Chapter Twenty

Dock Brief

 

Roger had a difficult decision to make the day before the case of Mr Green came on for trial at the Old Bailey. Should he ask Sally, Joy and his mother, or alternatively one or more and which of them? He would dearly have liked his triumph – if it was to be one – witnessed, but on the other hand, suppose things went wrong and he made a fool of himself again? Eventually he decided to ask Sally her opinion.

‘Roger,’ she said, ‘I should love to hear you, I really should. But d’you know, if I were you, I should wait until you’ve got more confidence. It’s always possible the thought of one of us – never mind which – will distract or worry you. Then again – you might actually start to act for our benefit and that would be really bad. I’m doing myself out of a lot in saying this, because I’m sure my Mr Sharpe would let me go if I wanted to.’

‘Our Mr Sharpe?’

‘Roger,’ said Sally, ‘you’re not jealous?’

‘Of course not,’ said Roger.

‘No, I was afraid I must be mistaken.’

‘Surely you don’t want me to be jealous?’

‘Oh, Roger, you are young. Never mind. Forget it. Will you ask Joy to go to the Old Bailey?’

‘Of course not,’ said Roger. ‘I nearly always take your advice. I’ve never known you wrong yet.’

‘Dear Roger, you’re so sweet – and unformed.’

‘You think I’m an awful ass.’

‘I don’t think anything of the sort. F E Smith was unformed once and all the others. You’ve lots of time. And d’you know – I think you’ve come on, even in the last six months.’

‘Do you really? You’re not just trying to be nice?’

‘Have you ever known me? No, I’d really like to come to the Old Bailey to see the difference. I’m sure it’ll be considerable.’

‘Do come, Sally – I’d love you to be there.’

‘Don’t tempt me, Roger. It isn’t fair. You tell me all about it when it’s over.’

That evening Roger had an appointment to dine with Mr Merivale.

‘My dear Roger,’ said Mr Merivale. ‘How very nice to see you. Very good of you to give me the time. You won’t be able to go out in the evenings much longer. Nose to the grindstone, my boy. But that’s the Bar. Either too much work or too little. How are things going?’

‘As a matter of fact,’ said Roger, ‘I’ve got a brief at the Old Bailey tomorrow.’

‘Dear me,’ said Mr Merivale. ‘For the prosecution or defence?’

‘Defence.’

‘Pleading Guilty?’

‘Oh, no. I hope to get him off.’

‘That’s the way, my boy. Be a fighter. Ah, here’s Joy. She’ll have to give me a report on you. In case we have any big criminal cases.’

‘Oh, what’s all this?’ said Joy.

‘I’ve got a case at the Old Bailey tomorrow.’

‘Oh, how lovely,’ said Joy.

‘And you’re going to report it for me,’ said Mr Merivale. ‘I shall send you both in my car.’

‘Oh, uncle – you are sweet,’ said Joy and gave him a kiss.

‘It’s most kind of you,’ said Roger, who did not see how he could possibly get out of it.

Roger did not tell his mother about the case. He decided to wait until it was over. It would be more effective and she’d be more likely to listen. On the day before the trial she was particularly difficult.

‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ she kept on saying. ‘I’ll forget my own name next.’

Roger was quite used to this sort of thing, but he asked politely: ‘What is it, Mother darling?’

‘If I knew, my pet, would I be asking? But there’s something I’ve forgotten that I’ve got to do. And terrible things will happen if I don’t do it.’

‘What terrible things?’

‘My dear, darling Roger, how should I know until they happen? Then it’ll be too late. Of course if I could think what it was I had to do, they wouldn’t happen. Be an angel and think for me. You know I don’t do it very well.’

‘I expect you’ve got to do something for Aunt Ethel.’

‘No, I think it’s more important than Aunt Ethel.’

‘It must be serious then,’ said Roger. ‘I’ve got something important to do tomorrow too, but I’ll tell you that later.’

‘Another examination, Roger darling? Surely not?’

‘Now Mother, really! You know I’m qualified. You’ve seen me in Court.’

‘But you could still have examinations. Doctors do. The one who helped me with you said he wanted to be a gynaecologist. I was very flattered.’

The next day Mr Merivale sent Joy in his car to fetch Roger and take them both to the Temple and thence to the Old Bailey.

‘Oh, Roger, I’m so excited,’ said Joy. ‘Now you really are starting. I’m sure no one as young as you has ever had a case at the Old Bailey. Oh, Roger – I do love you – and you do love me, don’t you, Roger? It’s at times like these when I feel it so terribly.’

She squeezed his hand. He squeezed hers.

‘If I don’t sound very affectionate, Joy, it’s because I’m thinking about the case. A man may go to prison because of me – or be free because of me. It’s a dreadful responsibility.’

‘I’m so proud of you, Roger,’ whispered Joy.

That morning Mr Sharpe sent for Sally.

‘Sally,’ he said, ‘I wonder if you’d do me a small favour?’

‘Of course,’ said Sally.

‘There’s a young man I know – or know of, I should say,’ he began.

‘No, thank you,’ said Sally. ‘It’s very kind of you all the same.’

‘Now, how on earth d’you know what I’m going to say? I know a lot of young men – a very large number. I go to a boys’ club among other things.’

‘I hope none of them are where you’re about to suggest I should go.’

Sally had told Mr Sharpe some days previously about Roger’s case.

‘Well, sorry,’ said Mr Sharpe, ‘if it can’t be volens, it’ll have to be nolens volens. As your study of the law of contract will have told you, an employee is bound to obey all reasonable orders of his or her employer.’

‘Very good, sir,’ said Sally.

‘You will proceed,’ said Mr Sharpe, ‘to the Old Bailey with all convenient haste. You will there make enquiry as to where a gentleman called Arthur Green is being tried and you will go to that Court, mentioning my name if necessary, in order to get you in – and bring me a complete report of the case. Go along now. You know you’re dying to.’

‘But it won’t be fair,’ said Sally. ‘I’ve stopped him taking Joy.’

‘Good thing too,’ said Mr Sharpe. ‘I never did like the sound of that girl. You know the motto. Anyway, you can’t help yourself, you’re under orders. Get the sack if you don’t. Then who’ll give you your articles?’

‘What was that?’ said Sally.

‘I said it,’ said Mr Sharpe.

‘Oh, oh–’ said Sally about as excited as Roger had been when she told him he was going to be a great man. ‘Oh – oh – I could kiss you.’

‘I’m afraid,’ said Mr Sharpe, ‘that my wife would not approve of that even from a brunette. Pity. I should have liked the experience.’

‘You are good. Why are you so nice to me?’ said Sally.

‘I’m not particularly nice to you. I like people as a whole. As for you – I think you’ve got more brains for a girl of twenty-one than I’ve ever heard of. You’ll end up President of the Law Society – unless you go and get married or something. And even then – which reminds me – I believe I’ve just given you a job of work. Off with you. And a full report, mind you – not only the mistakes.’

Before he went to Court Roger had a final word with Henry while Joy stayed in the car.

‘It’s quite definite, isn’t it, that I only get one speech,’ Roger said, ‘and that’s after I’ve called the prisoner?’

‘Quite definite,’ said Henry, ‘and make it a good one.’

Roger rejoined Joy and they drove to the Old Bailey, almost in silence, Roger becoming more and more nervous, like a runner before a race. They arrived at the Court and he took Joy through the main entrance. He decided to show her into Court before he robed. Ordinary spectators are supposed to go to the public gallery, but members of the legal profession can usually obtain admission for their friends to the body of the Court, unless the event is a very popular one. But the attendant at the entrance to the Court checks and sometimes stops the people who enter or try to do so.

‘What do you want?’ he asked politely but suspiciously of Roger.

‘I’m Counsel,’ said Roger with as much assurance as he could manage.

‘Oh,’ said the man, plainly taken aback. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t–’ He didn’t finish the sentence.

Roger showed Joy in and then went up to the robing-room. When he came back to the Court it was twenty past ten. His case was first in the list. Nearly zero hour. As he came into the Court a police officer came up to him.

‘Are you Mr Thursby by any chance?’ he asked.

Roger said he was.

‘Your client wants to see you at once, sir,’ he said.

He went hurriedly into the dock and down the stairs, wondering what it could be. Had he been more experienced he would not have been in the least surprised. Later he found out that old offenders, particularly those charged with fraud, often ask to see their counsel before and during the case and send them voluminous notes throughout the hearing. They are usually irrelevant and nearly always repetitive.

‘Good morning,’ said Mr Green. ‘I hope you slept well.’

‘What is it?’ said Roger. ‘There’s only a few minutes before the case starts.’

‘Now, don’t get fidgety,’ said Mr Green. ‘When you’ve done this as often as I have you’ll be quite calm and steady. Look at me. My teeth aren’t chattering, are they?’

‘No.’

‘I’m not shaking like a leaf, am I?’

‘No,’ said Roger, irritable with nervousness.

‘Now would you not say that I was in very good shape?’ asked Mr Green.

‘What has this got to do with it?’ said Roger. ‘I thought you wanted to see me about the case.’

‘Look,’ said Mr Green, ‘you’re my counsel aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I can ask my counsel questions, can’t I?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I’m asking one. Would you consider that I was in very good shape? It’s important, you know. If you thought I wasn’t, you might want an adjournment. It’s I who’ve got to go in the witness box and lie like a trooper, not you.’

‘But you’re not going to commit perjury?’ said Roger, anxiously.

‘Just a manner of speaking,’ said Mr Green. ‘I shall tell them much more truth than I gave them toffee. Now, how am I? Is my tie straight?’

‘Really!’ said Roger, and then said very seriously: ‘You will tell the truth, won’t you?’

‘What d’you take me for?’ said Mr Green. ‘Anyone would think I was a crook. You’ll hurt my feelings if you’re not careful. And then where shall we be? Now, what about the tie? Does it cover the stud all right?’

‘This is ridiculous,’ said Roger.

‘Come, come, sir,’ said Mr Green. ‘I’m playing the leading part in this show. You may think you are till it comes to going to jail. Then you’ll cheerfully yield pride of place to me. True, isn’t it? You wouldn’t go to jail instead of me, would you?’

‘No,’ said Roger.

‘Right, then, I’m the leading actor, and you don’t send him on to the stage looking anyhow. He has a dresser, doesn’t he? Couldn’t afford one as well as you. So I thought you wouldn’t mind giving me the once-over. Hair all right?’

‘Quite,’ said Roger. That was easy. There was none.

‘Trouser creases all right?’

‘Very good.’

‘Pity I haven’t got that gold tooth. I flogged it during my last stretch. Got some jam for it. D’you like jam?’

‘I’m going back into Court,’ said Roger, ‘or I shan’t be there when the judge comes in.’

‘Don’t be cross,’ said Mr Green. ‘You’ll never do any good if you’re cross. Give me a nice smile. Come on. That’s better. Now take it easy. It’s going to be perfectly all right. Next time I see you it won’t be here. Won’t be at Ascot, I’m afraid. Can’t get into the Royal Enclosure any more. Even Mr St Clair Smith couldn’t get me in.’

At that moment a warder came into the room.

‘The judge is just going to sit, sir,’ he said.

‘Good luck,’ said Mr Green. ‘Chin up, head high, no heel taps, all’s fair in love and war, dark the dawn when day is nigh, faint heart never won – oh – he’s gone.’ He turned to the warder: ‘I almost threw that one back,’ he said, ‘but you should have seen the one that got away.’

Roger only just had time to get into the Court before the knocks heralding the arrival of the judge. The judge took his seat, and Roger, having bowed low, sat down and looked across at the jury who were to try Mr Green. As he did so two ladies came into Court and were shown to the seats behind counsel. But for the sight which met his eyes Roger might have noticed them. They were Sally and her mother. They had met outside the Court.

‘What on earth are you doing, Mother?’ Sally had said.

‘Well, I thought, as you weren’t going, I would. Now I see that I might have done some more practising. Well, as I’m here I might as well stay. Which way do we go in? I promise not to sing.’

The sight which had so shaken Roger was that of his mother sitting in the front row of the jury. At the last moment she had remembered what it was she had had to do. She sat cheerfully in the jury box looking interestedly at everything in the Court. Her eye travelled from the judge to the seats for counsel.

‘That one looks a bit young,’ she said to herself as she looked along the line. ‘Quite like Roger really. Yes, very. I must tell him. Quite a striking likeness. Good gracious, it is Roger. Well, really, he might have told me. I wonder if he’ll speak. Should I smile at him or won’t he like it? Why shouldn’t I? After all, I’m his mother.’

She beamed at her son, and waved her hand slightly.

Roger went red in the face. He adored his mother and hated to hurt her feelings, but it was very difficult to smile. And, of course, he couldn’t wave. He turned round to see if people had noticed his mother waving to him. On his right was Joy where he had put her. On his left were Sally and her mother. He only had a moment to consider whose double dealing – as it must have appeared – was the worse, his or Sally’s. But bringing her mother was really too bad. But now what was he to do about his own mother? The jury were about to be sworn. When was he to tell the judge? And in what language? How awful to have to get up and say, ‘The lady’s my mother,’ like Strephon in Iolanthe. ‘I suppose I’d better do it at once,’ he said to himself, and very unhappily rose and looked at the judge, who simply shook his head at him and waved him to sit down. He did not feel he could speak to his next-door neighbour. It sounded too absurd. Being called by his Christian name at school was nothing. Oh, dear, this is a nice way to start. Will I ever recover? he thought. Now they were swearing the jury. He must do something. He got up again. The judge looked at him angrily. Even a layman should know that the swearing of the jury must not be interrupted. Applications could be made after they had been sworn. Here, was a member of the Bar not only getting up when he ought to have waited, but getting up again after he’d been told to sit down. He really must be taught a lesson.

‘Yes, what is it?’ he snapped to Roger. ‘If you don’t know the rules ask someone who does. I’ve told you to wait once.’

Roger remained standing, waiting to speak.

‘Will you please sit down,’ said the judge.

‘My Lord, I want to mention–’ began Roger.

‘I’ve told you to wait,’ said the judge. All right, if the young man wanted it he should have it. He turned his body slightly towards counsel’s seats.

‘In this Court,’ he said, ‘where I have had the honour to preside for a good many years I have never yet seen counsel behave in this shocking manner. Justice could not be administered at all unless directions from the Bench were observed by the Bar. Until this moment, I have never known–’

Roger had had as much as he could stand and subsided, his face scarlet.

‘Thank you,’ said the judge. ‘Thank you very much. I am very much obliged. Now perhaps the swearing of the jury can be continued.’

Although the jury could in this particular case have all been sworn at once, it is the practice at the Old Bailey to swear them separately. In due course it became Mrs Thursby’s turn. It must be right to object. His client had been told that he must object when the jurors came to the Book to be sworn. Now was the time. He had a good mind to leave his mother on the jury. But then he supposed he’d be disbarred. Fearless integrity, the Treasurer of his Inn had said. That was all very well for him. He’d never had his mother on the jury. Well, he must do it, but there’s nothing fearless about it, he said to himself. I’m terrified. He got up again. The judge could not have believed it possible. He was a choleric man, equally capable of bestowing immense and undeserved praise in fantastically flattering terms and of – figuratively – spitting like two cats. This time the cats had it.

‘I do not know your name,’ he began, thinking hard for the most offensive words he could find, ‘but that,’ he went on, ‘in view of your extraordinary behaviour I do not find altogether surprising. Will you now do me the personal favour of resuming your seat. Otherwise I shall be under the painful duty of reporting you to your Benchers before whom it cannot have been very long ago that you appeared to be called to the Bar.’

As Roger still remained on his feet, waiting to speak, but not liking to interrupt the judge, from whom words poured steadily at him in a vitriolic stream, the judge said: ‘I order you to sit down.’

Roger did as he was told and, from where he sat, said loudly and clearly – as though it were the last cry of a man about to be executed: ‘I object to the next juror. She’s my mother.’

There was an immediate and thrilling silence. It was broken by Mr Green.

‘I don’t, my Lord. In fact I like the look of the lady.’

‘You be quiet,’ said the judge, and thought for several seconds. During the time he had had the honour to preside in that Court he had seldom had to think for so long before making a decision. Eventually he tapped his desk with a pencil and asked the clerk for Roger’s name. Then he spoke: ‘Mr Thursby,’ he began.

Roger did not know whether to get up or not. He’d been ordered to sit down. It would be contempt of Court to get up. Yet somehow when the judge was addressing him it seemed all wrong to remain seated. He did not know what to do until his next-door neighbour whispered.

‘Get up. The old fool’s going to apologize.’

Roger took the advice and was relieved to find that he was not immediately ordered to sit down – indeed if the judge had told two warders to throw him to the ground he would not have been altogether surprised.

‘Mr Thursby,’ repeated the judge in dulcet tones after Roger had risen, ‘I owe you a very humble apology, and I hope you will see fit to accept it. I am extremely sorry. By my haste I have placed you in a position which would have been horribly embarrassing for any member of the Bar and which for one of – if I may say so without offence – your limited experience must have been almost beyond bearing. You dealt with the situation with a courage and a patience which I shall long remember.’

A lump came into Roger’s throat, and it was all he could do to prevent himself from breaking down. He tried to say: ‘Thank you, my Lord,’ but very little was heard of it and he sat down and looked at his knees. The judge then turned to Mrs Thursby.

‘You had better leave the jury box, madam. I owe you an apology too, and I should like to say that you have every reason for being proud of your son.’

To someone like Peter this would have been simply splendid. But it made Roger feel distinctly sick. And then he thought of all the people listening to him. Sally, Joy, Sally’s mother and his own. Not to mention all the rest of those in Court. He felt as he had felt after boxing at school and being roundly trounced by a bigger boy, when the headmaster came up to him and said in a loud voice: ‘Plucky boy.’

It sent shivers down his back. He wondered if this sort of thing happened to everyone. They couldn’t often have barrister’s mothers on the jury at all, let alone in cases where their sons were engaged. Another juryman was sworn. The judge scribbled a note which the usher brought to Roger. It said:

So very sorry. I shall be so pleased if you will bring your mother to see me during the adjournment. S K.

Roger did not know whether to answer it in writing or by bowing. He asked his neighbour.

‘What do I do with this?’

‘Just bow and grin.’

He did as he was told. The judge smiled back at him. The jury had now been sworn and were informed of the charge against the prisoner. They were told he had pleaded Not Guilty and that it was for them to say whether he was Guilty or not.

Counsel for the prosecution opened the case quite shortly and called as his first witness the man who had bought the toffee. His name was Blake. He was duly asked about his purchase from Mr Green and about the false reference.

‘Would you have sent the money if you had not believed this document to be a genuine reference?’

‘No.’

The moment arrived for Roger to cross-examine.

‘You remember seeing the reference, I suppose?’ he asked.

‘Certainly.’

‘Did you have any other letters about the same time?’

‘Letters? Yes, of course.’

‘From the defendant, I mean?’

‘From the defendant? Only the one offering me the toffee.’

‘How long was that before you received the reference?’

‘Two or three weeks.’

‘Quite sure?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

That’s what Henry meant, thought Roger. I shouldn’t have asked that last question.

‘Two to three weeks?’ repeated Roger.

‘Yes,’ said Mr Blake.

This time Roger left it alone.

‘Now, Mr Blake, you say you received the reference before you sent the money. Are you quite sure of that?’

‘Certainly. Look at the date. The 20th. I sent the money on the 23rd. I must have received the reference on the 21st.’

‘Got the envelope by any chance?’

‘I don’t keep envelopes.’

‘So you’re relying on your memory entirely?’

‘Certainly not entirely. On the date on the reference as well.’

‘So that if it hadn’t had that date on it you wouldn’t have known whether you sent the money before or after you received the reference?’

‘I certainly would have. I sent it after I had the reference – what’s the point of being offered a reference if you don’t wait for it?’

‘Does this in any way shake your recollection?’ asked Roger holding up the receipt for posting to be handed to the witness. Mr Blake looked at it.

‘Well?’ he said.

‘Does that shake your recollection at all?’ asked Roger.

‘Not in the least,’ said the witness. ‘It’s just a receipt for posting a letter.’

‘To you.’

‘What of it?’

‘It was given to the prisoner.’

‘How do I know?’

‘What is this document?’ asked the judge. ‘Let me look at it.’ It was handed to the judge who looked at it closely. ‘This is dated the 24th,’ he said. ‘It shows that a letter was posted to you on that date by someone.’

‘Yes, my Lord,’ said the witness.

‘Well,’ said the judge, ‘it apparently came into the possession of the prisoner and if it was issued to him by the post office it shows that he posted a letter to you on the 24th.’

‘Yes, my Lord?’ said Mr Blake.

‘Well – you’ve said that he only sent you one letter and that was two or three weeks before you received the reference.’

‘Possibly I was wrong, my Lord.’

‘Possibly anything,’ said the judge, ‘but what counsel very properly puts to you is this. If that receipt was issued to the prisoner are you still prepared to swear positively that you received the reference before, you sent the money?’

‘I must have, my Lord.’

‘Then how is this receipt to be accounted for?’

‘I can’t tell you that, my Lord, unless I had another letter from the prisoner. I suppose I might have.’

‘But you can’t remember one?’

‘I can’t say that I do, my Lord. Possibly, my Lord, the prisoner got it from someone else.’

‘Whom do you suggest?’

‘I have no idea, my Lord. All I know is that I was offered a reference and, if I’m offered a reference, I’m sure I wouldn’t send the money without getting it first. I know something about this mail order business.’

‘You mean you’ve been cheated before?’ said Roger all too quickly.

‘Steady,’ said Mr Green.

‘Be quiet and behave yourself,’ said the judge. ‘Your case is being conducted admirably. It is a model of what such a cross-examination should be. Perhaps, Mr Thursby,’ he added, ‘that last question could be rephrased.’

‘Have you in the past been cheated?’

‘I have.’

‘Toffee?’ asked Roger with a flash of inspiration.

‘Yes, as a matter of fact,’ said the witness.

‘You’ve a sweet tooth?’ asked Roger.

‘Well, I have as a matter of fact.’

‘You like toffee, apparently?’

‘I don’t see why I should be ashamed of it,’ said Mr Blake.

‘No one’s suggesting you should be,’ said the judge. ‘Counsel only wishes to establish the fact that you are fond of toffee.’

‘Well, I am,’ said Mr Blake, ‘and I don’t mind admitting it.’

‘P’raps you decided not to bother about a reference on this occasion and chanced sending the money?’

The witness did not answer.

‘Well,’ said the judge, ‘what do you say to that?’

‘I suppose it’s possible,’ said Mr Blake, ‘but I don’t think so.’

‘It could have happened?’ said the judge.

‘I suppose so,’ said Mr Blake reluctantly.

Eventually the case for the prosecution closed.

‘Yes, Mr Thursby,’ said the judge pleasantly. ‘Are you going to open your case to the jury?’

What is this? thought Roger. He’s inviting me to make two speeches. But I can’t do that, surely. Henry said I couldn’t, and I’m sure that’s what it said in the book. But here he is inviting me to do so. It’ll look rude if I don’t accept his offer. He’s being so nice to me. I mustn’t offend him. P’raps it’s a sort of consolation prize. Oh – well, here goes.

‘If your Lordship pleases,’ said Roger. ‘May it please your Lordship, members of the jury, the evidence for the prosecution has been completed and it now becomes my duty to open the defence.’

How professional it sounded, thought Roger, as he said it. At that moment the judge suddenly realized that he might have misled Roger.

‘Forgive me, Mr Thursby,’ he said, ‘but I assume that you are calling evidence in addition to the prisoner?’

‘Oh, no, my Lord.’

‘Well then,’ said the judge, ‘you can’t have two speeches, you know. You address the jury afterwards.’

Well, I knew that, thought Roger. What’s he want to make a ruddy fool of me for? Everybody will think I don’t know a thing. Well, they’re quite right but I don’t want it advertised every moment. All right, here goes again.

‘If your Lordship pleases. Mr Green, will you go into the witness box, please?’

‘Certainly,’ said Mr Green. ‘With pleasure,’ and he came out of the dock, and went into the box to be sworn. Roger asked him the necessary questions about himself and then asked: ‘Who wrote the reference which was sent to Mr Blake?’

‘I did.’

‘When did you send it?’

‘On the 24th February.’

‘Do you identify the receipt for posting?’

‘I do.’

‘Did you write any other letter to Mr Blake except this reference and the original letter which he has produced?’

‘I did not.’

‘Did you obtain that receipt for posting from someone else or is it in respect of the reference?’

‘It’s in respect of the reference.’

‘Thank you,’ said Roger and sat down. Counsel for the prosecution then cross-examined.

‘Let me follow this,’ he said. ‘Do I rightly understand your evidence to be this? You offered to supply toffee to Mr Blake, and offered to send him a reference. He does not wait for the reference but sends the money. After you have received the money you send him a reference which you have written out yourself in a false name. Is that your story?’

‘That,’ said Mr Green, ‘is not only my story but it happens to be true. I hope you don’t mind.’

‘Don’t be impertinent,’ said the judge.

‘I’m very sorry, my Lord,’ said Mr Green. ‘I don’t intend to be impertinent but I have a little way of talking sometimes which makes people think that I do. Perhaps I’d better apologize in advance for any false impressions I may–’

‘Be quiet,’ said the judge, ‘you’re not doing yourself any good by making these silly speeches. Behave yourself and answer the questions.’

‘Well, then,’ said counsel, ‘will you be good enough to tell my Lord and the jury why you thought it necessary after you’d received the money to send the reference?’

‘For good measure,’ said Mr Green. ‘After all,’ he went on, ‘I’d offered a reference. Why shouldn’t he have one? I thought it might make him happier.’

‘Really,’ said counsel, ‘I completely fail to understand you.’

‘Ah,’ said Mr Green, ‘there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of–’

‘Now, look,’ interrupted the judge, ‘I shan’t warn you again. If I have any more nonsense from you I shall stand this case over to next session.’

‘I hope your Lordship won’t do that,’ said Mr Green. ‘I may get another judge and I like being tried by your Lordship. There’s nothing like a fair trial, I say.’

‘Well, behave yourself,’ said the judge, not altogether displeased.

‘Makes you feel good, even if you aren’t,’ went on Mr Green. ‘I’m so sorry, my Lord,’ he added quickly.

‘Mr Thursby,’ said the judge, ‘I must really ask you to control your client. I shan’t warn him again.’

‘If your Lordship pleases,’ said Roger, not knowing how on earth he was to comply with the direction.

Fortunately Mr Green was a little less irrepressible for the rest of his evidence.

‘Now,’ said prosecuting counsel, ‘is this the language you used about yourself in this admittedly false reference? “I have known Mr Arthur Green for many many years.”’

‘Quite true,’ said Mr Green. ‘I had.’

‘Wait,’ said counsel. ‘Does it go on like this? “And during that period I can say that I have given him credit for thousands of pounds.” Was that true?’

‘Well, I’ve trusted him all my life,’ said Mr Green, ‘and he’s never let me down.’

‘Has he ever been worth thousands of pounds?’

‘He’s worth more than that to me,’ said Mr Green.

‘Did the reference go on like this?’ asked counsel.

‘“In my view he is in a very substantial way of business and can be trusted for any amount. Knowing him as I do I cannot well say less.” Were you in a very substantial way of business?’

‘Well, it’s a comparative term. I was getting a lot of orders.’

‘By sending false references?’

‘Oh, dear, no – I always sent the references afterwards. I told you already.’

‘I cannot see the object.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Mr Green. ‘I’ve done my best to explain and got into trouble with his Lordship in trying to do so.’

‘Do you say this was an honest transaction?’

‘Certainly. I got the money and he got the toffee.’

‘Not all he ordered.’

‘There’s nothing about that in the indictment,’ said Mr Green.

‘Never mind about the indictment,’ said counsel.

‘But I do. That’s what I’m being tried on, isn’t it? It says I obtained goods by giving a false reference. Well, I didn’t. Isn’t that the end of the case?’

‘Don’t ask me questions,’ said counsel, ‘and kindly answer mine. Did not Mr Blake get less toffee than he paid for?’

‘That’s possible,’ said Mr Green. ‘I had a very bad man doing the packing at that time. He made away with a lot of toffee. Must have had a sweet tooth too. So it’s quite possible Mr Blake got too little. But that wasn’t my fault. I can’t stand over the man who’s doing the packing all the time, can I? I’ve got other work to do. And I’d no reason to distrust him at the time.’

‘Who was this man?’

‘Well, the name he gave to me was Brown – without an “e” – but, of course, it might have been an alias.’

‘Did you get a reference with him?’

‘I don’t much care for references,’ said Mr Green. ‘You see–’ he added and waved his hand expressively.

‘Are you sure there ever was a Mr Brown?’

‘Of course,’ said Mr Green. ‘I can describe him if you like. Aged about thirty-five, middling height, brown hair, turned his toes in as he walked, small moustache – though, of course, he might have shaved it off now. Fond of toffee,’ he added.

Prosecuting counsel paused.

‘Yes, Mr Thackeray?’ said the judge. ‘Any more questions?’

‘I suggest,’ said counsel, ‘that you sent the reference before you received the money.’

For answer Mr Green just waved the receipt.

‘Will you answer my question?’ asked counsel angrily.

‘Well, Mr Thackeray,’ said the judge, ‘it is a pretty good answer, isn’t it? Can you really do much more with this case? After all, it is for you to prove your case with reasonable certainty. No one likes false references – I don’t suppose the jury do any more than you – but you’ve got to prove it was received before your client sent the money.’

‘There is the evidence of Mr Blake,’ said counsel.

‘I know,’ said the judge, ‘but how far can that take you in a criminal trial? He was by no means certain about it – and here is the receipt. That is a genuine document, anyway. What the truth of this transaction is, I don’t pretend to know, but the prisoner’s quite right when he says he’s being tried on this indictment which simply alleges one false pretence. I can’t, of course, say there’s no evidence – but it may be that the jury will say they have heard enough already.’

‘My Lord, the question of attempting to obtain by false pretences could arise.’

‘Surely not,’ said the judge. ‘How can he attempt to obtain money which he has already received?’

The judge turned towards the jury.

‘Members of the jury,’ he said, ‘once the case for the prosecution is closed it is open for you at any stage to say you’ve heard enough and that you’re not satisfied that the prisoner’s guilt has been proved. You may think his methods of carrying on business are pretty odd – you may think that a little more investigation might have been made by the police into those methods – and such investigations can still be made. But there is only one charge against the prisoner and that has to be proved to your satisfaction. Perhaps you’d like to have a word with each other.’

The jury did as they were told and three minutes later they stopped the case and returned a verdict of Not Guilty.

‘Thank you,’ said Mr Green when the judge discharged him. ‘May I say something, my Lord?’ he asked.

‘Well, what is it?’ asked the judge.

‘I should like to thank you for a very fair trial, my Lord.’ The judge said nothing, but he did not in the least object. ‘Would I be out of order,’ went on Mr Green, ‘in inviting everyone to some mild form of celebration?’

‘Be quiet,’ snapped the judge. ‘I’ve a good mind to send you to prison for contempt of Court.’

‘Oh, that’s different,’ said Mr Green. ‘I’d better go.’ And he left the dock. He went straight to Roger, shook hands with him and whispered: ‘What did I tell you? Can you sing now?’

Roger said nothing.

‘Would you like my card?’ said Mr Green. ‘In case I can be of any help to you in the future?’

‘Goodbye,’ said Roger.

‘Goodbye,’ said Mr Green, and started to go. Then he came back.

‘Oh, if at any time you should want any toffee–’ he said, and went again.