Chapter 20 Tenth day, Thursday

The Honorable James Vansittart, Crown Counsel, stands by the bay window of his office, gazing out at the Thames in the garden beyond.He is fifty-two years old and one of the most famous and accomplished men in the Law Society of London.At the age of forty-three, he was already wearing silk robes and became a royal counsel. What is more unusual is that his time in the London Bar was only eighteen years in total.But luck and his own talent had been on his side.A decade earlier, he was an assistant to an elderly Crown Counsel.The old counsel fell ill while working on a case, and the judge, not wanting to drop the case or start over later, granted his request to continue the trial in the absence of his leader.The Crown Counsel took a risk and it paid off - the defendant was acquitted.The Bar Association believes that Vansittart's profound legal knowledge and excellent eloquence changed the opinion of the jury, and the evidence that later proved the defendant's innocence is irrelevant.

The following year, Vansittart's application to join the Crown Counsel went largely unopposed by the Chancellor's Office, then appointed by the Conservative government.His father, the Earl of Essendon, was a Conservative organizing member in the House of Lords and likely played a role in that.Johnny Essendon's second son was generally considered by those in the Bar and St. James's Club to be a suitable talent.This kind of opinion is very clever, but it has not played a practical role in helping his growth. Vansittart turned from the window, went to the desk and pressed the intercom, looking for his Registrar.Mike Creedy managed the affairs of the firm's thirty lawyers with clockwork precision, and he had done so for twenty years.The young Vansittart was discovered by Creedy not long after he joined the association, and the latter also persuaded the chairman of the association to invite the young man to join him.His judgment was not wrong. Fifteen years later, the former assistant became the vice chairman of the association and became a star in the judicial circle.A charming and talented wife who painted portraits, a Berkshire estate, and two Harrow-educated sons complete the picture-perfect picture of the Vansittart family.The door opened and Mike Creedy entered the elegantly decorated room with the walls lined with books.

"Mike, you know I rarely take legal aid cases, right?" "Very few, as far as I know, sir." "How many times? About once a year? To set an example and make a good impression on the public?" "On average, it's almost once a year. Any more will be boring, Mr. Fan." Vansittart laughed.Creedy is in charge of the association's finances. He believes that the association is usually rich, so he doesn't want to see "his" lawyers take legal aid cases with extremely low compensation.A whimsy is a whimsy, and you have to let it go.But not often.

"What's on your mind?" Creedy asked. "I heard there was a case at Highbury Kearney Court. Two young men were charged with robbing and killing a passer-by. They claimed they hadn't done it. Maybe it was true. Their names were Price and Kearney What. Can you find out who their lawyer is and ask him to wait for my call?" An hour later, Lew Slade sat at his desk staring at the telephone, which suddenly seemed to be gold studded with diamonds. "Vansittart?" he said softly. "Is it James Vansittart looking for me?" He then calmed down and resumed talking into the microphone.At the other end of the line was Mike Creedy.

"Yes, that's right. Well, I'm honored and, to be honest, surprised. Okay, I'll wait." Moments later, after the call was transferred, Vansittart, Crown Counsel, came to answer. "Mr. Slade, it's very kind of you to answer my call." Speak easily, confidently, gracefully, and courteously.Probably an Eton or Harrow graduate, Slade thought. It was a brief conversation, but all that was said.Slade was pleased to introduce the Queen v Price and Cornish to Mr Vansittart.Yes, he already had the prosecution case, which had just arrived this morning, and he was willing to go to the bar in the Temple for the first discussion on strategic matters with his client's new lawyer.The meeting was set for two o'clock in the afternoon.

Vansittart was exactly what Slade expected him to be: cosmopolitan, elegant, courteous, serving tea in a bone china tea set, after noticing a smear of yellow between the index and middle fingers of his right hand , he handed over a silver cigarette case containing Balkan Shou Centenary cigarettes.Slade happily ordered one.Vansittart stared at the file, but did not open it. "Tell me, Mr. Slade, what do you think of this case? Just give me a general idea." Slade was honored by these inadvertent gestures.This is an unusual day.He gave a rough account of the events of the past eight days, beginning when he was summoned to the "Dover Street Gaol" at dinner.

"It appears, then, that Mr. Patel is a key figure, the only witness so far," Vansittart said after Slade had finished speaking. "The rest is detective technique or detail. All the evidence Are they all here?" "Yes, it's all here." Slade had already spent an hour looking at the prosecutor's office's prosecution materials in his office, and another hour in a taxi, but the evidence was enough. "But I think the case is quite clear. And apart from their own mutual testimony, the parties have no alibi. According to their testimony, they were either lying on the bed in the seized room, or they were together on the street. hang out."

Vansittart stood up.This made Slade put down his half-drinked tea, stub out his cigarette, and stand up too. "It's great of you to come in person," said Vansittart, as he led Slade to the door. "I've always felt that if we're going to work together, it's best to meet as early as possible. I appreciate your kindness, too." advice." He said he planned to go through the entire file in the evening and called Slade in the office the next day.Slade explained that he would be in court all morning, so the call was scheduled for three o'clock in the afternoon.