Kavanagh QC (1995) s05e04 Episode Script

End Game

one for the master and one for the dame And one for the little boy who lives down the lane BOY: No, it goes Baa baa, black sheep, I haven't any wool GIRL: Baa baa, white sheep, have you any wool? No, sir, no, sir Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall .
one for the master and one for the dame And one for the little boy who lives down the lane (Children all speak at once) (Explosion) (Firework squeals) (Fireworks crackle and pop) Oh, look! Oh, wow! Look at that.
Look at that go.
GIRLS: Ah! - Does anybody need the toilet? GIRLS: No, miss.
- Me, miss.
- Come on, Ben.
He had too many beans! (Blows raspberry) - At the fireworks.
- Yes.
Thank you.
That's enough.
(Firework screeches) Now! Lie down! Let's go! (Lorry horn blares) Keys! You're not going near those children-.
I'm pregnant.
Give us the keys to that bloody minibus now.
Kevin? (Panicked breaths) (Gunshot) Go! Come on, you! Miss? (Children scream) - Kevin, come on! (Dog barks) (Fireworks bang) Go on! Go on! Go on! (Dog barks) (Gunshot, dog yelps) (Fireworks continue to squeal and bang) JUDGE: Janice Burton was a dedicated and much-loved teacher, soon to know the joys of motherhood.
Young Ben Palmer was a child who brightened the lives of all those who knew him.
Words are inadequate to express the revulsion that must be felt by all right-minded people at this disgusting crime.
You have been found guilty of their callous murder.
Kevin John Fowler I take into account, for what it's worth, the fact that you pleaded guilty and cooperated to a significant extent with the police investigation.
Nevertheless, you fired the gun that took those innocent lives, one of which, it is hard to credit, belonged to a woman who tried to teach you the difference between right and wrong, when, as a boy, you sat in her classroom.
I sentence you to a term of imprisonment for life, with the recommendation that you serve a minimum of 23 years.
Take him down.
Neil Paul Hastings, I sentence you to imprisonment for life, with the recommendation that you serve a minimum of 15 years.
I didn't do it.
Take him down.
James Gerald Cracken I sentence you to imprisonment for life, with the recommendation that you serve a minimum of 15 years.
I wasn't there, you bastard! My cousin stitched my up.
- Kevin stitched me up! - Take him down.
I wasn't there! I wasn't there! - (Remembers) I wasn't there- TOM: Sir? Sorry, Tom.
I was miles away.
Years away.
Mr Dallimore, the outdoor clerk for Rothstein's, instructing you on the Cracken appeal.
- Show him in.
- Right.
Mr Foxcott? Oh.
Comes out of hospital this afternoon.
- Oh, he can't be too bad, then.
- Fingers crossed, eh? Mr Dallimore.
How are you, Mr Kavanagh? I know you.
13 years back, I was a DC.
Detective Constable Dallimore.
- You were involved in this case.
- Give the man a stick of rock.
When did you leave the force? You're showing your age, Mr Kavanagh.
The Police Service.
18 months ago.
It comes in handy doing a bit of outdoor clerking and Mr Rothstein likes having an ex-copper on his strength.
For the odd bit of sniffing around.
Well, it's very good to see you again.
Ah, Miss Miller.
I've got a confirmed date for the appeal.
Er The 17th.
Mr Kavanagh's got the details.
And thank you, Tom.
- For? - Delaying tactics.
I gather Jeremy Aldermarten was after me for his junior in the case.
Well, I do believe he mentioned something.
But I thought you'd be better off with a more experienced man.
You're an appeal virgin, aren't you, miss? It will be my first, yes, Tom.
Let's hope it's one I shall always remember.
Weft, you?! find things a bit different.
People pretending to be on the same side, all pulling together to get to the truth.
Bollocks, of course, but Well, that's the theory.
(Phone rings) - How's it going with James? - Fine.
Thank you, Jeremy.
He's wonderful with juries.
Second to none.
Well, almost.
- But appeals? A very different kettle of fish.
- So I'm told.
Yes, that's more Oxbridge tutorial than redbrick debating society.
Still, never mind, Arthur-Martha.
We all draw the short straw sometimes.
- Do you remember the case well? - Not something you'd forget.
I didn't shed any tears for Kevin Fowler when he topped himself.
A vicious little scrote.
He must have had a conscience, though, to admit he'd lied about Jimmy Cracken being there.
It's only his suicide note that got Jimmy his appeal.
They've had that note for six years.
Drag their feet, don'! they? Two Home Secretaries to the right of Genghis Khan and a decent one in between, who got sacked before he could take up the case.
That's all it took, till the appeal system changed.
The notes your only fresh evidence, Mr Rothstein said.
Yes, I'm also far from certain Cracken got the best defence he could.
That's something I may have to raise.
At least you weren't in the driving seat.
DALLIMORE: It was that smarmy silk.
Tibbit, was it? KAVANAGH: Sir Ronald.
The last of a dying breed, thank God.
DALLIMORE: King of the castle, though.
[Mind you, so was Arthur Hanks, my DC].
He'd rob a shilling off a blind man and then kick his dog.
Still, mustn't speak ill of the dead.
Detective Chief Inspector Hanks, are you making all this up? This alleged conversation with James Cracken while he was having his fingerprints taken.
Certainly not, sir.
You see, when I call my client, he will deny, under oath, that he made any admission of guilt to you.
Are you familiar with the term "verbal", as in the phrase, "He verballed me up"? I have heard the term.
I believe it refers to the practice of putting words into a suspect's mouth.
But We no personal experience of "It.
Why didn't you ask the judge to rule on the Herbals, even if it meant a retrial? Worry ye not, James.
He'll tell the jury to ignore them.
Tibbit should never have let the Crown introduce the Herbals in the first place and when they did, he should have asked the judge to rule them inadmissible.
And Jimmy never did get the chance to deny them in front of the jury, did he? He changed his mind about going into the box.
Why was that? That's something I've got to ask him.
It's always worried me.
So, if you could talk to Mr Rothstein about a prison visit (Knock at door) Sorry, James.
When you've a moment? Yes, Jeremy, I'll be along.
(Door closes) Mr Aldermarten's for the other appellant, Neil Hastings.
You can put your heads together.
It doesn't quite work like that.
- Do you catch my drift? - I'm not sure I do.
- Kevin Fowler's suicide note.
- What about it? It fails to mention my client Hastings.
Fowler takes his own life after seven years inside.
Before doing so, sets the record straight about his cousin Cracks-n, but signally fails to clear Neil Hastings.
The court will wonder why.
They might, Jeremy, but I'm sure you'll grasp the nettle.
You've got your lorry driver, anyway.
Isn't that enough for you? Possibly, if he convinces the court about the identification parade.
But your note, it's really not doing me any favours.
I mean, do you really have to introduce "rt? You're damn right I do.
It exonerates my client.
If the court accepts it as credible evidence- It's not very likely, in my opinion-.
It's not your opinion that counts.
Anyway, if you're so sure they'll rule it's inadmissible, what's your beef? They'll have to disregard it.
Come off "It, James.
They'll have heard the wretched thing.
And whilst I have the greatest respect for the jurisprudential excellence of Lady Justice Pinnock and their Lordships, it could well leave me right up the Swanee without a paddle.
Tough! It's hard enough without Jeremy playing the prima donna.
He'll get over it.
What was Sir Ronald Tibbit like? Brilliant, when he was young.
They said.
They always do.
But by then Cavalier.
An anachronism.
And a lazy old sod, not to put too fine a point on it.
Couldn't you have said something? "Leaders are there to lead.
" End of story, as far as the Bar's concerned.
Would you tell me, if I was doing a lousy job? Like a shot.
Easy to say.
Or have a word with someone - the solicitor, the Bar Yes, I know what I should have done, Martha, but I didn't.
I didn't mean to I'm not exactly proud of it.
- James.
- Eleanor.
May I introduce you to Felipe Arrabal? James Kavanagh.
- Hello.
- Mr Kavanagh.
- Martha Miller.
- Miss Miller.
Well, we'll leave you to it.
That'll save on the soap.
- Sorry? - I won't wash it for a week.
He is rather (Clears throat) Don't you think? If you say so.
You're a very persuasive man, Felipe.
And you, Eleanor, are you a woman who is persuadable? - When are you back in London? - Ten days or so.
I'll give it serious consideration, I promise.
- Innocent man! - That's enough.
You've made your point.
- You've had your fun, now get back in.
- The two of us.
You're making it worse for yourselves.
You want us to come up there and get you off the hard way? Today's incident is the latest in a series of protests, including a hunger strike last year, by James Cracken and Neil Hastings, convicted in 1986 for their part in the double murder that shocked the nation.
In refusing to refer the case back to the Court Of Criminal Appeal, the Home Secretary stated yesterday that he saw no reason to reach a different conclusion from that of his predecessors.
James Cracken's solicitor, Bernard Rothstein, is with me now.
Mr Rothstein, will the fight to clear your client's name continue and are you optimistic? Oh, I'm very optimistic.
When, at last, the Criminal Cases Review Commission comes into being, these things will no longer be subject to the whim of politicians and the Home Office.
At 4:30 this afternoon, the prison authorities moved in to end the protest.
After a brief struggle, the men were taken back to their cells.
It's believed they're now being questioned in relation to possible offences of criminal damage.
Get my legs! Don't let go of me! Look, you've asked for this, mate.
Come on.
(Martha sighs) These places ROTHSTEIN: It's a double bind.
Shout your innocence from the rooftops and you kiss goodbye to the chance of parole, but admit to your guilt, even if you didn't do it, and it's "much rejoicing at a sinner who repenteth".
Pre-release rehab classes and out you go.
- Right, Mr Kavanagh? - In a nutshell.
Still cosy with your mate, Sir Ronald? He died three years ago.
Rest in bleeding peace, I'm sure.
Jimmy, we talked about this.
I know.
I know.
Shouldn't blame the monkey cos the organ grinder made a f - A balls of it? - Yeah.
Anyway Bernie says you're the best now.
So, water under the bridge? We'll walk it, won't we? What with Kevin's note, saying he stitched me up.
It's er not quite that simple.
It never bloody is.
The court might decide, once they've heard the suicide note, that it's not proper evidence, that they can't hear it as a ground for appeal.
You what? They have to hear it before they can decide if they can hear it? It sounds strange, I know, Mr Cracken.
Alice In Sodding Wonderland you lot live in.
Kevin Fowler said he stitched me up.
What else do they need? And he says why.
Cos he knew I was giving his Teresa one.
HALLIWELL: Turning now to James Cracken's alibi.
The witness, Teresa Stinton, stated that she had been with Cracken in his house - in his bed, to be exact - during the time that the robbery was taking place.
Now, her claim that she was having a sexual relationship with Cracken is however contradicted by Kevin Fowler, her common-law husband.
Even if she is telling the truth about this relationship, you may feel that for the mother of an 18-month-old baby to indulge in an illicit and clandestine affair of this nature speaks volumes as to her general character and, in particular, to the value she places upon integrity, honesty.
But that is something you must decide.
He had her down as a lying old slag or whatever.
Are you still in touch with Teresa? She done a bunk, when I lost my first appeal, with Kev's kid.
She could be in Timbuktu, for all I know.
Or care? I was only her bit on the side.
She done all right by me in the box.
She told the truth.
Now I don'! give a monkey's.
I can't.
It's not just your freedom that goes when you're in here for something you didn't do.
It's room for anything else in here.
Why did you change your mind about giving evidence? It could have made all the difference.
You know why.
I was told not to.
Sorry, Mr Cracken? I was up for it, but you said it wasn't any use, not worth it.
- I did? - Well, not you, as such, the organ grinder.
Mr Rothstein was given all the case papers from your then solicitors.
There's a full record of all the advice, all the conferences with us.
Tibbit came to see me on his tod, the day before I was due in the box.
KAVANAGH: If he's right - I'll get George Dallimore onto it.
- Good.
Thank you, Mr Rothstein.
I'll drop you off at the station.
It's getting to you, this appeal, isn't it? Don't try telling me my job, Martha.
Do you know, if I was wearing sensible shoes, I'd walk to the station.
I'm sorry.
I've got a lot on my mind.
HANDEL: Coronation Anthem No.
1: Zadok The Priest (Car door opens and shuts) (Bell tinkles) He won't hear you.
Eleanor! Come on in, James.
The wretched man won't stay in bed.
CHOIR: Zadok It was a transient, ischaemic attack.
What my doctor insists on calling "a mini stroke".
But you're all right? Just a gentle warning, he says.
OK'? One's mortality.
Eleanor's fussing a bit.
Well, of course she is, Peter.
How's your Eleanor, Miss Harker? As busy as ever.
I didn't mean professionally, James.
She's fine.
We're fine.
A marvellous woman, Eleanor.
A wonderful wife.
Er mine, I meant.
Still No thoughts in that direction? You'll be the first to know, Peter.
Very therapeutic making bonfires.
I never have the time now.
I'd like to again.
I've decided to retire, James.
Peter, you said it wasn't serious.
It's not.
This time.
But if I don't need to work, then the doctors say I'll be doing myself no favours by slogging on.
The occasional lecture, maybe, but I've decided.
So River Court will need a new Head Of Chambers.
I can offer my congratulations, James.
I hope.
(Soundtrack drowns out conversation) (Seagulls cry) DALLIMORE: I like to give it a lick of paint this time of year, before winter sets in.
I'm not holding you up, am I? Of course not.
Perfect timing.
Mr Rothstein said you'd be down.
Marjorie's ginger cake? - Go on.
- No.
Not for me.
Thanks, Mr Dallimore.
Now I managed to get a look at the Crown Court cell records.
The archivist is an old mate of mine.
July 4th, 1986.
Interview room one.
Prisoner: James Cracken.
Sir Ronald Tibbit, Mr Kavanagh, Mr Brown.
The original solicitor.
July 7th.
Interview room one.
Prisoner: James Cracken.
Tibbit, Kavanagh, Brown.
July 9th.
Holding cell.
Prisoner: James Cracken.
Just Sir Ronald Tibbit.
Like Jimmy told you.
And the next morning, he changed his mind about giving evidence.
By the way.
I almost forgot.
I found an address for Cracken's alibi witness, Teresa Stinton.
Still quite local, as it happens.
Mr Rothstein wants me to go and see her in the morning, sound her out.
Well, it's worth a try, if she's got something new, fresh.
I didn't realise.
Back to London? Not yet.
We thought we'd make a weekend of it.
Oh? Down with the wife? (Chuckles) No, I'm a widower.
But I am "seeing someone", as they say.
Raffish, Brighton.
Raffish? Don't you think? A bit naughty.
In a nice way.
A twinkle-in-the-eye son of a place.
As a matter of fact, I've always thought of you as somewhat raffish.
Get off! Have you? By the way, Martha Miller was a bit smitten with your Ser'1orArrabal.
Was she? A client? No.
Just someone who wanted to pick my brains.
When will Peter go public about retiring? He's asked me to keep it under my hat, for the moment.
Till he knows if you want to take over as Head Of Chambers? Yeah.
Do you? Nothing I want less.
I'm not sure I could do the job, apart from anything else.
The politicking, the diplomacy, the wisdom.
Peter can do that with a glass of sherry and a few quiet words.
Tell him, then.
He'd be very disappointed.
That's hardly a good reason for taking it on.
I owe that man a lot.
I just never thought I'd be put on the spot so soon.
Life's full of surprises.
BARREL ORGAN: Give My Regards To Broadway Who knows what the fates have in store, hm? (Kavanagh chuckles) - Just for fun? - I'll wait for you.
TV: as the river is swollen and discoloured, the choice of fly is guided by the need for a bit of colour.
A Bloody Butcher should induce a take from the languid trout.
A weight-forward, slow-sinking line helps counter these windy conditions and delivers the fly down to the fish.
(Knock at door) Casting upstream brings the fly down with the current.
A fairly quick retrieve takes up the slack and draws the bait across the river - Hello.
- Jeremy! How very nice.
We were just about to have tea.
(Front door closes) - (sighs) TV: the key to success in these conditions is perseverance (Sighs heavily) Great success.
Great success.
But also Yes, I thought so.
You're troubled.
A We.
Quite a lot, actually.
About a man.
Your husband.
Not your husband, dear, but someone very, very close.
And there's travel.
A journey.
But you don't want to hurt the man.
Well? - Total crap.
- (Laughs) Do you want a yellow one or a white one? I'll have one of those green ones, actually-.
So, that's what you might call "a mini stroke", to coin a phrase.
To coin a phrase.
And And And everything is in erm working order? Er yes, Jeremy.
Well, as! said You know, I just thought I'd drop in, as I found myself so close.
Well, I'd better be going to this thing that I'm going to in in erm Pep Pep wor Petworth.
That's the place.
I'll see you out.
Oh, and thank you so much for the book.
- Oh, you're welcome.
- Oh.
Listen To Your Stress? Yes.
I found it pretty helpful, Peter.
Made you the man you are today? - Bye, Jeremy.
- Bye.
TV: that was the last in the present series of Fly Fishing in Scottish Rivers.
Next week, we begin a new What on earth did you make of that? Jeremy's never been a dropper-in.
I rather think it's time to make my decision official.
"For which of you will stop the vent of hearing when loud rumour speaks?" Ah.
Certainly not Jeremy.
(Chuckles) ELEANOR: You'll miss him dreadfully, won't you? Yes, I will.
But I wasn't thinking about Peter.
Us? Yeah.
Me, too.
You first.
I love being with you.
I adore our weekends together.
I just don't know that it's enough.
You? Much the same.
So, where do we go? Closer? Some son of - Permanence? - I tried marriage once, James.
It didn't work.
So did I.
And it did.
I've got used now to just having myself to please.
I like it.
I haven't.
And I don't.
So, here we are, at a plateau.
Terribly flat plateaus.
Friends? Oh, always.
But that's it? Probably.
I'm not sure.
I Wasn't it in the crystal ball? Go on.
What did she say? A tall, dark, handsome stranger? Oh, six, at least! Make do with me for tonight.
Is your mum in? Teresa? Thanks.
Yeah? Good morning.
Teresa Stinton? Who are you, then? I'm from Rothstein Solicitors.
We're preparing an appeal.
For Jimmy Cracken.
I'm not getting involved.
I said all I could say last time.
Hang on, Teresa.
All I want to do is just go over what you said last time.
Who is it? Jimmy's appeal.
You're Cliff Luscombe.
And? Goodbye.
Don'! come back.
James Kavanagh.
Lady Tibbit is expecting me.
You're from Bolton? Looked you up.
In Haver's.
Yes, I am.
I don't know Bolton.
Chester It's not that far.
Very good racing at Chester.
I don't follow the horses, Lady Tibbit.
Well, I can see no reason why you shouldn't borrow Ronnie's old notebooks, if I can dig them out.
Thank you very much.
- It might be helpful.
- An appeal, you said.
- Murder? - Yes.
He'll have done it, of course.
Will he'? One assumes.
They usually have.
That's what Ronnie used to say.
Even when he was defending? Oh, especially when he was defending.
HI get the girl to fetch his books.
Would you? Spinning in his grave now, I daresay.
Solicitors doing barristers' jobs.
And the barristers? All colours.
All sexes.
Can? be very jolly for you, any more.
Martha, have you got any doctors in your family? No.
Why? I thought you might be good on terrible handwriting.
All very cosy.
Fowler's boy, the boy's mum, Teresa Stinton, and Clifford Francis Luscombe.
Now runs nightclubs, six of 'em, from Brighton to Bournemouth.
Sweaty, noisy and very profitable.
Legitimate? A hefty VAT penalty once, but Customs And Excise hadn't got enough to prosecute.
What interested us was the drugs.
Could never prove it, but he rakes it in.
Turning a blind eye to the drug dealers in his clubs.
As tong as he gets his cut.
Back then, though, he was much more hands-on.
We brought him in as a suspect.
[I picked him up myself with Arthur Hanks, my DC].
We already had Hastings and Fowler in custody with enough to charge them on.
Hastings was ID'd by the lorry driver.
Take your time, Mr Wilkie.
No need.
Quite sure of that, are you? 100%.
And we had good forensic from Fowler's gun, but they were both keeping shtoom about who was with them.
(Banging on cell door) Let me out! I want to talk! I have no idea what you're talking about.
Wouldn't be the first time, would it? I'm not with you, Mr Hanks.
You and Neil Hastings.
Good mates, aren't you? DALLIMORE: Luscombe was a known associate of Hastings.
He'd done a couple of petrol stations in the past.
We reckoned him for the third man, until we got word that Fowler wanted to drop Jimmy Cracken in it.
George coffees, eh? You might just have got lucky, Clifford.
3 you play your cards, right.
Anything I can do to help, Mr Hanks.
- End of an era, sir.
- Yes.
Still, we'll be in the safe hands of Mr Kavanagh, eh? I'm not with you, Tom.
Well, the new Head Of Chambers.
It's a foregone conclusion.
Surely? Tom have you never hankered after a new broom? I don't think I like Sir Ronald.
Found it.
Can you make that out? July 9th.
Saw client.
We are not Double underlined.
Giving evidence.
Then 8 Cup.
Bantry Lad.
MARTHA: 500.
HALLIWELL: I had hoped, members of the jury, that we would have progressed somewhat further by this time.
Thank you for your forbearance, in what is proving to be a somewhat lengthier prosecution case than was anticipated.
Adjourned, then, until Monday at 10:30.
CLERK: All rise.
I thought they'd be done and dusted today.
The stewards come on Thursday, too.
Glorious bloody Goodwood.
A day at the races instead of putting his client in front of the jury.
And Cracken ends up getting 15 years in a stinking jail.
TOM: A big brown-trouser day for two of our lot.
Mr Kavanagh and Mr Aldermarten.
That one.
Making noises about going for Head Of Chambers.
Well, not if I can help it.
He'd be about as suited as a one-legged man in an arse-kicking contest.
Mr Kavanagh? May it please Your Ladyship, I appear with Ms Miller for the appellant, James Cracken.
My learned friend Mr Aldermarten appears with Mr Zarif for the appellant Neil Hastings.
My learned friend Ms Brewster, with Ms Trenton, appears for the Crown as respondent.
My first ground of appeal, should you agree to admit it, concerns the note written by Kevin Fowler shortly before his suicide in prison.
We got 16 years to go and I can't I can'! do "rt.
It's got to be like this.
Jimmy weren't there.
He took Teresa off me and I wanted to get back at him.
Sony, Jimmy.
I can'! say who it was, but Jimmy weren't there.
On my little boy's life.
I would ask you to admit this note as cogent evidence, albeit from beyond the grave.
Evidence? In essence.
From a man who knew he was going to die and had nothing to lose by telling the truth.
Ms Brewster? I'm obliged to Your Ladyship, although I suspect my lord Mr Justice Gelder has anticipated my point.
This note is hardly cogent evidence.
It is not a sworn statement.
It could not be tested under cross-examination, even were Kevin Fowler alive.
If he was alive, there wouldn't be a note, for God's sake.
He may have had many motives for saying what he did.
Now, Mr Aldermarten.
My learned friend has shot my fox.
I was about to make the same point.
They're not going to go for it, are they? We take the view that this note should be the subject of further deliberation.
In the meantime, we're prepared to admit it on a provisional basis only.
I'm obliged to Your Ladyship.
Can we move on? It is with some considerable regret that I raise my next ground of appeal.
Which is that the conduct of the appellant James Cracken's defence fell below, well below the minimum standard consistent with his right to justice.
MR JUSTICE GELDER: One moment, Mr Kavanagh I'm not mistaken, am I, that you, yourself, were Junior Defence Counsel at the trial? You are not mistaken, my lord.
I was.
Thank you.
The appellant's defence was led by Sir Ronald Tibbit.
That is, the late Sir Ronald Tibbit Queen's Counsel, subsequently a High Court judge and, until his untimely death, the Lord Justice of this court? The very same, my lord.
Oh, do continue, Mr Kavanagh.
I'd have to consider my position very carefully, sir.
And then leave.
The Head Of Chambers sets the tone.
That's the way I see it and Well, I don't like Mr Aldermarten's tone-.
I know he'd chase the money, all right, and, obviously, that's something I'm not adverse to.
But there's our reputation to consider and mine.
I can't compel Mr Kavanagh to take over, Tom.
Though I've made it clear I'd dearly like him to.
Well if he doesn't, River Court's going to get stuck with a.
I was Hermione's junior once, Her Ladyship, in an appeal.
A marvellous grasp of precedent.
You know, she started at 1215.
Not the time, the year.
With the Magna Carta.
It was well into the second day before she reached the 20th century.
We didn't expect them to jump up and down with joy, Mr Kavanagh, having you criticise one of their own-.
If I'd kicked up a fuss 13 years ago, maybe Oh, hindsight.
I can't hold back now.
You see, when I call my client, he will deny, under oath, that he made any admission of guilt to you.
Are you familiar with the term "verbal", as in the phrase, "He verballed me up"? I have heard the term.
I believe it refers to the practice of putting words into a suspect's mouth.
But I've no personal experience of it.
No further questions.
LADY JUSTICE PINNOCK: And what would you have done, Mr Kavanagh? I hope I wouldn't have let things get that far, my lady.
The proper approach, 1 submit, would have been to warn the Crown not to open the alleged confession made outside the rules of the Police And Criminal Evidence Act to the jury until the judge had ruled on it.
MR JUSTICE GELDER: I'd be obliged for your help here.
If you were convinced that Sir Ronald's approach was so improper, why didn't you bring it to someone's attention at the time, through the usual channels? The only answer I can give is that I didn't.
I care desperately about this.
I was hoping you might be able to find the right words.
Peter, I'm not sure it's my place, anymore.
- (sighs) - Things are about to change for me.
Once the jury had heard the alleged confession, Sir Ronald, in my submission, should have strongly advised James Cracken to go into the witness box and deny it himself.
Instead, for whatever reason, he advised him not to.
The impression Cracker: may have made on the jury in relation to the confession and to his alibi might well have affected their verdict.
It would certainly have made a difference to Mr Justice Halliwell's summing up.
In content, if not in tone.
The defendant, James Cracken, chose, after all, not to go into the witness box and answer questions from Counsel.
Now, if any of you happen to be thinking, "Why doesn't he want to give his side of the story? He's accused of this terrible crime, says he didn't do it, but won't explain himself," then I must warn you to put such thoughts from your mind.
It is his absolute right, enshrined in law, just to stay in the dock there and say, in effect, 'You say I did this thing, do you? Well, you can jolly well go on and prove ll, then, if you think you can.
' That is his right.
KAVANAGH: So I ask this court, first, to determine that the suicide note is relevant and admissible and speaks the truth.
Secondly, irrespective of your ruling on the note, to find, on our other ground, that the conviction of the appellant, James Cracken, is unsafe and should be quashed.
Thank you, Mr Kavanagh.
Monday at 11:00, when we will hear Mr Aldermarten.
Court rise.
There have been murmurings in Chambers about the need for a younger man.
Have there? How would you feel, hypothetically, of course, about a dynamic, erudite, tough, yet sensitive, Head Of Chambers? Ecstatic.
Really? Any ideas? I assume, then, I could count on your support? - Careful, Jeremy.
- What is it? A low-flying pig.
Did she say why? I'll get back to you.
Teresa Stinton wants to see us after all.
A bit late in the day.
- About what? - She won't say.
And she and Clifford Luscombe are going away tomorrow afternoon.
(Mutters to himself) (Sighs) Well, that was a bundle of laughs.
I liked it.
A miserable lot, the Hungarians.
It was Polish.
Too much like hard work, whatever it was.
a crick in the neck.
- Don't be so grumpy.
- I'm not grumpy.
I just found it hard to follow.
Enigmatic, yes.
Pan of the charm.
Well, I like to know what's going on.
- Where shall we eat? - My place.
And a video.
Yugoslavian, I'm afraid.
Son of.
TV REPORTER: The forest is only 2km from the sports stadium, where, according to villagers, some 90 men and boys were imprisoned at the outset of the fighting, never to be seen again.
(Stops video) I prosecuted a war criminal.
I remember.
At least these witnesses will have fresh memories.
How long would it be for? Two years.
That's what Felipe would like.
Where does he fit in, exactly? High-powered personnel officer, I suppose.
United Nations special recruitment.
I'd be senior prosecutor, pan of a team, excellent backup.
But? A 75% drop in income and the risk of being forgotten over here.
Well, it's not that far, The Hague.
I meant, professionally.
Violation of the customs and laws of war.
Crimes against humanity.
It's big stuff.
It's what I need, James.
I think.
You should do it.
They'll be lucky to have you.
Thank you.
And you're right, it's not that far.
What about your decision? Oh, I'm still in two minds.
Maybe I should leave the field open for Jeremy.
He's younger.
He's a moderniser.
Perhaps that's what River Court needs now.
It needs heart, not just a business plan.
I'm Bernard Rothstein.
Mr Kavanagh.
- You know George Dallimore.
- We've had the odd run-in.
Still barking up the wrong trees, George? Still climbing them, Clifford? Where's Teresa? I can speak for her.
She'd like you to keep the boy out of it.
She doesn't want his name being dragged up in court.
Is that it? Where are you taking her? Over to Jersey for a fortnight.
I've got a little place.
I used to have an old sloop.
Look her over, if you like.
Why are we here? (Dog whines) A bit of a shock, being doorstepped by Mr Dallimore.
He'd have told you of that mistake, when I was brought in for questioning.
Before Kevin Fowler gave his statement about Jimmy.
Well? Best to let sleeping dogs lie, eh? Please, Mr Kavanagh.
It's a turn of phrase.
They're arthritic.
The bills.
A good vet sets you back as much as a brief, these days.
(Hooter) When Kevin got sent down, I promised him I'd see his boy all right.
Very generous of you.
Which meant I saw a lot of Teresa.
One thing led to another We're very happy, the three of us.
Kevin's suicide note didn't identify the real third man.
It just said it wasn't Jimmy.
If that's what you want to know.
I imagine he didn't want to bite the hand that was feeding his child.
Imagination is one thing.
Evidence is something else.
Sheer bloody arrogance! He just wanted to sound us out, make sure he was in the clear.
At least I now know for sure, my client's innocent.
- A bit of a luxury.
- Or a burden.
WOMAN: That's a lovely one of Arthur, isn't it? I don't remember you and Arthur with a dog.
No, it belonged to a friend.
Hm (Glasses clink) You haven't dropped by for a long while, George.
You know how it is.
You're the only one that bothers.
This is new.
- Very nice, May.
- I always fancied one.
You see more of the garden.
I do a lot to it, since he's gone.
Well, I say me Did you have a lot of holidays with Cliff Luscombe when Arthur retired? That is Jersey, isn't it, in the photo? The Battle Of The Flowers.
He was very good to us, Clifford.
Had a heart of gold.
He was a bit of a rough diamond, but when you got to know him As Arthur obviously did.
As far as I'm aware, Clifford was never convicted of anything serious.
He led a charmed life, didn't he? I could never work it out.
(Lawnmower hums) I knew DCls got a fair whack, but A damn sight more than you, George Dallimore.
But a bit extra always came in handy, I bet.
No matter who it was from.
Get out of my house.
Go on.
Shoo! Get out.
Shoo, you big loser.
That's what Arthur used to call you.
You didn't know that, did you? Did you? When did you last have a new car? When did you last get something nice? Go on.
Bugger off! You should have been a detective, George.
Very droll, James.
Tell Martha.
Kevin Fowler names Jimmy - falsely - as third man, to get back at him for messing around with Teresa.
Cliff Luscombe can't believe his luck and guarantees to look after Kevin's kid, as long as he sticks to his story.
And your superior, Hanks, takes a bribe from Luscombe to keep Jimmy in the frame by manufacturing a confession.
The start of a long and corrupt relationship.
Can't we do something? After all this time? Hanks is dead.
It's history.
And our job is to show that our client wasn't properly convicted, not that someone else should have been.
Much as it sticks in my craw.
May it please Your Ladyship, my single and I submit compelling ground for appeal, on behalf of Neil Hastings, concerns the circumstance of his identification.
I call Mr Jack Wilkie.
Mr Wilkie, you were a witness to the events at Turnbrook Services on November 5th 1985.
- Is that correct? - Yeah.
Will you please tell the court what happened? I pulled in to fill up about 8:30.
I saw these blokes in masks doing a runner and I had a go.
(Vehicle approaches) (Brakes squeak) (Blasts horn) Were you later asked to attend an identification parade at West Beach Police Station, supervised by Detective Chief Inspector Hanks? WILKIE: I was.
Hang on, Jack.
Let's see if you recognise anyone, eh? Take your time, Mr Wilkie.
No need.
Quite sure of that, are you? 100%.
Are you saying you gave false evidence in 1986? No.
You had sworn an oath, had you not, on the Bible? You had promised to tell the whole truth.
Well, yeah, but And you're now saying that, quite improperly, you saw Neil Hastings in police custody a few moments before you picked him out in the identification parade? Now, why didn't you mention that 13 years ago, when you swore to tell the whole truth? Do you regard a criminal trial as some son of game? I wasn't asked and if there was a game going on, then I didn't make the sodding rules, OK? Mr Wilkie, however aggrieved you may feel, you must not address His Lordship in that manner.
Do I make myself clear? Well Ms Brewster? I'm obliged to Your Ladyship.
Just one question, Mr Wilkie.
Was the man that you struggled with, in your cab on that evening, the appellant Neil Hastings? Well, that's what's so stupid.
The coppers didn't need to play silly buggers.
I got a good enough look.
I'd have picked him out, anyway.
It was him, all right.
Thank you, Mr Wilkie.
I saw you were in number five.
You? Dreading it tomorrow.
Like a lamb to the slaughter.
I'm sorry, James.
I've got to cancel Saturday evening.
Panic stations in The Hague.
I've got to go on Friday.
Felipe wants to settle me in before he goes back to New York.
Tomorrow evening? I can't.
Thursday? I can't.
Well Speak soon, then.
Yes, we will.
And good luck tomorrow, James.
Jimmy, good luck! - Give her one for me, Jimmy.
- See you, Jimmy.
- Fit, Jimmy? - Yeah.
Couldn't sleep last night.
A nice soft bed tonight, eh? - Think so? - A bit of luck and a following wind.
- Yeah.
- Sue the bastards, Jimmy.
We found Mr Wilkie a credible witness and were persuaded by his testimony that the identification parade was not carried out according to the proper procedures.
Of course, mistakes do happen, even in the best-run police stations.
And our judgment is in no way meant to impugn the reputation of the late Detective Chief Inspector Hanks, a police officer of exemplary two commendations for bravery.
However, had the jury known of that procedural error, albeit inadvertent .
it might have raised considerable doubt in their minds as to the value of the identification evidence .
and the guilt of the appellant.
' Yes! (Cheering) - Neil! Neil! - Neil, how are you feeling? Nevertheless we do not believe that the real or perceived shortcomings of Sir Ronald Tibbit QC were such as to deny justice to James Cracken.
And we wish to express our regret that, presumably acting in the best interests of his client, as he saw them Counsel sought to criticise the dead.
Turning now to the matter of Kevin Fowler's suicide note.
We were not persuaded that it was written by, and I quote, "a man who knew he was going to die and had nothing to lose by telling the truth.
" This was not a dying declaration, as the law understands it.
He may well have formed the intention of taking his own life when he wrote the note, but that is a different matter.
What do you mean? It would have been kosher if he had written it when he was choking on his own bed sheet? Stay silent or you'll be removed.
Nothing can ever put right all those years I've had in prison for something I didn't do.
I've just lost all those years.
I'm going to try and rebuild my life.
I don't know how, but I'll try.
REPORTERS: Neil! Furthermore, even were we to accept that Kevin Fowler had nothing to lose by telling the truth in his note, is it not equally the case that he had nothing to lose by telling a lie and falsely proclaiming his cousin's innocence? You cow! Remove him.
You're all the same! Words, words, words! Half of 'em I can't understand.
- We'll rise for a few moments.
- It's like a game to you lot and we can't play.
This is my life! This is my life! This is my ROTHSTEIN: Jimmy! I am very, very sorry.
Just piss off.
It's not even as if we can appeal again.
Not without fresh grounds.
Tell me something I don't know, Mr Rothstein.
I want to thank my solicitor, Penny Hobbs, my barrister, Mr Aldermarten, and everyone who has believed in me over the years.
- Any comment? - Certainly not.
I'm a barrister.
REPORTER: Are you going on holiday, Neil? Fancy a pint, James? No.
TV: during an armed robbery in 1985.
Speaking after his release Crammer': was in tears.
I would be.
TV: of one day clearing his name.
I just want to say that deep down, I always knew justice would be done.
There 'll be more news in our evening bulletin.
Should be dead simple, justice.
Right and wrong.
Then you get the Hankses and the Tibbits.
But that was bloody years ago.
Why can't we put things right when we've got them wrong? You gave it your best shot.
13 years too late.
It's not your fault.
You know the saying, "Much law, but little justice.
" Well if ever you're in my neck of the woods, stretch of the beach I'd like that, George.
Don't let the bastards grind you down.
Peter, it's James.
And it's a 'yes? - Anything else? - No.
You do know you can count on my unstinting support? Thanks, Jeremy.
I admit my occasional shortcomings, but I'm no slouch in the loyalty department.
It's much appreciated.
I wonder, you know, if you're at a loose end, I might cook you lunch tomorrow.
Well, that's very kind of you, Jeremy.
Les cailles farcies au fumet de truffes.
It's my favourite, but erm Unfortunately, I've got a meeting.
A bit less wrist this time.
Much baker.
Oi! You're trespassing! - Are you sure'? - Yes, I am sure.
I'm Lord Marston's water bailiff and you're 200 yards into his beat.
Terribly sorry.
We'll move along.
You're breaking the law.
I'm obliged to ask for your names and addresses.
bugger! It's no laughing matter.
You should get some legal advice.
We will.
We will! Do you know a good man? I can think of one.
Do you, Peter? Yes, James, I do.
A very good man.
Thank you.
Oh! Oh, dear.
(Foxcott sighs and chuckles)