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Authors: Tim Kevan

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‘No use locking the stable door, what with
cheval
s around and everything.’

‘I thought discretion being the better part of glory and all that.’

‘We can’t go counting one’s
poulets
now, can we. Not until they’re clucking.’

All in a broad Yorkshire accent of which Geoffrey Boycott would be proud.

Tuesday 24 October 2006

Day 17 (week 4): Bluffing

BusyBody is really starting to get on my nerves. I have taken to offering my services to at least one new member of chambers each day for an extra set of papers, but for the last two days in a row, they have mentioned in passing that BusyBody had already offered but that they’d bear it in mind in future. Maybe she spammed all of chambers with the offer. Maybe she’s been round each person individually. Whatever it is, I hope she’s annoying those members of chambers as much as she is me. This morning was just a good example.

‘How’s it going, BusyBody? Doing anything for lunch?’

‘Oh. Too much on I’m afraid. My pupilmaster’s working me non-stop.’

Absolutely no mention of the other work she’s doing, although I have to admit that there’s a certain cathartic pleasure in hearing a straightforward bare-faced lie and I give her credit for that. Something quite upfront and almost honest in the approach. No attempt to try and muddy the waters or to spin her activities in advance. Just straightforward denial. Anyway, we can both play at that game.

‘Lucky you,’ I answered. ‘My pupilmaster’s not giving me any work at all so I’ve had to ask the clerks if they can allocate me extra.’

That should get her going.

Wednesday 25 October 2006

Day 18 (week 4): State of the world

‘It’s terrible, you know,’ said HeadofChambers at lunch as he tucked into his roast lamb.

‘I don’t know what the world’s coming to,’ replied TheBoss as he picked out the bones from his roast trout.

‘It would never have happened twenty years ago,’ Headof-Chambers continued.

‘Even ten years ago. Extraordinary, really. Sometimes I just don’t recognise the world we now live in.’

‘To think that over half of our next door chambers’s tenants are now non-Oxbridge.’

‘Do you think it’s catching?’

‘It certainly seems to be.’

‘Well I think we need to guard against it as a matter of top priority. Thin end of the wedge, you know.’

‘Thick end more like.’

The wonderful modern Bar.

Thursday 26 October 2006

Day 19 (week 4): Criminal case

Looks like I will get to see my first criminal case next week.TheBoss appears to be the king of the returned brief at the moment and
a privately paying road traffic prosecution just came through the doors. Causing death by dangerous driving. Essex businessman driving a Porsche down Marylebone Road at seven in the morning. Knocked over a middle-aged man who set off about ten yards from the official crossing. Seems like he has a pretty good defence as the client had the sun behind him and the man crossing was most likely dazzled. The main reason for the prosecution, it seems, is that there were skid marks on the road, and although there is no proof, there is a suggestion the client was speeding. It could end up boiling down to how well the two reconstruction experts perform on the day. Will be good to see TheBoss finally fight a case.

Friday 27 October 2006

Day 20 (week 4): Bailiffs

‘BabyB, I’m in trouble.’

It was my mother and I was sitting at my desk. TheBoss scowled at the interruption and I scuttled outside of chambers to take the call.

‘What’s up?’

‘I’ve got the bailiffs round, BabyB. They want to take all our stuff and also they say they’ve got an order to evict us from the house.’

I could hear the panic in her voice, and I imagined her pacing up and down the small hallway of our house, pulling one hand through her shoulder-length grey hair.

‘What? How? Why?’

‘It’s the debts, BabyB. I thought it was best not to tell you at the time but they’re far worse than you know.’

‘How much worse?’

‘More than you can imagine. Probably twice the value of the house.’

‘But how did that happen?’ I asked, completely shocked.

‘It’s been all I could do to keep us afloat after I lost my job.’

What she didn’t mention was the crippling expense of putting her son through Oxford, Bar School and now pupillage.

‘But how did you actually get the loans if the house was already fully mortgaged?’

‘Very complicated. Borrowing from Peter to pay Paul.’

‘And you didn’t tell each of them about the other.’

‘No.’

Oh. This was getting even more serious. Not only did we face the prospect of being kicked out on to the street, but there was also a real worry that it could even end up as a police issue.

‘Look, don’t panic. Tell them I’ll be there in an hour and also, if you can, try and get your largest creditor on the phone.’

‘OK, BabyB. I’m so sorry. Really didn’t want to worry you and I felt so ashamed at the mess I’ve made.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out.’

Not that I had any idea whatsoever as to how I was going to do that. But first I had to get TheBoss’s permission to leave chambers in the middle of the day. I returned to his room and told him that my mother was in trouble. He didn’t look the slightest bit sympathetic and grudgingly allowed me to leave, though as I did he sneered, ‘Can’t go running home to Mummy when you have your own cases, you know.’

Once home, it seemed that when the bailiffs realised that there might be a legal dispute they had agreed to return the next day. My mother was in a state and it took a long time to calm her down. After that I rang up the manager of the loan company.

‘You do realise that your mother has been taking out loans without properly declaring the extent of her debts?’

‘Er, I’m looking into that,’ I said, not wanting to incriminate her.

‘And that that’s a criminal offence?’

‘So what can I do to make this better?’

‘Only one way, Mr BabyBarista, and that’s for you to raise the money. Either that or we evict you and report the matter to the police.’

‘Well, that’s impossible at present as I’m a pupil barrister living on the breadline. But this time next year I will be a tenant in these chambers and will certainly be in a position to start making repayments at that stage.’

I paused and gave him time to mull this over.‘How about,’ I then suggested, ‘that you transfer the whole of the debt into my name and you charge me a punitive rate of interest this year in return for deferring repayments until I am taken on as a tenant and agreeing not to report my mother.’

The manager considered the suggestion and then replied, ‘I would be prepared to agree to that, though with the proviso that if you then default I retain the right to report your mother’s dealings.’

He knew where to hit me hardest, but I had no option but to agree. The problem, of course, is that the prospect of tenancy is very far from the sure thing that I suggested and it may come back to bite me much harder this time next year.

I’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Monday 30 October 2006

Day 21 (week 5): Spineless

TheBoss is spineless. He’s a yellow coward of the very worst kind. He is a greedy, self-serving, scum-of-the-earth parasite who even gives his profession a bad name. He has so little spine that were it not for his stiff barrister wing collar, I don’t know how he’d manage to stand up.

It was a criminal case today. They don’t settle. They are a matter of justice one way or the other. The Crown against a particular private individual. The state enforcing the laws. The defender arriving and exercising the right to a fair trial. Innocent until proven guilty and all that. Even plea bargains don’t exist in this country. So no settlements. At all.

Or so I thought. But I had underestimated even TheBoss’s ingenuity in this respect. For once, he was at court an hour early. Met up with the client for the first time (two minutes) then with the reconstruction expert (three minutes). Then he was off ‘to talk to his opponent’. I tagged along, despite his look of irritation.

The two barristers took themselves away from the rest of the crowd and started chatting.

‘You’re in TheVamp’s chambers, aren’t you?’ the prosecutor asked TheBoss.

‘That’s right,’ chuckled TheBoss. ‘Everyone knows TheVamp.’

‘Though legend has it that there remain at least a few who don’t know her intimately.’

‘Not that I’ve met any myself.’

‘Nor me.’

‘What was it the legal directory said this year? “Has quickly gained a reputation as an all-rounder.”’

‘That one certainly did the rounds.’

They both chuckled.

‘So how long did you have the pleasure?’ asked TheBoss.

‘Longer than most, actually. As I remember it, a whole weekend. How about you?’

‘Landed her as my pupil for a month, so you can imagine . . .’

‘A month?’

‘Well, there were a few of us vying to be her pupilmaster after we met her at the pre-pupillage drinks. So rather than limit it to two lots of six months, we divided her time twelve ways.’

‘Nice.’

Well, that all led to a good quarter of an hour’s worth of cruel gossip at her expense. Then it was down to business.

‘So, any chance of reducing it to careless if we were to plead guilty?’

‘Unlikely, but I could run it past them. Why? Is that an offer?’

‘Let’s just say that whilst I don’t have any instructions, I’m sure I could bring him round to seeing sense if that was on offer.’

‘OK. I’ll make the call.’

Ten minutes later, the prosecutor had called the file handler at the Crown Prosecution Service, who very reluctantly had agreed to reduce the charge, ‘. . . in return for my buying her dinner this evening,’ he smirked.‘It’ll also give me the rest of the day off,which I could do with, actually. Quite a heavy weekend. Just got back from skiing.’

That was all TheBoss needed. Straight back to the client. Explained the risks of putting this in front of a jury. ‘Notoriously unpredictable,’ he said. ‘Not that I don’t think you’ve got a strong case. You have. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have been fighting. But if you can in any way manage that risk before you enter that courtroom, I think we at least have to consider it.’

The client was, to put it mildly, reluctant. He had been advised by the last barrister that the case against him was hopeless.

‘I entirely agree,’ TheBoss said, as he stepped up his settlement mode a notch further. ‘It’s why I would never advise you to plead guilty to the charge made. But even if there’s a ten per cent chance that you get yourself in front of a rogue jury – and I’m afraid they do exist – well . . . it’s your call and I wouldn’t like to seem like I’m trying to persuade you one way or the other . . . however, if the charge were merely careless driving, the most you’re likely to get is a six-month ban. On the other hand, the full charge and a rogue jury and you’re possibly looking at packing your toothbrush.’

This was simply beyond the pale. The man was innocent, of that I was absolutely sure. The other side’s reconstruction report was a shambles and I’m not surprised that TheBoss’s opponent was prepared to reduce the charge. It shouldn’t even have got anywhere near a courtroom. I don’t pretend to hold myself to the highest of standards and I don’t think I have the naïve illusions of the Bar that many people may possess. Yet, even allowing for my already jaded image of the profession, I was ashamed.

Needless to say, it settled. The client only got a two-month ban, probably reflecting the fact that the judge had also read the papers and didn’t think the client was guilty either. The terrible irony of this was that the client left the court raving about how great his ‘brief’ was and how he’d recommend him to all his mates. And to cap it,TheBoss left muttering sarcastically,‘Yeah,because I
so
want to build up a criminal hack’s practice.’

Back in chambers by noon. Brief fee, £2,500.

CHAPTER 2

November: Faustian Pact

If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.

Sun Tzu,
The Art of War

 

Wednesday 1 November 2006

Day 23 (week 5): Big mistake

TheBoss was away yesterday with no explanation. Just simply didn't turn up. I could have gone to the clerks and exposed the fact that he hadn't even arranged anything else for me to do, but on balance I wouldn't have been doing myself any favours in anyone's book. Plus, this was an opportunity for TheBoss to owe me one. Even a small one. So to capitalise on this, I got stuck into one of the bigger sets of papers lying around his room. The date the papers came into chambers was back in June and the instructions sought a general advice as to the value of the claim for injury and loss of earnings. No urgency in any of the instructions and so, although four months seemed a pretty long time in which to be turning around a set of papers, I could understand at least that they might not have been top priority.

BOOK: Law and Disorder
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