Law and Peace (5 page)

‘But he couldn't possibly have anything to do with this loan company.'

‘Maybe you're right. But we both know that half his friends all work in finance.'

Oh.

‘Listen,' she added. ‘I don't know anything and I'm sure I'm just being extra paranoid because I care about you.' She paused and then added, ‘But even so, what is it they say? Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean that they're not after you.'

‘Do you really think so?'

‘Who can tell?' With which she smiled and changed the conversation.

It left me desperately wanting to tell her about everything that happened last year. About TheBoss and his corruption, but above all about the compromises I had made myself. But on second thoughts, I'm in too deep to even start offloading now. So much for my mother's prediction that I'd never need to worry again.

Chapter 2

 

 

N
ovember
: W
ar

Thursday 1 November 2007

Year 2 (week 5): Flying

 

I was on the train to court today, haggling over the details of a claim with my opponent, TheCreep, who had plonked himself down at my table. Haggling is putting it politely. Getting harangued by him would be more accurate. Bearing in mind I've always admired the fact that arguing with TheBusker is like trying to nail jelly to a wall, I decided to go with one of his tactics by simply changing the subject.

‘Yes, very interesting,' I said. ‘Er, have you read any good books lately?'

But this just provoked the retort: ‘Leave the Buskering to TheBusker, BabyB.'

Ouch. Once more he was back to badgering over interest calculations as if he really believed that I cared about them. Then, just as the train sped over a tall bridge, a child in the carriage who was staring out of the window shouted, ‘Mummy, we're flying.'

Conversations actually stopped. Even TheCreep hesitated and for that moment, as we were all carried away from our present cares and lifted back to an innocent past where lawyers didn't exist and dreams were real, the whole carriage really was flying.

It was a fleeting moment of hope before it all started up once again.

 

 

Monday 5 November 2007

Year 2 (week 6): Declaration of war

 

After a weekend of unsuccessfully trying to untangle finances with my mother, the very last person I wanted to bump into this morning at court was TopFirst. Thankfully, at least, we weren't against each other and so I tried to ignore him. However, it became ever more clear that he was trying to get my attention and eventually he came over and collared me as I left the client to give my solicitor a call. He said just four words, ‘How's your mother, BabyB?'

By the time I began to make sense of what he had said, he was gone. Claire had been right. TopFirst was behind the loan shark's change of tack. As my mind started to clear, an anger rose in me like I've never felt before. War had been declared and this time there would be no rules.

 

 

Tuesday 6 November 2007

Year 2 (week 6): Facebook friend

 

Why and how are the two questions that continue to reverberate around my head. Why would TopFirst go nuclear when I still hold the Ginny tapes that I could release any time I like? I can only assume that he's figuring on my not wanting to risk incriminating myself in setting up a honeytrap just to ruin his engagement. In this he would be right, if that was the only thing I stood to gain. As to
how
, that's something I obviously need to investigate. But above all, if TopFirst has decided to show his hand to me at this point then I also have to ask what kind of trap he's trying to set now and how I might stay one step ahead?

So for the moment there'll be no brown envelope winging its way over to TopFirst's fiancée and he can keep on guessing just how far I'm prepared to go. In the meantime I need to start gathering information and there is no better place than the lovely fiancée herself. Which is why I added her to my list of friends on Facebook today. Since we did actually meet a few times last year, I also added a note:

Hi, hope all's well with you and TopFirst and that you're still enjoying life in your new career as a management consultant. Got to be more interesting than the cases they're feeding me. Anyway, just a note to say that if you're ever in the area and at a loose end, do pop in for coffee.

 

 

Wednesday 7 November 2007

Year 2 (week 6): Rehabilitation of offenders

 

TheVamp was complaining today about how pointless it had been for the judge to have sent her negligent doctor client to prison.

‘I mean, it's not like he's about to re-offend,' she said.

‘And it probably costs more to keep a prisoner for a year than it does to train a pupil barrister,' said TheCreep.

‘Yes, and all they learn is how to lie, thieve and generally live off the backs of honest, upstanding members of society,' said OldSmoothie.

‘As well as the little tricks which will keep them out of trouble on some ridiculous technicality or other,' said UpTights.

‘And that's before you add the shady network of contacts they get to tap into,' said OldSmoothie.

‘You're so right,' said TheCreep. ‘I mean, how on earth can they be expected to come out as normal, well-balanced individuals with that kind of legacy?'

‘Can't be much better for those in prison,' said TheBusker with a wry smile.

 

 

Thursday 8 November 2007

Year 2 (week 6): Skeleton argument

 

I had told TheBusker about my frustrating time with TheCreep the other day and he suggested that I follow him to court tomorrow when his opponent will be none other than the little upstart himself. My occasional trips with TheBusker not only provide a great distraction from my other worries but they also teach me more about courtroom tactics than anything I ever learnt from my pupilmasters. Then again, TheBoss and UpTights were something of a rum bunch. The case tomorrow is an appeal and skeleton arguments have been ordered to be written. TheCreep's is hardly either a skeleton or an argument, extending as it does to some fifty-three and a half pages. The Busker only highlighted the absurdity of such a creation for a relatively small personal injury case with the following skeleton in reply: ‘The appeal is misconceived since it has failed to refer to the binding authority of Davies v. Howard.'

I look forward to the fight.

 

 

Friday 9 November 2007

Year 2 (week 6): Chuckled out of court

 

TheBusker had already wound up TheCreep with his skeleton argument and by the time we arrived at court TheCreep was almost jumping up and down with frustration as he tried desperately to find out what TheBusker was going to say. Unfortunately for him the only response he could elicit was a low-pitched chuckle. Once in court, the chuckle continued. Not in a snide way but merely in response to the constant jibes being thrown forth by his opponent.

By way of example, TheCreep said, ‘Your Honour, my learned friend has singularly failed to set out any coherent argument against each of my points and has even failed to do so when I have asked him this morning . . .'

And then when everybody looked at TheBusker for a response his shoulders started rising and falling and he just carried on chuckling to himself like he was privy to some hilarious private joke.

In the end, TheCreep cracked and started to look more and more paranoid about TheBusker's show of confidence. Then TheBusker made the killer blow by handing him a note saying, ‘This Judge appeared in the case I referred to in my skeleton.'

When TheCreep read the note his face dropped and he immediately asked for a short adjournment. Once out of court he said to TheBusker, ‘Why on earth didn't you tell me that beforehand?'

‘It's in the report for all to see,' replied TheBusker, still chuckling.

Sure enough when TheCreep studied TheBusker's copy he found that the judge had indeed appeared and in fact successfully argued against exactly the legal point that TheCreep was now trying to make. To put him out of his misery, TheBusker made an offer that if TheCreep withdrew his appeal he wouldn't seek his costs thus far. By this point, TheCreep was in a blind panic fearing that he had in fact been negligent in not spotting the significance of the judge's identity for himself and accepted almost on the spot, before TheBusker reminded him that perhaps it might be wise to take instructions first.

It was only on the train home and after TheCreep had stropped off in a sulk after agreeing to the settlement that TheBusker gave me the full low-down.

‘You know, things are rarely as they seem. I heard this judge speak at a dinner only a few weeks ago when he described that case as [and he put on a slightly pompous judicial tone] “the worst injustice I've ever caused in a long career dedicated to causing such injustices”. And he went so far as to say that “If such a case ever comes before me on the bench, it's one of the very few of my wrongs I intend to right.”'

All this has led me to wonder if I can apply the ChuckleBluff to a few of my own upcoming cases.

 

 

Monday 12 November 2007

Year 2 (week 7): TheMoldies

 

TheMadOldies or TheMoldies, as SlipperySlope has taken to calling them, arrived in chambers today. I'm not sure what the collective noun would be in this case: a cackle? Or maybe a hobble? Whatever it is, they certainly lived up to all expectations. Despite their average age being well above that of the Rolling Stones, they were certainly rock 'n' roll, baby. There were seven of them in all and apparently there are more in the background. It doesn't really bear thinking about. All of them have been served anti-social behaviour orders aimed at stopping them from causing various kinds of idiosyncratic offences. An eighty-five-year-old man called Arthur, for example, says that he can't stop doing moonies every time he sees a police car go by. Then his seventy-nine-year-old wife Ethel says she gets into moods where she feels compelled to chuck buckets of water on teenagers going past her house. Another is an eighty-one-year-old man called Stanley (a nickname he says is due to the fact that his surname is Matthews), who has recently taken to dribbling a football wherever he goes. This not only includes the local shops but it even extended as far as chambers today. Mind you, I have to admit that I enjoyed it when he dribbled into UpTights's room and kicked the ball on to her desk shouting, ‘He shoots, he scores!'

Now whilst this may seem unusual behaviour, you may well ask whether these people are simply starting to suffer the terrible effects of such ageing diseases as dementia. This is no doubt the case that the other side will try to make, but the clients today were having none of it. We were told that there are dozens of them who have all been affected in similar ways within the space of six months and they all blame this on the local mobile phone mast that has recently been installed on top of a nearby little hill. They reckon that the telecom company in question has boosted its signal beyond the norm.

Well, despite it certainly proving to be a colourful conference, there is very little I can do at this stage. If we are going to get anywhere with this case we will need some evidence, a vital part of the whole process, which at the moment is lacking in almost every regard with the exception of TheMoldies' symptoms.

Either way the case isn't going away any time soon and it should provide a bit of extra interest to my practice.

 

 

Tuesday 13 November 2007

Year 2 (week 7): Soul destroying

 

Been thinking a lot about TheMoldies. They remind me of a poem by Roger McGough called ‘Let Me Die a Youngman's Death', in which he says, ‘when I'm 91 with silver hair and sitting in a barber's chair may rival gangsters with hamfisted tommyguns burst in and give me a short back and insides.'