Chapter 21: Silent Servant

The last case before Christmas – and a good thing too, thought Judge Embert Wimple. Despite a profound aversion to seasonal frivolities, his honour had no objection to a short respite from his official duties. Rest was becoming increasingly necessary. It was as well that judges so often did their work in short bursts, with frequent breaks between bouts of intense concentration. Were it otherwise, the octogenarian lawgiver would have resigned long ago. As it was, the working hours he kept enabled him to maintain a fresh attitude to whatever confronted him. Nevertheless, the time was surely approaching when he would have to heed the call to greater matters. The Theory of Everything still beckoned and how could a man deal with that if he were to be continually confronted with the misdeeds of his fellows? Like many an older man, Embert Wimple often thought that he needed to keep going because his juniors were not quite up to the job. In fairness to him, he usually had second thoughts, leading him to conclude that the initial ones were largely based on rationalisation, designed to keep him in the saddle. But a man had to learn when to let go. It was just a matter of timing.

Now, what was the case today? It seemed ordinary enough. Harris versus Pickles. Apparently a straightforward matter of assault. Beginning to relax for Yuletide, the judge noted with some satisfaction that the litigants were represented by two old warhorses, Rodney Melliflewes for the prosecution, Douglas Latimer for the defence. While happy to welcome the younger advocates, Judge Wimple usually felt more at home with the old brigade. He addressed Melliflewes. “Very well, Mr Mallander. You may proceed.”

“May it please Your Honour, this is a simple case of a physical attack, which occurred at about 10.45 p.m. on the nineteenth of August this year. My client, Mr Harris, had been enjoying a drink or two in a public house. He left the establishment alone and decided to round off the evening by going to the nearby fish shop, which he did, with unfortunate results. He had in mind a portion of haddock and chips. On placing his order, he was disappointed to find that only cod was available. He raised the issue with the defendant, who failed to engage him conversation. My client’s patience was severely tested by what he saw as dumb insolence on the defendant’s part. Mr Harris’s language may have become a little intemperate, but at no time did he threaten violence. However, in the case of Mr Pickles, the reverse applied. After refusing to speak for about two minutes, he resorted to hurling at my client a wire-mesh trayful of chips, fresh from the frying pan. Mr Harris sustained burns to his face, plus damage his only suit, which he cannot afford to have cleaned. He seeks redress.”

The judge looked at the litigants, trying to glean what he could from their appearances. The defendant was a small, well-dressed, inoffensive-looking man, whose nervous state was betrayed by continuous fidgeting. The plaintiff was a much larger fellow, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, with no jacket. He gazed vacantly ahead, giving the impression that he was present in body only. His ruddy face and mass of purple cheek and nose curlicues just possibly suggested more than a nodding acquaintanceship with the cup that cheers. Embert Wimple turned his eyes to defending counsel. “What say you to this, Mr Lorimer?”

Latimer was pleased by this worthy effort. “May it please Your Honour, what my learned colleague says is true, as far as it goes, especially with regard to his client’s inflammatory words. However, there were extenuating circumstances, which the prosecution has failed to mention.”

“I am not surprised,” said the judge. “One would hardly expect both sides to reveal all without a little coaxing. However, notwithstanding the great adversarial tradition in this country, we do try to deal in truth – though I sometimes wonder whether we should try the Code Napoleon. That might be more expedient in getting to the point, but would not be half as much fun as our system. Please continue.”

“Thank you. It is correct to say that the duologue, or rather monologue, occurred as the prosecution has stated. Now we come to the underlying situation. My client, Mr Pickles, had two good reasons for his reluctance to become involved in a verbal exchange. First, he is employed at The Peace of Cod on –”

“The what?”

“The Peace of Cod, Your Honour. That is the name of the fish and chip shop.”

“I see. Well, I dare say the title makes its point, though it is perhaps not very imaginative.”

“There is more to it than meets the ear, Your Honour. The second word is spelt as in ‘War and Peace’.”

“Ah, that’s better. The Peace of Cod. Are you now about tell me that the produce involved passeth all understanding?”

“Only insofar as the high quality is widely thought to be beyond the comprehension of the shop’s competitors.”

“Well said. You excel yourself. However, if you continue to take us along these byways, we shall be here all day. Please continue.”

“Thank you. My client was employed on a part-time basis. Owing to his retiring nature, Mr Pickles has a history of difficulty in securing employment. In fact, his only job of any consequence has been the one at the place in question, where he is still occupied. It is therefore understandable that he was anxious to stay in his position. His employer, a Mr Yardley, has a certain reputation with respect to his staff. It might be said that he rules with a rod of iron. He is a former heavyweight boxer and a man of overbearing demeanour. Among other things, he discourages his employees from chattering with customers. Silent service appears to be his motto, and since he is always present during opening hours, his will prevails. Being in fear of losing his source of income, my client obeyed his master to the letter.”

“The dark satanic mills,” said the judge. “I think I understand. However, I wonder how Mr Pickles managed to serve customers without speaking. Could you clarify?

“Yes. Normally, there are two people at the counter, while my client deals only with frying. On the occasion concerned, one of the two usual servers was off sick. Mr Yardley was in the back room chopping chips. The other assistant, noting that there were no customers, had gone to the toilet, leaving Mr Pickles in the unfamiliar position of dealing with frying and possibly serving at the same time.”

“I see,” the judge replied. “Now, what about the second reason?”

“In a way, that is more important. Mr Pickles wishes to join the order of Trappist monks, which involves a vow of silence. It seemed to him, rightly or wrongly, that he should place upon himself voluntarily the state he aspired to maintain later in life. Only thus could he be sure of his presumed vocation. One might say that his normal work in the fish and chip shop was providential, in view of the owner’s attitude.”

Here, Latimer paused for a drink before continuing: “By Mr Yardley’s admission, my client fulfilled his duties admirably, until the incident in question here. This submission is supported by the fact that Mr Yardley continues to employ Mr Pickles, who had done exactly what was expected of him, until provoked beyond reasonable bounds by the plaintiff’s speech and gestures. It is also noteworthy that Mr Yardley lost considerable custom on the evening in question, as a number of people left his premises unserved, being alarmed by the plaintiff’s aggressive behaviour, which was no doubt attributable to alcoholic intoxication – a point on which we can offer independent corroboration, should that be necessary. In fact, when the shop was closed, Mr Yardley found himself with several portions of cod and chips unsold, an almost unprecedented situation. Owing to the lunchtime rush, he cannot be with us now, but has asked that his opinion be considered. I believe Your Honour will find among the relevant papers a letter from him to that effect.”