Chapter 4: Face Value

Judge Embert Wimple was in such high spirits that on leaving his house to enter the waiting official car, he performed a little hop, step and jump – no mean feat for a man of eighty-three. The buoyant mood was occasioned by a combination of factors. The sun was shining, the first test match was in progress and a visiting batsman had entertained every cricket aficionado in at least two lands. Like so many true lovers of the game, Embert Wimple derived his pleasure from the aesthetics involved and was largely indifferent to the outcome of a match. Finally, the judge was beginning to bask in the reflected glory of Esmeralda Wimple’s growing success with oils and canvas.

The upcoming case offered a little extra spice in that it was another matter about which Embert Wimple knew absolutely nothing until he took his place in court. Still, that was all to the good, was it not? A new problem and a fresh mind were desirable ingredients in the quest for dispensation of justice. Even after his many years on the bench, the judge still searched ceaselessly for some trace of a path – even the odd footprint – in the seemingly trackless wasteland of human misconduct. Surely there was a pattern? There must be one in the cosmos itself, and what was there in the whole must be detectable in the parts. Or was it? At times, Embert Wimple found himself in the position of the subaltern who receives orders which seem senseless because he cannot see the whole picture.

On this occasion, the prosecution and defence were to be conducted by two barristers from the local pool, both accustomed to appearing before Judge Wimple. Simon Fortescue represented the prosecution, Liam McGillivray the defence. Not that this made any impression on the judge. A panel was a panel and the two counsels were well acquainted with his honour’s peccadilloes. Judge Wimple’s view was akin to that of a well-balanced umpire, who may make a number of wrong calls without greatly affecting the result of an encounter. It was all swings and roundabouts. The litigants were sometimes startled, the advocates never.

Having taken in what he considered necessary, Judge Wimple addressed Fortescue. “Very well, Mr Wentworth,” he said. “Please begin.”

Fortescue, who deferred only marginally to the judge in terms of anno domini, offered the slightest of bows. “May it please Your Honour, the circumstances here are a little unusual, but the underlying principle is not. My client, Mr Philips, seeks satisfaction from the defendant, Mr Stone, in that he – Mr Stone – took from my client a dollar, in Canadian currency, which he refuses to return.”

Fortescue was set to continue, but was interrupted. “A dollar, you say,” said Judge Wimple, producing a mischievous smile. “Dear me, we seem to be in deep waters here. Forgive my intervention at this early stage, but I feel compelled to ask what the defence has to say about this. He turned his attention to McGillivray. Are we really discussing a matter concerning one Canadian dollar, Mr Easterbrook?”

Counsel for the defence was of the piercing eyes and hands-behind-the-back school. “May it please Your Honour, there is no fundamental dispute with respect to what my learned colleague says, but there is more to the matter. The point at issue is that the amount in question – and more – was owed by Mr Philips to my client, Mr Stone. In fact –”

McGillivray was no more successful than his opponent in completing his remarks. The judge held up a hand for silence, then turned again to Fortescue. “I think we are proceeding too quickly,” he said. “Perhaps you would recount the details, Mr Faraday.”

“Certainly, Your Honour. Mr Philips and Mr Stone were once close friends and had a mutual acquaintance in Canada, a gentleman who emigrated to that country some years before the incident at issue here, and who visited both parties some months ago, at which time Mr Philips was the principal host. When the visitor was about to return home – this was on the twenty-sixth of January – he found that he had no Canadian currency. He was anxious to buy some small items on the aircraft and was not sure whether he would be able to pay in sterling. Not surprisingly, Mr Philips also had no Canadian money. The matter was resolved when Mr Stone handed over to the visitor a banknote in his – the guest’s – currency, the value being ten dollars. The item had earlier been given to Mr Stone as a memento of the visit. Mr Philips admits that he agreed to treat the matter as a loan to him and that he promised to reimburse Mr Stone.”

“I see,” said the judge. “So, Mr Stone was out of pocket to the extent of ten dollars, which was to be paid back to him by Mr Philips, after the visit of the Canadian gentleman?”

“That is correct, Your Honour. Following the visitor’s departure, Mr Philips and Mr Stone continued to visit one another, as they had done for some years. The question of the ten dollars was raised several times, albeit on a jocular level, but was not settled. Finally, Mr Stone called on Mr Philips, ostensibly on another matter, but in reality to press his claim. During the general discussion he was shown a Canadian one-dollar coin, which he examined, but failed to return to Mr Philips. Since then, despite numerous allusions to the matter by my client, Mr Stone has refused to hand back the item in question, hence the current position.”

Judge Wimple peered closely at all parties present. “I suspect that there is more to this than meets the eye,” he said. He addressed McGillivray. “What do you say to this, Mr O’Connell?”

McGillivray bowed. “Strictly speaking, Your Honour, what my learned colleague says is correct. However, Mr Stone left the home of Mr Philips, absentmindedly holding the item in his hand. He thought little more of the matter, except to reflect that, even with the coin in his possession he was, and still is, owed the sum of nine Canadian dollars, or the sterling equivalent. Although unwilling to take up the court’s time with a counter-charge, he is still seeking restitution, which he is willing to accept in either currency. Further, he contends that Mr Philips never specifically requested return of the coin concerned.”

The judge turned his attention to the prosecuting counsel. “A nice point, Mr Fortescue,” he said. “Do you agree?”