This is our truth, tell us yours
We are in the interview room. Christian looks flustered. Next to him is a small, crumpled looking man in a battered hat, who accepts a light for his small cigar from Hunt, who is smoking a cigarette.
Christian looks unhappy. He is waving his hand in front of his face, though it’s hard to tell if it’s the smell of the hat or the small cigar he dislikes most. Burnside leans forward.
BURNSIDE: Well you see Christian, we’ve decided that you can have the duty lawyer, and here you have Mr Rumpole, a fine criminal lawyer who can help you.
GREY: That’s a lawyer? Is he qualified?
RUMPOLE: You don’t have to be, dear boy, tocome and sit nextto the criminal classes in these rooms, but in my case I’m a barrister with more than fifty years experience, doing this work in my spare time to avoid She Who Must Be Obeyed. Now, shall we get down to business gentlemen? We can have this all sorted and be off to Pomeroys in a flash.
HUNT: You’re always welcome at the Railway Arms Mr Rumpole.
RUMPOLE: If the locals are to be believed DI Hunt some of your colleagues go in that place and never come out. I’ll stick with Pomeroys I think.
BURNSIDE: Enough of the social niceties gentlemen. Now, Mr Grey, you have a lawyer…
GREY: Of sorts…
BURNSIDE: Yes, a lawyer of sorts, and you have been cautioned by DI Hunt, and now we have a few questions to ask about your wife Ana.
GREY: So why should I answer them?
RUMPOLE: Ubi non accusator ibi non iudex.
GREY: Are you drunk?
RUMPOLE: Legal Latin dear boy, it means she dobbed you in, she made a statement, she grassed you up, and once they’ve got a victim they can have you before the beak.
GREY: I don’t understand this.
HUNT: What don’t you understand? Your missus fingered you for fingering her without her permission. Oh and a few added counts of slapping her around, stalking her, threatening here and being a general nonce. Comprende?
GREY: But she likes that stuff…
BURNSIDE: Did you get that in writing Mr Grey? Or did you assume it?
GREY: But I was right.
BURNSIDE: But did you care if you were right or wrong?
GREY: What’s that got to do with it?
RUMPOLE: Remember that stupid student Mr Burnside? The one we dealt with last week?
HUNT: Hee hee, I remember. Divvy.
BURNSIDE: Some more latin Mr Grey, may be relevant. Mens Rea. You see, down here, we have a funny idea that even if your wife ended up liking it, if you didn;t intend to care whether she like dit or not, you’re guilty as charged and we’ll have you in front of the judge soon as.
GREY: Is that what you did to this student?
HUNT: Nah, he was small fry compared to you. Stupid prick came home, found a bottle of wine on the steps of his halls of residence. Thought to himself, I’m having that, and just as he lifted it, Cartwright and Skelton were going past and nicked him for it.
GREY: So what, I’m not a thief.
HUNT: Shut it. Any how, we get him down here, check the label on the bottle when he’s in custody, see if it was worth drinking it before it reached lost property, and it turns out it was an early birthday present from his mum.
GREY: So you let him go?
HUNT: Nah, we lost the label. Little shit intended to nick it and didn’t know it was his. Serves the little fucker right for not caring about right and wrong, eh Mr Rumpole?
RUMPOLE: An admirable application of the principles of R vs Turner Mr Hunt.
GREY: So you ruined his life for a bottle of wine.
HUNT: What was left of it.Sometimes it’s not just the boys from Notting Hill who are well hung in the cells, eh Frank?
GREY: Oh my god…
BURNSIDE: He’s joking Christian, now, do you want to spend some more time with us or shall we get nice DCI Kellogg down to take your confession and hold your hand?
The screen shimmers as if we are about to enter another flashback.