I, Horace Rumpole, had been discussing trials a few weeks ago with visiting Saskatchewan colleague, William A. Selnes, K.C. - barristers love to exchange their experiences within the courtroom - when he mentioned he had recently read Mr. Tom Mead’s account of the infamous Ferris wheel murder. I instantly procured a copy of The Murder Wheel and was reading it late into the night when my wife Hilda commanded me to stop reading and come to bed. As I have learned through the decades of our marriage it is best to do as ordered by She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed.
The next day I had a satisfactory day at the Bailey. I successfully defended Hugh Timson on a burglary charge laid by Inspector George Flint. As with most members of Scotland Yard, Flint is a man of rectitude but not an investigator with imagination. He has always been prone to accepting the word of those who would condemn a man with a criminal record.
I have always emphasized it is critical in trials to study witnesses. I noted in the Timson case, during cross-examination, that the main witness, who was not wearing his glasses, was squinting at me. He confidently asserted to me he needed glasses only for reading and was not wearing them when he saw Timson exit the burgled home. I raised my hand near my head while I asked him if I was wearing my glasses. He equally confidently declared they were upon my nose. When I plucked them from the vest pocket of my waistcoat I heard the jury chuckle and his smile evaporated.
After court I retired to Pommeroy’s Wine Bar with my copy of The Murder Wheel. Over 3 or 4 or 5 glasses of plonk and a series of small cheroots I finished the book. I enjoyed the book.
I was eager to read The Murder Wheel as I had been a young barrister in 1938 when the murders upon the Ferris wheel and in the Pomegranate Theatre took place. I recalled the official dispositions of the murders but had always doubted over the decades what the authorities proclaimed.
Edmund Ibbs, the just qualified solicitor at that time, is and was a good friend. He was helping defend Carla Dean against the murder charge that she had shot and killed her husband, Dominic Dean, while in a Ferris wheel compartment. Indeed, I had been mentoring him.
Mr. Mead aptly describes the youthful Edmund:
“Though a lawyer by trade, Edmund Ibbs was also an enthusiastic amateur magician. Or, to use the appropriate term, an illusionist”.
Edmund’s favourite quote, too often repeated to me, was from The Master of Manipulation:
The art of magic, he read, lies in the manipulation of perception. Most people will look exactly where you want them to; all you have to do is tell them. It is simply a matter of guiding their attention in the correct direction, so that they are never looking at the trick as it is being worked.
Edmund and I discussed several times the public conception that all barristers are illusionists spinning word tricks. I vehemently disagreed with that canard. I said lawyers dispel the illusions created by witnesses who are selective with the truth in their evidence.
Edmund challenged me that barristers often focus on small, even minute, discrepancies and contradictions in the evidence of a witness seeking to cast doubt on credibility.
I replied with some force, some might say blustering, that it is rare a barrister can succeed by identifying slight errors in evidence.
Mr. Selnes and I, in our conversation this year at Pommeroy’s, also turned to the subject of illusion. We found common ground that barristers must direct juries to concentrate on important evidence and not get caught up in the illusions of minor issues.
It was our joint conclusion that juries are better at seeing through word illusions than audiences are at piercing stage illusions because of the able assistance of barristers.
Were barristers present in theatres exhorting audiences not to be distracted by the diversions of magicians, illusions would be much more difficult.
Returning to the Ferris wheel murder Edmund consulted me on the defence of Mrs. Dean while we shared glasses of plonk at Pommeroy’s. Even decades ago it was an esteemed establishment.
I implored Edmund to follow my personal principle of never having a client plead guilty. Such an approach demands defence counsel examine, test and reflect on every bit of evidence to avoid distraction.
I believe my advice was the key to young Edmund ultimately solving the Ferris wheel murder though his sound conclusion confounded me.
As to the resolution of murder at the Pomegranate I appreciate the rigorous deductions of Joseph Spector. If he would forsake the Black Pig pub for the charms of Pommeroy’s, I daresay we could spend an enjoyable afternoon discussing illusion.
*****
It's very helpful, not to say illuminating, to hear Mr. Rumpole's views of this case. He does have a point about what, exactly, counts as illusion, and it's been very educational to get his perspective on the trial and on the parties involved. Lovely of She Who Must be Obeyed to acquiesce to this elucidation. I'm certain Mr. Rumpole and Mr. Spector would have much to talk about over a few glasses.
ReplyDelete[Bill, this is top-notch. I richly enjoyed reading it!
Thank you Ms. Kinberg for your perceptive comment. I have thought often about illusion. Hilda appreciates, but is not surprised by your mention of her. I have had many interesting, sometimes argumentative, conversations over glasses of wine. Best wishes. - H.R.
ReplyDelete(Margot: Thanks for your kind words. I appreciate them.)