Chapter 19: High Jinx

November was doing its best to depress the general population, but was having no such effect upon Judge Embert Wimple, who was counting his blessings. With each passing day, he took increasing comfort from the dark, dank ambience. Nobody was fooling around with garden implements, and house extensions seemed to be at a standstill. These mercies were much appreciated by his honour who, but for the absence of domestic cricket, was in his element.

There was a touch of in-house frost chez Wimple, as the judge and his wife were at odds over his honour’s suddenly resuscitated idea of disposing of the rambling heap in which the two and their housekeeper rattled around like peas in a drum. Esmeralda had thought the notion well and truly dead, following a recent spat on the subject. The judge was still on the defensive in the face of Mrs Wimple’s assertion that in this case, a change would not be as good as a rest. His honour was about to defer yet again.

Embert Wimple had no foreknowledge of what awaited him in court and as ever, that did not cause him any concern. With a vast fund of experience at his disposal, he didn’t expect to be startled by whatever might come up. In fact there was a mild surprise at the outset, for the judge noted that the prosecution was in the hands of William Baskerville, who had discarded his wig over a year ago. Something had persuaded him to emerge from the woodwork. The defence was in the hands of an import, not known to the judge. This fellow, Nigel Palfrey, would have made his honour’s day in court worthwhile, even if there hadn’t been a case to try. The young barrister was six feet seven inches in height and weighed well under twelve stone. Judge Wimple abhorred all allusions by anyone to the physical peculiarities of others, but could not help thinking of the pipe cleaners he had used before renouncing the weed.

The plaintiff, Stuart Macfarlane, was a man of thirty-odd, a little over average height, wearing a blue serge suit that strained at the seams, plus a white shirt and plain red tie, one or both of which seemed to threaten asphyxiation. And were those hiking boots peeping out from under the trousers? The defendant, Jack Wainwright, was a wizened little man, well over twenty years older than his opponent. He wore a black suit and tie and a light-grey shirt. Having taken in all he considered noteworthy, the judge nodded at Baskerville. “Perhaps you would care to make a start, Mr Holmes.” For a man as erudite as Embert Wimple, it was only a short mental step to associate prosecuting counsel’s name with that of the Baker Street sleuth. The judge was already bounding across Dartmoor with a slavering phosphorescent hound at his heels.

Baskerville was an old hand in these matters and plunged unhesitatingly into his presentation. “May it please Your Honour, this case concerns reckless behaviour on the part of the defendant. My client, Mr Macfarlane, is the manager of a building site at the southern edge of our city, where two blocks of flats are being constructed. At the time that concerns us, which was the seventh of July, both parties worked on the site, the defendant operating a large tower crane, over two hundred feet tall. He had reported for duty and ascended to his cabin. He was in contact with Mr Macfarlane by two-way radio. A few minutes after taking up his position, Mr Wainwright became involved in a dispute with Mr Macfarlane. My client tried to settle the matter, but an impasse was reached. In a further effort to resolve the difficulty, Mr Macfarlane called a meeting with other workers. It was while the men were talking that the defendant committed his outrageous act.”

The judge was now fully engaged. “What did he do?”

“He saw that, contrary to normal practice, the bottom end of the lifting cable was close to its lower extremity, only four or five feet from the ground. Usually it is hoisted above that level overnight, to avoid any misbehaviour by intruders entering the site when work is not in progress. Apparently, Mr Wainwright also noted the position of my client and his workmates. With complete disregard for safety, the defendant swung the jib of his crane anti-clockwise, then brought it back clockwise. On such a large crane, the hook at the bottom end of the hoisting cable is a heavy object. Swinging forwards, that is clockwise, it had gained considerable momentum when it struck my client on the head, or rather on his hard hat, sending him bowling base over apex across the site. Using his hands to regain his balance he executed something resembling a double somersault. When he was half-upright in his second roll, he still had some lateral momentum and his head entered the mouth of a small cement mixer which had just been activated.”

“My goodness,” said the judge. “That sounds like a dreadful accident. And yet your client is present here, so it seems that his head was not mixed with the aggregate, or whatever it is called.”

“No and yes, Your Honour. No, because there was not an accident, but rather a premeditated attempt by the defendant to cause injury to my client. Yes, because Mr Macfarlane was extricated from his predicament by others, so that only his hard hat remained in the mixer. Happily, it was later removed.”

“We must be grateful for that,” said the judge. “So the substance of your case is that Mr Wainwright assaulted your client with the hook?”

“Yes.”

“A strange incident. Was that the first time Mr Wainwright had so behaved?”

“No, Your Honour. About a week earlier, he had caused problems when he swung a large concrete slab with excessive force, causing it to demolish a section of wall already built, thus delaying work on the project. Two weeks before that, he was raising a number of metal components, stacked on a pallet hanging from the outer end of the jib. Without any obvious reason, he interrupted the operation and swung the load round in two full circles, generating centrifugal force. He then resumed normal control, but not before a sizeable item had fallen from the pallet, landing within a foot of a car owned by one of his fellow-workers. The gentleman concerned was of the opinion that Mr Wainwright intended to damage the vehicle.”

“Extraordinary,” said the judge. “Had there been any altercations preceding these two earlier incidents?”

“Not with regard to the first one I mentioned, although Mr Macfarlane says that he thought he had detected the smell of whisky on Mr Wainwright’s breath before work started that day. As to the other occasion, the man whose car was almost in the path of the falling item had had sharp words with Mr Wainwright on the evening before the incident. He was convinced that the act was vindictive.”

“I am shocked,” said the judge. “What about the company’s attitude? Was any thought given to terminating Mr Wainwright’s employment?”

“This is a very difficult area. One of the problems is that tower crane operators are a rare breed and thin on the ground.”

“Or in the air,” said the judge.

“Very droll, Your Honour.” Baskerville, who was noted for his complete absence of a sense of humour, maintained a straight face. “The position was debated, but these projects are subject to severe constraints with regard to schedules and finance. At the time in question, no replacement for Mr Wainwright could be found. The position changed shortly afterwards and he was dismissed.”