body and asking for help?

- My Lord, surely...
- He was there!

She didn't mean that she had killed him

because she didn't know
what else to do with him.

Well, Mr Croft, what's the answer?
Did she?

I can't be sure how she said it.

- What a perf, Mr Rumpole!
- What?

Your performance. A knockout.

Oh, really? Thank you very much.

I admired your timing.
The pause before cross-examining.

- The pause?
- You took a beat of nine.

- Nine?
- Seconds.

- Did I? Did I really?
- Mmm. Built up the tension.

I can see what you were after.

You must let me know
if you ever want a job in rep.

Yes.

(Whispers) Two, three, four.

- Any questions, Mr Rumpole?
- (Mutters) It's the timing, the pause.

(Whispers) Seven, eight, nine. Now!

Now, Mr Alan Copeland...

Do you know where the deceased
got the revolver?

He was in a spy film.
It was one of the props. He bought it.

It was more than scenery.
It was a real revolver.

- Unfortunately, yes.
- Did he have a licence?

Oh, yes. He joined
the Grimble Rifle and Pistol Club.

I think he fancied himself
as James Bond.

As James who?

(Rumpole) 'The old sweetheart
knows perfectly well.

'He's just giving his much-Ioved
performance of judicial ignorance.'

A character in fiction, My Lord.
A person licensed to kill.

He also spends a great deal of time
sleeping with air hostesses.

(Laughing)

Mr Rumpole, we have quite enough
to do in this case,

dealing with questions of fact.

I suggest we leave the world of fiction

outside with our overcoats.

(Rumpole) I entirely agree
with Your Lordship's suggestion.

- Where did Frere keep his revolver?
- Usually at the Rifle Club.

Usually?

He asked me to bring it back
to the theatre.

- You?
- I'm a member, too.

Oh, really, Mr Copeland?

- What's your weapon?
- A shotgun. I shoot clay pigeons.

Did Frere say why he wanted his gun
brought back to the theatre?

There'd been some burglaries. I imagine
he wanted to scare any intruders.

You had no idea
he had ammunition in the theatre?

- No, sir. I had no idea.
- Now... you have spoken of quarrels

between Frere and his wife.

- Yes, sir.
- Once, in front of the company,

he threw a glass of milk stout
into her face.

That was after a rehearsal
of "The Master Builder."

- "The Master..." what, Mr Rumpole?
- Builder, My Lord.

Yes. That would be Henrik Ibsen,
would it not?

- (Mutters) Henrik Ibsen?
- Certainly, My Lord.

During their quarrels did you
ever know my client to retaliate?

No, sir. Never.

- May I say something, My Lord?
- Certainly, Mr Copeland.

Miss Hartley, as we know her,

is an exceptionally gentle person.

Thank you, Mr Copeland.

- You said you shoot clay pigeons.
- Yes.

Nothing much to eat
on a clay pigeon, I suppose.

(Rumpole) 'Oh, dear. Local comic
dies the death in Grimble.'

Did his wife know
about the pistol back in the theatre?

I didn't tell her.

(Rumpole) 'Pierce,
was that a wise question? '

Why didn't you tell her?

I thought it would have made
her nervous.

Nervous of what?

(Rumpole) 'Careful. Never re-examine
unless you're sure of the answers.'

Well, I was always afraid GP
would get drunk

and loose it off at someone.

(Rumpole) 'Oh, excellent witness
for the prosecution.'

This was the revolver you removed
from the scene of the crime?

It is.

- It had many fingerprints on it.
- It had your client's fingerprints.

And those of the deceased.

- Yes, but I...
- "Yes" is enough.

- Let him answer.
- What do you understand, Inspector?

Mr Frere used the pistol
at the shooting range.

(Judge) Exactly.

- So, two chambers had been fired?
- Yes.

One bullet in the mirror,
and another in Frere.

That is so.

If the person who fired the
first shot pulled back the hammer

to fire a second shot,
the revolver now will go off

with a much lighter pressure
on the trigger.

- That is so.
- Yes. Thank you, Inspector.

Inspector, whether the hammer
was pulled back or not,

a woman would have no difficulty
in firing this pistol.

- Certainly not, sir.
- Yes.

- Thank you, Inspector.
- Sir.

(Rumpole)
You say you heard voices shouting?

(Woman) I heard GP, yes.

- Did you hear my client's voice?
- I can't be sure.

Miss Hope, why were you waiting
at the stage door?

Somehow I can never bear to leave.

After the show is over,
I can never bear to go.

I suppose just I love the theatre.

Or did you just love GP Frere?

You always waited for him
at the stage door.

He left his wife there
and took you home.

- Sometimes he took me home.
- Why?

It was late. I couldn't always get a bus,
so he walked me home. It wasn't far.

- And went into your lodgings?
- Just to say goodnight.

Did those "goodnights"
sometimes last till morning?

We used to talk sometimes.
Quite late. About the theatre.

Ah, yes, it's a fascinating subject,
Miss Hope, the theatre.

Oh, yes, terribly fascinating.

Gave you two plenty to talk about
until six o'clock in the morning, did it?

We weren't talking all that time, no.

But he frequently stayed with you
until six o'clock in the morning?

(Mutters) Sometimes.

You're dropping your voice,
Miss Hope.

Sometimes, My Lord.

When you heard
Mr and Mrs Frere quarrelling

do you think they were quarrelling
about you?

It's possible.

(Yells) Because GP Frere
was your lover, was he not?

Do I have to answer that question,
My Lord?

No, not really, Miss Hope.
I won't insist.

There, you can remember
all sorts of things when you try.

Perhaps...
when I have a sympathetic counsel.

I can't work with anyone hostile.

That dress is absolutely right.

I'd hoped you'd think so.

I wore it in "Time and the Conways".

Now listen to the questions.
Give short answers.

Every word to the comedian
is giving him a present.

Just stick to the facts. Not a word
of criticism about the departed.

You want them to like me?

They won't find that very difficult.

- Do I have to swear on the Bible?
- It's customary.

- I'd rather affirm.
- Don't you believe in God?

I suppose he's a possibility.

He just doesn't seem to be a frequent
visitor to the East Grimble rep.

I know a Grimble jury. Look,
if you could swear on the Bible...

- The audience would like it?
- The jury.

They're not too keen
on agnostic actresses.

Is that your opinion?

Well, that puts it in a nutshell.

All right in the West End, is that it?
No good in Grimble.

I want you to be yourself.

No, you don't. You don't want me
to be myself at all.

You want me to be
an north-country housewife,

spending an ordinary day
on trial for murder.

Naturally, you're nervous.

Well...

Time to go.

I'm sick to the stomach
every time I go on.

- Good luck.
- Never say "good luck".

It's bad luck to say "good luck".

(Maggie) He said he loved Christine.

- (Rumpole) With Miss Hope?
- Christine Hope.

He wanted her to play Amanda.

(Rumpole) The leading lady.
Then what was to become of you?

He wanted me to leave, go to London.

He never wanted to see me again.

What did you say?

I said I was terribly unhappy
about Christine, naturally.

Yes.

Would you tell the jury
what happened next?

He said he was going
to get rid of me.

He opened the door
of the dressing table.

- Was he standing, then?
- I would say staggering.

Yes, and then?

- He took out the revolver.
- Yes.

This one?

I... I think so.

- What was its effect on you?
- I was terrified.

- Did you know it was there?
- No. I had no idea.

And then?

He seemed to be getting ready
to fire the gun.

- You mean he was pulling back...
- My Lord.

- Yes, please don't lead, Mr Rumpole.
- My Lord.

I think that's what he did. I didn't look
carefully, naturally. I was terrified.

He was waving the gun.
He couldn't hold it straight.

Then there was a terrible explosion.

Glass, dust everywhere.

Mrs Frere, who fired that shot?

My husband.
I think...

- Yes?
- I think he was trying to kill me.

After that first shot, I saw him
getting ready to fire again.

- Was he pulling...
- Please don't lead, Mr Rumpole!

(Mutters) Sit still. Your act comes later.

He was pulling back that thing.

My Lord,
if the usher might hold the gun.

- You wish to stage a demonstration?
- If Your Lordship pleases.

We are sure that thing isn't loaded?

Oh, quite sure, My Lord.

We don't want
another fatal accident...

- That was improper!
- I'm not sure I heard it.

- He spoke of an accident.
- (Mutters) Remind the jury.

I apologise to my learned friend.

How far was your husband
standing from you?

Very close. As close as that.

- He raised the gun...
- Usher, would you?

I was trying to stop him.

I got hold of his hand
to push the gun back.

I must have forced his finger
on the trigger.

There was another terrible explosion.
I never meant...

- (Sobs) I never...
- Yes.

- I never meant...
- Thank you, usher.

(Sobs)

Mrs Frere, when Mr Croft came in,

you told him
you had killed your husband.

Yes. I had... By accident.

What else did you say?

I said, how I could help him.

- You asked Mr Croft to help you?
- Yes.

Mrs Frere, did you ever have

any intention of killing
your husband?

Never! No! Never!

(Sobs)

Usher, a glass of water.

Bloody play-acting!

(Rumpole) In a few hours
this case will be over.

You will go home, put the kettle on

and you will forget
all about this little theatre,

about the angry, drunken actor

and his wretched infidelities.

This case has been a few hours
out of your lives,

but for the lady
I have the honour to represent,

all of her life is in the balance.

Is that life to be broken?

Is she to go down
in darkness and disgrace?

Or can she go back to her own world,

to bring us all joy and laughter,
and entertainment once again?

Ask yourselves that question,
members of the Jury.

And when you ask it,

you know there can only
be one answer.

(Whispers) Not now.

- You're alone.
- Hmm?

Oh, yes, Albert's just popped
next door to the magistrates' court

for a touch of dangerous driving.

The show must go on.

- You don't you like this part, do you?
- I can't stand it.

It's like waiting for the notices
to come out.

Waiting for hours with a rumbling tum

for the jury to get back.

A dry mouth, smoke too much,
drink too much tea.

(Chuckles)
And think of all the things

that I should have said.

- There you are, dear.
- Thank you, Elsie.

No sugar, thanks.

- Well, we... We've got work to do.
- Work?

Yes, in case they find
you guilty of manslaughter.

- Only that?
- That at the worst.

I have the facts for the mitigation.
I want to get the history clear.

Now you started this company
with GP Frere...

It was my money.
Every bloody penny of it.

We don't need to go
into the financial side.

That idiotic manager we had then
gave GP a contract

worth 50 percent of the profits
for no investment

and a talent that stopped short
of being able to say a line

and pour a drink at the same time.

I never paid his percentage.
Will we need to say that?

No.

50 per cent of ten years' work!

He reckoned he was owed
around �20,000.

He was going to sue us
and bankrupt the company.

You don't need to tell me any more.

Don't feel too badly, will you,
if we're not a hit.

They should be back soon now.

It's all a game to you, isn't it?
A wonderful game of let's pretend.

The costumes, the bows,
the little jokes.

- The onion at the end.
- Onion?

An old music hall expression,
for what makes the audience cry.

I was prepared to go with it
and wear the make-up.

- You didn't wear make-up.
- I know. That was brilliant of you.

You're a marvellous performer,
Mr Rumpole.

Don't let anyone tell you different.

- It's not a question of performance!
- Isn't it?

No, it is not!

The jury is assessing the facts,
trying to discover where the truth lies!

Or if the prosecution
have proved their case.

Oh, I'm tired.
Worn out with so much acting.

In the theatre, we haven't got time
for all that. We've got our livings to get.

- They want you upstairs. Ready, dear?
- Yes, Elsie.

(Clerk) Would your foreman
please stand?

Have you reached a verdict
on which you are all agreed?

We have, My Lord.

(AIbert) You did it, Mr Rumpole!
My senior partner will be over the moon.

Alone and without a leader.

It's the Penge bungalow job
all over again.

Is it, Albert? In that case,
I wasn't defending an actress.

Triumph, my dear. A total triumph.
Congratulations.

- You told me she was truthful.
- I meant her acting.

That is quite truthful.
Not to be faulted.

- That was all I meant.
- Yes.

Well, congratulations, Rumpole.
That was a bloody good win.

Oh, was it? Well, I hope so.

- Coming to the circuit dinner tonight?
- Tonight?

You'll enjoy it. The Midland Hotel.
They've got decent claret.

Splendid!

(Man) Just a couple more pictures.

(Inaudible chatter)

- (Man #1) You will send us copies?
- What?

- (Man #2) Will you be take a vacation?
- No... I'll probably go back to work.

I think we ought to go now.

Thanks very much. That's lovely.

OK, where are we going?

Mr Junior, in the matter of Rumpole.

Mr Senior,
I will read the indictment.

"Count one. Deserting
his learned leader in his hour of need,

"when his leader was given the sack,
are particulars of offence."

Mr Senior, have five minutes elapsed?

Five minutes have elapsed.
Gentlemen, you may now smoke.

Rumpole did add considerably
to the seriousness of the offence

by proceeding to win
in the absence of his learned leader.

Mitigate!

Has Rumpole anything to say
by way of mitigation?

- Rumpole?
- The show had to go on.

What? What did Rumpole say?

Sometimes. I must admit...

Sometimes, I wonder why.

Speak up!

What sort of a show is it exactly?

Have you ever considered
what we do to our clients?

Is the port stuck to that end of the table?

Seeing that they wear ties and hats,

keep their hands
out of their pockets,

remember to call the judge "My Lord".

Generally behaving like grocers
at a funeral...

- One minute.
- What do we tell them?

"Look respectable," we say.

"Look suitably serious.
Swear on the Bible.

"Say nothing which might upset
a jury of lay preachers."

What do we ever find out
about our clients

in all these trials, hmm?

Do we ever get
even a fleeting glimpse of the truth?

Or do we put a hat on the truth,

and a serious expression,
in order to please the audience?

Ah, I mean, of course,
the jury and, My Lord, the judge.

Do you ever worry about that?

- Do you ever?
- Time is up.

Oh, yes. All right. Quite all right.

- The performance is over.
- Mr Senior...

Rumpole's mitigation has merely added
to the gravity of the offence.

Rumpole, at your age,
with your experience,

I'm surprised you weren't proud
to get the sack.

Your conduct in winning the case

shows a total disregard
for the feelings

of an extremely sensitive silk.

The sentence
is a fine of 12 bottles of claret.

(AIl) Here, here.

Have you a cheque book on you?

Members will now entertain
the company in song.

(Applause)

Tommy, let's have
"On the Road to Mandalay".

I'm looking forward to this.

# Roll me back

# To Mandalay

# Where the old flotilla lay

# And to hear those paddles stroking

# From Rangoon to Mandalay

# On the road

# To Mandalay

# Where the flying fishes play

# And the dawn comes up like thunder

# Out of China

# Across the bay

# By the old Moulmein pagoda

# Looking eastward to the sea

# There's a Burma girl sitting
And I know... #

(Rumpole) 'Oh, I've had quite enough
of show business.'

# And the wind is in the palm trees... #

(Hollers) Taxi!

Where to, guv?

South!

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