"Mortimer, John Clifford - Rumpole 01 - Rumpole of the Bailey" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mortimer John)

'We was talking about the Stones concert at the Hammersmith Odeon. We'd both been to it, like. And, well... we talked about that. And then he said... Jim said... Well, he said as how he and the other blokes had done the butchers.' The conversation had now taken a nasty turn. I saw that the judge was writing industriously. 'Jim said ... that he and the other blokes ... had done the butchers.' Florrie was plying his pencil. Then he looked up at me,' Well, Mr Rumpole, is that a convenient moment to adjourn?' It was a very convenient moment for the prosecution, as the evidence against us would be the last thing the jury heard before sloping off to their homes and loved ones. It was also a convenient moment for Peanuts. He would have his second wind by the morning. So there was nothing for it but to take Nick for a cup of tea and a pile of crumpets in the ABC, and so home to She Who Must Be Obeyed.

So picture us three that evening, finishing dinner and a bottle of claret, celebrating the return of the Young Master at Hack Hall, Counsel's Castle, Rumpole Manor, or 256 Froxbury Court, Gloucester Road. Hilda had told Nick that his grandpa had sent his love and expected a letter, and also dropped me the encouraging news that old C.H. Wystan was retiring and quite appreciated that I was the senior man. Nick asked me if I was really going to be Head of Chambers, seeming to look at me with a new respect, and we drank a glass of claret to the future, whatever it might be. Then Nick asked me if I really thought Peanuts Molloy was lying.

' If he's not, he's giving a damn good imitation.' Then I told Hilda as she started to clear away, 'Nick enjoyed the case. Even though it was only a robbery. Oh, Nick ... I wish you'd been there to hear me cross-examine about the bloodstains in the "Penge Bungalow Murder".' 'Nick wasn't born, when you did the "Penge Bungalow Murder".' My wife is always something of a wet blanket. I commiserated with my son. 'Bad luck, old boy.' 'You were great with that judge!' I think Nick had really enjoyed himself.

'There was this extraordinary judge who was always talking Latin and Dad was teasing him.' 'You want to be careful,' Hilda was imposing her will on the pudding plates. 'How you tease judges. If you're to be Head of Chambers.' On which line she departed, leaving Nick and I to our claret and conversation. I began to discuss with Nick the horrifying adventure of The Speckled Band.

'You're still reading those tales, are you?' I asked Nick.

'Well... not lately.' 'But you remember. I used to read them to you, didn't I? After She had ordered you to bed.' 'When you weren't too busy. Noting up your murders.' 'And remember we were Holmes and Watson? When we went for walks in Hyde Park.' 'I remember one walk."

That was odd, as I recall it had been our custom ever at a weekend, before Nick went away to boarding school. I lit a small cigar and looked at the Great Detective through the smoke.

'Tell me, Holmes. What did you think was the most remarkable piece of evidence given by the witness Peanuts Molloy?' 'When he said they talked about the Rolling Stones.' 'Holmes, you astonish me.' 'You see, Watson. We were led to believe they were such enemies I mean, the families were. They'd never spoken.' ' I see what you're driving at. Have another glass of claret, stimulates the detective ability.' I opened another bottle, a clatter from the kitchen telling me that the lady was not about to join us.

'And there they were chatting about a pop concert. Didn't that strike you as strange, my dear Watson?' ' It struck me as bloody rum, if you want to know the truth, Holmes.' I was delighted to see Nick taking over the case.

'They'd both been to the concert... Well, that doesn't mean anything. Not necessarily ... I mean, / was at that concert.' 'Were you indeed?' 'It was at the end of the summer holidays.' ' I don't remember you mentioning it.' 'I said I was going to the Festival Hall.' I found this confidence pleasing, knowing that it wasn't to be shared with Hilda.

'Very wise. Your mother no doubt feels that at the Hammersmith Odeon they re-enact some of the worst excesses of the Roman Empire. You didn't catch sight of Peanuts and young Jimbo, did you?' 'There were about two thousand fans, all screaming.' ' I don't know if it helps ...' 'No.' 'If they were old mates, I mean. Jim might really have confided in him. All tht same, Peanuts is lying. Andrew noticed it! You've got the instinct, Nick. You've got a nose for the evidence! Your career at the Bar is bound to be brilliant.' I raised my glass to Nick. 'When are you taking silk?' Shortly after this She entered with news that Nick had a dentist's appointment the next day, which would prevent his re-appearance down the Bailey. All the same, he had given me a great deal of help and before I went to bed I telephoned Bernard the solicitor, tore him away from his fireside and instructed him to undertake some pretty immediate research.

Next morning, Albert told me that he'd had a letter from old C.H. Wystan, Hilda's Daddy, mentioning his decision to retire.

' I think we'll manage pretty well, with you, Mr Rumpole, as Head of Chambers,' Albert told me. 'There's not much you and I won't be able to sort out, sir, over a glass or two in Pommeroy's Wine Bar ... And soon we'll be welcoming Master Nick in Chambers?' 'Nick? Well, yes.' I had to admit it. 'He is showing a certain legal aptitude.' ' It'll be a real family affair, Mr Rumpole ... Like father, like son, if you want my opinion.' I remembered Albert's words when I saw Fred Timson waiting for me outside the Court. But before I had time to brood on family tradition, Bernard came up with the rolled-up poster for a pop concert. I grabbed it from him and carried it as unobtrusively as possible into Court.

'When Jim told you he'd done up the butchers ... He didn't tell you the date that that had happened?' Peanuts was back, facing the bowling, and Featherstone was up to his usual tricks, rising to interrupt.

'My Lord, the date is set out quite clearly in the indictment.' The time had come, quite obviously, for a burst of righteous indignation.

'My Lord, I am cross-examining on behalf of a 16-year-old boy on an extremely serious charge. I'd be grateful if my learned friend didn't supply information which all of us in Court know, except for the witness.' 'Very well. Do carry on, Mr Rumpole.' I was almost beginning to like Mr Justice Everglade.

'No. He never told me when, like. I thought it was sometime in the summer.' Peanuts tried to sound co-operative.

'Sometime in the summer? Are you a fan of the Rolling Stones, Peanuts?' 'Yes.' 'Remind me ... they were ...' Still vaguely puzzled the judge was hunting back through his notes.

Sleek as a butler with a dish of peas, Featherstone supplied the information. 'The musicians, my Lord.' 'And so was Jim a fan?' I ploughed on, ignoring the gentleman's gentleman.

'He was. Yes.' 'You had discussed music, before you met in the Remand Centre?' ' Before the Nick. Oh yes.' Peanuts was following me obediently down the garden path.

'You used to talk about it at school?' 'Yes.' 'In quite a friendly way?' I was conscious of a startled Fred Timson looking at his son, and of Jim in the dock looking, for the first time, ashamed.

'We was all right. Yes.' 'Did you ever go to a concert with Jimbo? Please think carefully.' 'We went to one or two concerts together.' Peanuts conceded.

'In the evening?' 'Yes.' 'What would you do?... Call at his home and collect him?' 'You're joking!' ' Oh no, Peanuts. In this case I'm not joking at all!' No harm, I thought, at that stage, in underlining the seriousness of the occasion.

'Course I wouldn't call at his home!' 'Your families don't speak. You wouldn't be welcomed in each other's houses?' 'The Montagues and the Capulets, Mr Rumpole?' The old sweetheart on the bench had finally got the message. I gave him a bow, to show my true love and affection.

' If your Lordship pleases... Your Lordship puts it extremely aptly.' I turned back to Peanuts.' So what would you do, if you were going to a concert?' 'We'd leave school together, like, and then hang around the caffs.' 'Hang around the caffs?' 'Cafoys, Mr Rumpole?' Mr Justice Everglade was enjoying himself, translating the answer.