Combination of a comfort read and something from the "M" pile - bit of a winner all round really :)
From the Blurb:
Justice isn't blind - it's just a little short-sighted and weak around the knees ...
His wig may be yellowing and his gown might be in tatters, but Rumpole will not give up the good fight - not while there's injustice to battle.
So many cases won and lost, so many small cigars smoked, so many occasions when a cold wind seemed to blow between myself and my wife, Hilda (known to me only as She Who Must Be Obeyed), so many cups of Old Bailey canteen coffee nervously consumed while waiting for a jury to come back with a verdict, so many devastating cross-examinations (the art of cross-examining is not the art of examining crossly but the gentle task of leading a witness politely into a fatal admission), so many bottles of Chateau Thames Embankment have come and gone since I was a white wig and sprang to fame for my conduct of the Penge Bungalow affair, in which I scored a win alone and without a leader, that sometimes I can't believe my luck in having had a life so relatively free of a dull moment.
Justice isn't blind - it's just a little short sighted and weak around the knees ...
His wig may be yellowing and his gown might be in tatters, but Rumpole will not give up the good fight - now while there's injustice to battle.
When a distressed Tiffany Timson (of the infamous South London clan of petty criminals) tearfully explains that her husband Dr Khan has been arrested on suspicion of terrorism, Rumpole knows that to take on this case will mean not just defending one man, but squaring up to the very notion of modern British justice.
With She Who Must be Obeyed mysteriously shutting herself away and fellow-members of his chambers just plain scared, it seems that Rumpole must stand alone against the Establishment. But that is precisely the position any defence barrister worth his salt relishes most...