by Tim Kevan
‘And anyway, you didn’t seem to mind that pretty young law student last week,’ said UpTights. ‘Getting her to spend two days, er, what was it? Oh yes, “arranging your Weekly Law Reports”.’
‘Ooh err,’ said TheVamp with a smile.
‘They get even worse than the midges as the summer goes on. It’s exactly why so many senior barristers take August off,’ said OldSmoothie soldiering on.
‘I thought it was because the High Court closes then,’ said TheVamp.
‘What, and you really think we’re going to tell the truth: that we can’t stand having self-important, jumped-up and annoying oiks pawing at us all day. I hardly think so.’
‘Maybe they actually choose August specifically to avoid having self-important, jumped-up and annoying silks pawing at them all day instead,’ said UpTights.
Thursday 10 July 2008
Year 2 (week 41): Man with a plan
So. If I leave JudgeFetish to his own devices he’ll jettison himself off the case pretty quickly and all our good work will have been to no avail. But what to do? Blackmail is clearly an option what with our knowledge of the mistress, not to mention the fact that he has fallen for BrainWasher’s tricks. But it comes with manifold difficulties, not least the risk of being sent straight to jail at even the slightest whiff of such a suggestion. But what are the other alternatives? After mulling it over for the last couple of days and without coming up with anything, I decided to go and have a chat with SlipperySlope after work.
‘Well, let’s have a look at our options,’ he said after I’d set out the problem. ‘I agree that blackmail is something of a blunt instrument, particularly if we had to implement it at such short notice. Influence is always much more preferable to force. But come on, BabyB, you’re better than this. Let’s look at it from a different perspective. Always go back to basics. What are your primary objectives in this case?’
‘To win for the clients, get paid for all our other cases . . .’ Then it dawned on me ‘. . . and to do over TopFirst. That’s it!’
‘What’s it?’ Now Slippery was behind.
‘TopFirst. It always comes back to him.’
‘How?’
But after that, I decided not to say any more. If it all goes horribly wrong then the fewer people covering their own bottoms the better. But suffice it to say, I had a plan and I rang my good friend Blagger, who not only knows his stocks from his shares but is also quite an expert with computers. We will be meeting on Friday afternoon.
Friday 11 July 2008
Year 2 (week 41): Load of old bull
‘Yes, I’m off to Pamplona this weekend to run with the bulls.’
OldSmoothie was talking about his most recent midlife crisis adventure. ‘I’ve even had my secretary set up a page about it on The Facebook,’ he said trying somehow to sound ‘down wid de kidz’ but failing miserably. ‘Everyone’s who’s anyone does that these days, you know?’
‘And I suppose you’ve also started “The Twitter” as well,’ said BusyBody sarcastically.
‘Actually, she did mention something about that. But The Facebook’s the place to be at the moment,’ he said with great authority.
‘And you intend to actually do the run, do you?’ asked TheBusker.
‘He can’t even run a bath,’ said UpTights.
‘More like a running joke,’ said BusyBody.
‘This week I’ve been out four nights running,’ said TheVamp.
‘What, around Hyde Park?’ asked TheCreep.
‘No, as I said, “out” four nights running,’ said TheVamp and gave him a sympathetic look. ‘On the tiles, Mr CweepyWeepy.’
‘And as for catching the bulls, he couldn’t even catch a bus,’ added UpTights.
‘More likely to catch a cold the speed he’d be going,’ giggled BusyBody.
Monday 14 July 2008
Year 2 (week 42): Coming clean
Well, there’s no going back now. First off, on Friday afternoon I met up with Blagger.
‘It’s funny you should have suggested meeting up, BabyB. Only last week I got a call from that solicitor lady wanting to instruct me on another case.’
‘I hope you told her you’d retired?’
‘Well, I thought that would sound a little boring so instead I told her that I’d just been appointed to be a judge. Thing is, I actually quite fancy her and want to keep this blag going until I’ve at least met up with her again, so I wondered if you could give me a bit of the lingo and low-down on well, judges.’
Inwardly I was actually relieved to hear that, for the moment at least, he had ceased to pretend to practise. I was therefore only too happy to dispense advice on how to impersonate a judge.
‘I’d go for being a Deputy District Judge,’ I said. ‘They’re the bottom of the pile and no one ever remembers them from one minute to the next and so you’re far more likely to go under the radar. Beyond that, just act as though you know everything that it is possible to know in the whole world. Shouldn’t be too difficult for you, in fact,’ I reflected. ‘Then don’t forget to mention your “brother judges” in as pompous a voice as you can possibly muster. Again, you should find that relatively easy. Beyond that, arrogance, stupidity and a complete lack of insight should just about make you the real deal.’
‘That’s perfect, BabyB. Just as I imagined actually.’
Well, helping him was hardly the most ethical thing to do, but needs must when I am in need of assistance of my own.
‘I’m in a spot of bother,’ I said, ‘and I need to make it look as if someone has sent me an email, even when they didn’t.’
‘Not at all easy, BabyB. You can always back-date emails and even some of the computer’s records but if an expert were to get his hands on it they’d suss it out very soon.’
This was exactly what I had feared. I grilled Blagger on various aspects of computers and their records and then I saw him off and wished him luck with his solicitor.
After that I rang a lady called Ginny, who I hired last year to act as a honeytrap for TopFirst. She is a rather attractive student who does a little moonlighting on the side. This assignment, however, would be a little easier than her last.
‘Ginny, I’d like to hire you to send an email from an internet café.’
‘Why do you need me to do that?’ she asked.
I explained that it was part of my plan to bring down TopFirst.
‘What, that little toad again? BabyBarista, it’d be my pleasure.’
I then went on to explain the risks that might be involved.
‘Risk is something I’ve become used to in my working life. One minute things can be rosy, the next you can be in all sorts of trouble. It’s exactly what allows me to charge a premium. I’m sure as a lawyer you understand that concept very well.’
She was certainly right on that score. There were many parallels between her job and mine beyond them being the world’s two oldest professions. Finally, I arranged for a letter to be hand-delivered to JudgeFetish at the high court. It was typed on plain paper and as far as I could tell there were no distinguishing features that could in any way lead back to me. The letter said simply:
You have been the victim of a plot to brainwash you into thinking that you have suffered injury as a result of mobile phone waves. It is merely a ruse by the claimants’ lawyers to win you over. You must find against the claimants. Do not think about withdrawing from the case because if you do then this will all come out in the press and you will have to admit how easily you were improperly influenced by one of the parties to the litigation.
Now I just have to hope that this will at least hold him off from withdrawing from the case.
Tuesday 15 July 2008
Year 2 (week 42): Crackington Haven
Oh, the important things we all get up to whilst sitting around in chambers waiting for our briefs to arrive. Yesterday afternoon a few of us were waiting in the clerks room gossiping.
‘What are you up to this week?’ I asked Th
eVamp.
‘I’m going to Crackington Haven, near Bude, on Thursday for a long weekend,’ she said.
‘I don’t know whether it’s just because you’re saying it, but that just sounds rude,’ said TheBusker smiling, before adding, ‘and now, that place will be forever etched in my mind as associated with you.’
‘Don’t forget it’s just down the coast from Welcome Mouth, too,’ said OldSmoothie.
BusyBody laughed and joined in, ‘Well, I’d take Giggleswick,’ given the choice.
‘Or Wittering,’ said TheCreep.
‘Snig’s End for you,’ TheVamp said in response, ‘or how about Mumbles or even better Little Snoring?’
‘Yes and Madchute for the stretched one,’ said OldSmoothie. ‘Or Cockermouth, perhaps?’ he added, smugly. ‘Though I once visited a place called Clenchwarton. Now that really does fit, wouldn’t you say?’
‘You’d be something like Bishop’s Itchington or Mold,’ BusyBody retorted.
‘More like Six Mile Bottom or Nether Wallop,’ said UpTights. ‘Or Lord Hereford’s knob,’ she added.
‘Tutt’s Clump, Upper Chute or Lickey End for you, UpTights. If you’re lucky. Though if you’re not, there’s always Fiddlers Elbow.’
‘The Lizard,’ said UpTights in reply as the conversation plummeted.
‘Isle of Dogs,’ he retorted.
‘Nob’s Crook,’ she said.
‘Cock Alley,’ he replied, looking extremely pleased with himself.
‘Then of course there’s always the infamous place in the Shetlands that sounds quite like, well, twit,’ said BusyBody directing her gaze to OldSmoothie.
At which point OldRuin appeared from the other side of the room and dispersed any tension with, ‘I’ve always liked the sound of Melbury Bubb myself. Makes me think of the most delicious kind of summer pudding.’
Wednesday 16 July 2008
Year 2 (week 42): Judges’ Zoo
The more time goes on the more work I appear to be doing whilst I’m in court. Not court work that is, but anything else that needs doing. Let’s face it, there’s a lot of twiddling your thumbs during court hearings, which until recently was just lost time. But with the joys of the internet I now manage to go through all my emails and if it’s a full day in court I also tend to draft a couple of sets of proceedings. It’s much easier even than last year, when we all had to fiddle with our BlackBerrys under the table. This year someone came up with the bright idea of simply pretending to take notes of the hearing on the laptop whilst connecting it to the internet with one of those dongle things. So for anyone who’s been to court recently and has wondered why the baby Bar is suddenly keenly typing notes on every small claim, now you know.
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.
