Rumpole Misbehaves by John Mortimer Page A

and then we might come to the truth.’
    â€˜The truth about your client’s footballing?’
    â€˜And a few related matters.’
    At this Madam Chair seemed at a loss and sought the advice of her clerk, who stood up from below her. After she had enjoyed a prolonged earful, she asked, ‘What is your authority, Mr Rumpole, for saying that a statement has to be proved by a witness on oath and available for cross-examination?’
    â€˜No written authority at present. Although I gather that directions are to be given shortly.’
    â€˜Directions? By whom exactly?’
    â€˜The Minister for Constitutional Affairs.’
    â€˜In what case?’
    â€˜No case. But I know he finds it outrageous that a young child should be deprived of his liberty on charges that have never been tested by cross-examination.’
    The atmosphere in court changed rapidly. Madam Chair muttered some urgent remarks to the bookends, then she said, ‘Mr Parkes, I don’t suppose you’d object to putting Mrs Englefield in the witness box so that Mr Rumpole might ask her a few questions? It seems a fairly simple issue, but we have to take into account the view of the Minister for Constitutional Affairs.’
    â€˜No, Madam. I have no objection, if you have the time.’
    â€˜I’m afraid we do.’ Madam Chair spoke for the bookends too. ‘We can only hope that Mr Rumpole will keep it short.’
    So the witness entered the box, swore on the Bible and gave her name as Mrs Harriet Englefield and her address as 15 Beechwood Grove. She swore that since the first order was made she had seen young Peter Timson, the boy in the dock, on at least six occasions enter her quiet and secluded street in search of a football which had strayed from its proper place in Rampton Road.
    When Parkes sat down Madam Chair gave me a look of exasperation and said, ‘You may put your questions shortly, Mr Rumpole.’
    â€˜I hope to keep them short, Madam. That depends on the witness.’
    â€˜So how can I help you, Mr Rumpole?’ Mrs Englefield gave me a tolerant smile.
    â€˜Quite easily, I hope. Perhaps you could tell us why you didn’t want this little footballer hanging around your street.’
    â€˜It disturbed me.’
    â€˜Not much of a disturbance, was it? A small boy entering your road for a few minutes to retrieve a football.’
    â€˜You don’t understand, Mr Rumpole. We buy our houses in the Grove for peace and quiet. There are important people living there, doctors and a retired general who is writing a book. Then there is my aged mother, who lives with me. They all need tranquillity. And of course I need it for my work. I have a good many patients. They come to me for treatment.’
    â€˜And what sort of treatment do you give them?’
    â€˜I give spiritual healing. We sit together and think of our own spaces. Then they like to talk. They may have troubled auras and I do my best to cleanse the space around them.’
    â€˜And what are their troubles exactly?’
    â€˜Unhappy marriages or affairs. Feelings of uselessness when they have lost touch with the life force. Feelings of doubt and insecurity.’
    â€˜And I suppose,’ Madam Chair was out to help the witness, ‘you need peace and quiet for that?’
    â€˜Absolutely. I chose Beechwood Grove because it was so quiet.’
    There was a silent moment during which I considered my best form of attack. Then Madam Chair clipped in with, ‘Is that all you have to ask, Mr Rumpole?’
    â€˜Not quite all,’ I told her, and turned my attention to the witness. Then I led off with, ‘Mrs Englefield, no doubt you’ve heard of the importation of girls who pay good money to get smuggled in to the country and are set to work as prostitutes? Have you heard of that?’
    â€˜Yes.’ The witness closed her eyes in an apparent effort to remember. ‘I may have read something about