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Year 2, week 40: cloak and dagger

So I had my meeting with WhistleBlower last night. Arrived at the top of Chancery Lane at 7pm as agreed but I saw no-one. Then, just to add to the whole aura of mystery and intrigue, someone wound down the window of a black cab and shouted at me to get in. No red umbrella and not a man but I figured it must be the person as there would be no-one else looking for me there at that particular time. Once in, I got my first chance to see who exactly this WhistleBlower was. She was probably in her late forties and she looked particularly stressed which I guess added an air of authenticity to the proceedings. “I'm afraid I can't give you my name,” she said after I had sat down next to her and shook hands introducing myself.
"I do understand," I replied. "But why have you contacted me?"
"I simply won't be able to live with myself unless I hand this information to someone involved in the case." She sighed. "You see, my mother has Alzeimers and if this wireless technology is in any way causing even a small amount of the same type of suffering to anyone else and their family, then I think people should know."
"Well, quite," I replied. "That's the whole point of our case. But what information is it that you have exactly?"
"I have this," with which she produced an envelope which I was slightly disappointed to note was white rather than the brown envelope I'd have expected in such a situation.

I took the envelope and then pressed a little further. "But what's in here? Will it make sense to someone who doesn't work for the company?"
"It should do," she replied. "But here. If you really don't get it, you can contact me on this email address," with which she handed me a piece of paper with an anonymous email address printed on it.

After that she stopped the cab and I was put back onto the street, more than a little thrown by the whole weird nature of the meeting. After that I had to go to an Inner Temple dinner followed by a case this morning and so I haven't yet had a chance to go through the papers which she gave me. ClichéClanger has been on the phone to me all day and so we have agreed to meet this evening and go through them over a drink.

Year 2, week 40: MidLife

OldSmoothie had a chat with me in chambers tea today about the Moldy litigation. I was about to tell him about my meeting this evening when UpTights wandered p to the two of us looking rather smug for once. “I must say, I’m rather looking forward to our forthcoming little test case, you know. Can’t say I fancy your chances,” she said.
“Oh, I think BabyB here’s got everything under control.  As for me, whilst you’re sweating away preparing next week, I shall be running with the bulls in Pamplona, UpTights.  Should give me a better run for my money than any argument you can come up with.”

UpTights smiled sweetly and paused and she almost mimicked OldSmoothie’s technique of gathering the attention of the rest of the room, before replying with,
“You’re a bit late for a mid-life crisis aren’t you, OldSmoothie? Or is it a package tour for your geriatric clients?”

You know, I really do wonder whether she’s been taking private tuition from BusyBody on handling the lazy Silver Fox that is OldSmoothie.

Year 2, week 40: WhistleBlower

Today I received a letter relating to the Moldy litigation I’m involved with against TopFirst and UpTights.  It came from someone working within the wireless company we’re suing and stated among other things, that “if you want to know exactly what the company knows about the detrimental health effects of wireless technology, particularly on the elderly then I suggest we meet.”  The suggested meeting place was the top of Chancery Lane and the date was tomorrow evening.  To be honest, without some sort of whistleblower evidence our case is pretty high risk at the moment so it’ll be interesting to see what he has to offer.  I mentioned it to ClichéClanger who sounded pretty excited, I think as much by the conspiratorial manner of the approach as by the potential content.  So tomorrow I’ll be looking out for a man carrying a red umbrella at the top of Chancery Lane.

Year 2, week 39: OldWorrier

Boy oh boy, if you thought Worrier was exhausting, you should have met my opponent today who I'll call OldWorrier.  He was about sixty and said he had been practising for about 15 years.  I found this out when he first called me up last week 'to discuss the case.  Well, given that it was only worth £2,000 and it was your standard car case, I certainly didn't expect to see the papers until late afternoon the day before and that would be if I was lucky.  I told him this and he seemed much put out and then went on to lecture me about the merits of his own case for about an hour, constantly asking me what I thought.  Well, what I thought was that he sounded more like a litigant in person than a barrister and so I looked him up and discovered that he was a head of chambers.  This seemed even more peculiar until I then found out that he was the only member of this chambers which appeared to be run from his bedsit in Brockley.  All a bit odd but nothing like as odd as his performance in court.  You know, it's a peculiar thing about the bar that our performances are not assessed.  Most of the time this makes no odds but on occasions such as today you realise why it can allow the odd rogue to slip through the net.  Today, although neither his client nor he seemed to realise he lost the case due to complete and utter incompetence.  Without boring you with the facts, suffice it to say that if he'd asked my client even the most basic of questions he would have discovered that our case was hopeless.  Instead he simply harangued him with his terrible arguments.  Even the judge was biting his lip in embarrassment.  But you see, unless the client realises his barrister's hopeless, no-one else is going to report him and so OldWorrier will have collected his brief fee and moved on to his next unknowing victim.

Year 2, week 38: More plots

Who should I bump into today but a complete blast from my recent past. I realised it was her before I saw her by the voice trailing away behind her asking question after question of her barrister at court. Yes, it was Worrier and I was against her today. Well, against her barrister anyway, as she’s now crossed over the profession and is working for a firm of solicitors as an in-house barrister.
“Hello, BabyB, how are you? How funny to be against you!”
“Well, quite.  How are you?”
“Oh. Very well.  I think being a solicitor is definitely for me.”

You don’t say, I thought.
“You know, it’s funny I should bump into you today as only yesterday I received a very mysterious email from TopFirst asking about you.”
“Oh, yes, what did he have to say.” I might have looked a little too thrown by that as Worrier suddenly started shifting around with her gaze and mumbled that perhaps she had said too much. Nothing more was said about it and I didn’t want to raise the temperature further by pushing the issue.

Now I just have to find out what he’s up to.

Year 2, week 38: Plotting

So I met up with TopFlirt on Tuesday evening and it didn't go well at all. “What sort of game are you playing with me?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. Like it isn't blindingly obvious.

So she kept it business like all evening only to turn around at the end of the evening and the obligatory peck on the cheek and say, “You know, whatever, it is, I still want to see you again.”  Then she added, “By the way, I’d watch your back at the moment BabyB. TopFirst’s definitely up to something big. I think it’s to do with the case but I also think it’s going to involve you personally. He really doesn’t like you, you know.”

Which makes me wonder how he might use the case to get at me.

Year 2, week 38: trap

Got an email from TopFlirt today, that’s TopFirst’s fiancée, as if I needed to remind myself.  She hasn’t been in touch since our little get together a few weeks ago and for my part I’ve felt completely indecisive as to what to do and in the end inertia won the day. Anyway, she’s thrown the ball back into my court by suggesting we meet this evening. All very mysterious and without any further explanation whatsoever. Needless to say I’m going to go along but I do remain slightly worried that there might be some sort of trap.

Year 2, week 38: moldy moves

We got an agreement of sorts in the Moldy litigation which could lead to some fireworks in the weeks to come. We had a case management conference and both sides agreed for one of the cases to proceed relatively quickly and with only three experts on either side.  Whilst it won’t be a formal test case, it should be a good indicator as to where the case might go. OldSmoothie was obviously delighted with this as it means he will have to do very little work and then if all the others settle he’ll get a fee for each one.  However, I think the only reason the telecoms company were up for this was that they are super-confident of winning and want to re-assure their shareholders with a quick victory.

Anyway, all the opposing experts (neuro, psych and wireless) will all be chatting with their opposite number in the next week and after that it’ll be set down for trial.

Year 2, week 37: OldSoak

KeanieBeanie was at it again today.  Badgering UpTights this time for some work that he could take home.
“Don’t you have a life other than the law?” she asked, which was just a little bit rich coming from her of all people.
“No.”
“Well you need to get one, young man.”
“What would you suggest?”
“Well, er, I don’t know. Er,…” 

That had her stumped.  Then OldSoak, the chambers resident alcoholic stumbled past in the clerks room having heard the rest of the conversation and piped up: “Drinking and fornication, young man. Don’t they teach you anything at Oxford these days?”

KeanieBeanie looked even more embarrassed than ever and scuttled from the room as bright red as his brand new braces.

Year 2, week 37: KeenieBeanie

Really, I don’t quite know what to say. For the last few days we’ve had a snotty-nosed first year law student running around our chambers and the terrible thing is that at only twenty-three years old myself I feel a generation apart. I mean, what on earth is happening to the youth of today? It’s not because he talks a different language or anything stupid like that. No, it’s just his attitude. Or lack of it, more’s the point. Okay, we’ve all been keenie beanies and all that but there seemed to be no spark whatsoever. No humour and definitely no sense of mischief or the absurdity of it all. He’s so boring he’d make TopFirst look like a stand-up comedian. Maybe it’s the credit crunch or the house price slump or the price of oil. But I can’t remember any of us worrying about the state of the economy when we were enjoying ourselves at university. Maybe he’s just a one-off and I guess there were a few of those around even a few years ago. But the way he talked about his other students and the amount of work they were putting in, I have to wonder.

Not that it’s just me who has noticed. I overheard TheBusker talking to him today: “You know, I would suggest you start doing other things at college as well as law.”
“But how will that help my pupillage applications?” he replied.
“Well, you know, that’s still a couple of years ahead and you don’t want to burn out in the meantime.”
“But isn’t it all about grades these days?”
“Well, they do carry a lot of weight but other activities count for something.  We’re not looking for legal machines.”
“Oh.”