Law and Peace (35 page)

But what perhaps you don't know is that we now have over 500 barristers taking part in the online virtual reality game Second Life. We've created a world that is populated only by those barristers who are appearing in court. Very frightening what their creative minds have produced in the last few weeks. Forget about schools and hospitals. So far, we have a dodgy firm of solicitors, an ambulance-chasing accident management company and then, the one that took most people by surprise: the Judges' Zoo. Yes, believe it or not, it's already become a convention that if the judge you're appearing in front of is being particularly annoying then you just create a persona for him in Second Life and stick him in the Judges' Zoo. Although when I say zoo, think prison. It's proving to be one of the most popular tourist attractions, particularly after someone added a function whereby you are able to throw your wig at the occupants of said zoo.

I just hope the judges themselves don't start logging in.

 

 

Thursday 17 July 2008

Year 2 (week 42): Good news, bad news

 

The good news is that JudgeFetish has announced that he will remain on the case. The bad news is that I was paid a little visit by the local constabulary last night. That's correct. Far from cowering away at the possibility of embarrassment, JudgeFetish has come out all guns blazing and plod was immediately summoned to the doorsteps of all the lawyers involved in the case. Ouch. Except that thankfully, this was the reaction I had anticipated from a high court judge threatened in such an unsophisticated way. Which is also why I only put up token resistance to the police taking away my computer for examination after they'd helped set me up with a back-up of any files I would need in the meantime. Admittedly I mentioned client privilege and certainly used the words ‘outrageous' and ‘civil liberties' but even so, I eventually doffed my wig and allowed them to carry out their duties.

The fact that they might find a threatening and somewhat incriminating email on there addressed to me and purporting to be from TopFirst has of course nothing to do with it: an email, incidentally, that was sent from the same email café where the letter to the judge was printed. Oh, and the person who sent the email? Why it was Ginny the HoneyTrap of course and in the unlikely event that they actually identify her, I have plenty of email and video evidence which I could leak which inextricably links her to TopFirst.

 

 

Friday 18 July 2008

Year 2 (week 42): Punishment of Sisyphus

 

‘With all this talk about the credit crunch and calling in the debts, I think it's about time we barristers stood up for ourselves. I'm owed a hundred and fifty grand by SlipperySlope alone and it's been outstanding for over a year.' HeadofChambers was in combative mode at chambers tea today.

‘Yes, call in the debts. We've been financing solicitors for far too long,' replied OldSmoothie.

Even UpTights agreed. ‘Greedy, fat-cat solicitors using all our money to jet set around the world schmoozing clients. I'm currently owed over two hundred grand by those thieving, snivelling pencil pushers.'

‘That'll be the same thieving snivelling pencil pushers who put bread on your table,' smiled TheBusker.

‘And botulism in your face,' piped up OldSmoothie.

‘It's just not right, though,' said UpTights. ‘No one in the civilised world gets treated like us barristers do, what with the late payments and last-minute briefs. No one. Not even, er . . .'

She trailed off as she realised that everyone was listening and waiting to hear what she would come up with next, and yet she was lost for a single example. Eventually HeadofChambers came to her aid with, ‘Anyway, they really do have to realise that they wouldn't survive without us as well as their clients.'

‘Well, technically they could always do the court cases themselves,' reminded TheBusker.

‘Er, well, I don't think that's going to happen,' said HeadofChambers, his confidence sapping a little. Then in a more reflective tone he added, ‘Although come to think of it, even if I was paid the hundred grand I'm owed by one firm, I'd probably have to pay their family law division a similar amount for what I owe them for my divorce.'

‘But that's what a lot of this financial mess is about,' said TheBusker. ‘Everyone's wanting to take from Peter to pay Paul, who then wants to spend it in paying back to Peter. Never-ending circles of credit and debt.'

‘Reminds me of the special punishment reserved for the hubris of Sisyphus who thought he was cleverer even than the gods,' said OldRuin. ‘His curse was to roll a huge boulder up a hill, only to watch it roll back down over and over again throughout eternity.'

After which the wind had well and truly left their collective sails.

 

 

Monday 21 July 2008

Year 2 (week 43): I couldn't possibly comment . . .

 

Had another visit from the police today. They have thoroughly searched my computer and are asking me to comment on an email addressed to me, apparently coming from TopFirst, which includes the following text:

 

I promise you this BabyBarista: I will not only bring you down but all your mad oldies with you. What's more, you won't even know it's happening until it's too late and even then you'll never know how it was done.

 

They also found a few other aggressive emails which he has sent me in the past which only went to back up the picture they were forming. I told the police that whilst I was keen to help them with their enquiries, I didn't want to comment on anything that could potentially incriminate a fellow member of my honourable profession unless I was forced to do so. Naturally. They didn't push it any further, both commenting that they thoroughly understood what a difficult position I was in.

And if you believe that . . .

 

 

Tuesday 22 July 2008

Year 2 (week 43): TheHamster

 

Poor SlipperySlope. There's always been something of the am-dram end of the pier about him but today his performance really took the biscuit. Not that there should even have been a performance. You see, we both turned up at court on a case and then just before the client arrived Slippery turned to me and said, ‘Look, BabyB, I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier but I've always dreamt of being a barrister and actually doing the performing in court and this could be my chance. The case is small enough not to matter and it's a new judge too. Why don't I just take it from here? I'll still pay you your brief fee. It's just that today . . . well, I feel anything is possible.'

He seemed slightly hyper and I wondered if maybe his doctor had changed his combination of drugs. But I wasn't exactly in a position to argue. He was, literally, the boss and so I sat back and watched. At least I watched until I had to turn away, for it was just too painful to do anything else. The only name for him that springs to mind today is TheHamster, owing to his terrible ham acting that would put even a pantomime dame in the church hall at Christmas to shame. It was like he'd been watching endless re-runs of
Perry Mason
and
Ally McBeal
and decided that that was how lawyers should perform in court. Don't get me wrong, they're both great shows. But unless you are aged eighty and perhaps a former Attorney General addressing the House of Lords in the case of the decade, you do not go about addressing the court with the sorts of airs and graces you might see in those programmes and even then it'd be eccentric. But even this is to understate his performance I'm afraid.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the case lasted about ten times longer than it should have: something that became clear from the moment Slippery began to go through every page of the pleadings and evidence as his introduction to this tiny car case. To cap it all, the judge was just a bit wet behind the ears and so he didn't have the guts to put an end to Slippery's ridiculous charade.

Then when it came to the cross-examination of the other side's witness, Slippery leapt up from his seat, left the courtroom to the astonishment of us all and then burst back in, demanding of the witness, ‘Now. When I left the room, with which hand did I open the door?'

To which the witness answered, ‘No idea.'

‘Aha,' Slippery replied. ‘This obviously shows that your visual memory is unreliable, wouldn't you agree?'

Every one of us could hear the judge utter ‘What rubbish' under his breath.

After this Slippery changed tack to: ‘Do you accept that you were driving a lethal weapon?'

‘Er, not exactly,' the witness answered a little confused. ‘As you can see from my witness statement I was driving my Jaguar XJ6.'

‘But do you accept that a car is a lethal weapon?'

‘What, like your cross-examination?' he replied sarcastically.

The judge smiled at this before forcing a stern look and saying, ‘If you could just answer the questions please.'

Slippery repeated his question very slowly and with a staccato on each word as if he was punching the witness with each beat. ‘Do you accept that a car is a lethal weapon?'

‘No, my car is an extremely luxurious way of transporting me from A to B.'

‘But do you accept that it still has just as much killing power as, say, a sawn-off shotgun?'

‘Well, in those terms I'd prefer to think of it more as a classic Purdey side-by-side. But nevertheless no, I don't accept what you are suggesting.'

‘Ah ha, but you accept the possibility that it might be like a Purley shotgun?'

‘Purdey.'

‘Exactly, Purley . . .'

And so it went on. When he eventually emerged from that particular quagmire he said to the witness, ‘You say in your witness statement that my client, and I quote, “came out of nowhere”. Is that correct?'

‘Yes.'

‘Do you still say that now?'

‘Yes.'

With this revelation he almost jumped in the air like a footballer celebrating a goal as he then bellowed in the manner of Monty Python's Spanish Inquisition sketch, ‘But no one comes out of nowhere, now do they?' Then he added with a smile and a wink (honestly) at the judge, ‘Unless he's the invisible man of course.'

When it came to submissions on what, as I say, was nothing more than a minor car case, Slippery closed by saying, ‘Sir, if you find for the other side, you may as well rip up the Highway Code.' At which point he took a copy of the Code which was sitting on the table in front of him and ripped it in half.

If this were not bad enough, the judge then turned to Slippery and said, dryly, ‘That was my copy you just destroyed.'

Ouch.

It will perhaps come as no surprise to hear that despite the strength of his own evidence, he lost.

When I mentioned this later at chambers tea, TheBusker winced and said, ‘He sounds like a walking talking professional negligence action who'd do well to have someone walking in front of him waving a red flag.'

TheVamp chuckled and said, ‘Reminds me of one of those yellow signs the police put out after a crime has occurred which asks for witnesses. I once saw a blank one sitting on a pavement at Cambridge Circus. As if the area was so notoriously bad that the sign represented a crime waiting to happen.'

 

 

Wednesday 23 July 2008

Year 2 (week 43): Expert evidence

 

Obviously after the letter to the judge, BrainWasher's activities have had to stop. But this hasn't brought a halt to the proceedings, and today our main expert on the damaging effects of the mobile masts was cross-examined by UpTights. He is a consultant neurologist and everything seemed to be going swimmingly until he suddenly appeared to lose his bottle when UpTights asked, ‘Isn't it correct that the research from which you have quoted doesn't specifically deal with the same type of mobile masts as those of the defendant?'

The answer we would have expected was, ‘Well, technically that may be the case. But the subjects of the various studies are sufficiently similar for me to draw very clear conclusions as to the effects of this particular mast. Any differences there may have been were not such as to be relevant.'

Instead, what he gave us was a worried look and then, ‘Er, my Lord, would it be possible to have a short break to visit the lavatory?'

Then, on his return, when UpTights repeated the question, he appeared to crumple. ‘Er, well, yes. It's right that the studies I refer to aren't quite the same but even so, I think they're at least helpful to the court . . .'

But worse was to come. It was as if the proverbial seal had been broken and every time he was asked a difficult question he apparently felt the need to relieve himself and had to be excused to go to the gents. Even JudgeFetish commented at one point, ‘I do understand. It comes to us all in time.' Which we all took to mean, ‘Thank goodness I don't yet have prostate problems.' But the difficulty for us wasn't the loo breaks. It was the woolly answers he gave on his return which were doing us no favours at all.