Carter Flashcards
CARTER, the chief clerk, enters. He carries some letters. GRETA turns, sees him and quietly exits. CARTER moves to the desk and puts the letters on it. The telephone rings. CARTER lifts the receiver.
Sir Wilfrid Robart’s chambers… Oh, it’s you, Charles… No, Sir Wilfrid’s in court… Won’t be back just yet… Yes, Shuttleworth case… What — with Myers for the prosecution and Banter trying it? …He’s been giving judgment for close on two hours already… No, not an earthly this evening. We’re full up. Can give you an appointment tomorrow… No, couldn’t possibly. I’m expecting Mayhew, of Mayhew and Brinskill you know, any minute now… Well, so long.
GRETA. Shall I make the tea, Mr. Carter?
(look at watch.)
It’s hardly time yet, Greta.
GRETA. It is by my watch.
Then your watch is wrong.
GRETA. I put it right by the radio.
Then the radio must be wrong.
GRETA. (Shocked.) Oh, not the radio, Mr. Carter. That couldn’t be wrong.
This watch was my father’s. It never gains nor loses. They don’t make watches like that nowadays.
(pick up one of the typewritten papers.)
Really, your typing. Always mistakes. You’ve left out a word.
GRETA. Oh, well — just one word. Anyone might do that.
The word you have left out is the word not. The omission of it entirely alters the sense.
GRETA. Oh, does it? That’s rather funny when you come to think of it.
It is not in the least funny.
(tear the letter in half and hand the pieces to her.)
Do it again. You may remember I told you last week about the celebrated case of Bryant and Horsfall. Case of a will and a trust fund, and entirely owing to a piece of careless copying by a clerk…
GRETA. (Interrupting.) The wrong wife got the money, I remember.
A woman divorced fifteen years previously. Absolutely contrary to the intention of the testator, as his lordship himself admitted. But the wording had to stand. They couldn’t do anything about it.
GRETA. I think that’s rather funny, too.
Counsel’s Chambers are no place to be funny in. The Law, Greta, is a serious business and should be treated accordingly.
GRETA. You wouldn’t think so to hear some of the jokes judges make.
That kind of joke is the prerogative of the Bench.
GRETA. And I’m always reading in the paper about “laughter in court.”
If that’s not caused by one of the judge’s remarks you’ll find he’ll soon threaten to have the court cleared.
GRETA. Mean old thing. Do you know what I read the other day, Mr. Carter? “The Law’s an Ass.” I’m not being rude. It’s a quotation.
A quotation of a facetious nature. Not meant to be taken seriously. You can make the tea —
(Look at his watch. Pause, waiting for the exact second.)
— now, Greta.
GRETA. (Gladly.) Oh, thank you, Mr. Carter.
Mr. Mayhew, of Mayhew and Brinskill, will be here shortly. A Mr. Leonard Vole is also expected. They may come together or separately.
GRETA. (Excitedly.) Leonard Vole? Why, that’s the name — it was in the paper…
(Repressively.) The tea, Greta.
GRETA. Asked to communicate with the police as he might be able to give them useful information.
Tea!
GRETA. It was only last…
(Glower at GRETA.)
The tea, Mr. Carter.
(GRETA exits. Continue arrangement of the papers, muttering to self.)
These girls. Sensational — inaccurate! Don’t know what the Temple’s coming to.
(Examine a typewritten document, make an angry sound, pick up a pen and make a correction.)
(GRETA enters. Announcing:)
GRETA. Mr. Mayhew.
(MR. MAYHEW and LEONARD VOLE enter.)
MAYHEW. Sit down, Mr. Vole. Good afternoon, Carter.
(GRETA exits, staring at LEONARD over her shoulder.)
Good afternoon, Mr. Mayhew. Sir Wilfrid shouldn’t be long, sir. Though you never can tell with Mr. Justice Banter. I’ll go straight over to the Robing Room and tell him that you’re here — with…
MAYHEW. With Mr. Leonard Vole. Thank you, Carter. I’m afraid our appointment was at rather short notice. But in this case time is — er — rather urgent.
(CARTER makes to the door.)
How’s the lumbago?
(Make to the door.)
I only feel it when the wind is in the east. Thank you for remembering, Mr. Mayhew.
(Exit)
[15]
LEONARD: …I like working on cars best and thinking out new gadgets for them. That’s interesting, that is. And you see…
(SIR WILFRID ROBARTS, Q.C. enters, followed by CARTER. SIR WILFRID is wearing his Q.C.s jacket and bands and carries his wig and gown. CARTER carries Sir Wilfrid’s ordinary jacket and bow tie.)
SIR WILFRID. Hullo, John.
MAYHEW. Ah, Wilfrid.
(SIR WILFRID hands the wig and gown to CARTER.)
SIR WILFRID. How do you do, Vole. Won’t you sit down?
(LEONARD sits, CARTER assists SIR WILFRID to change his jacket and remove his bands.)
MAYHEW. That would appear to be mutual. You irritate him because you hardly ever let him finish a sentence.
(Exit, taking the wig, gown, jacket and bands.)
[27]
MAYHEW. The police must have some good reason for not thinking that it was a burglary.
LEONARD. Well, it seems to me…
(Enter)
SIR WILFRID. Yes, Carter?
CARTER. Excuse me, sir, there are two officers here asking to see Mr. Vole.
SIR WILFRID. The police?
Yes, Sir.
(MAYHEW makes to the door.)
SIR WILFRID. All right, John, I’ll go and talk to them.
(SIR WILFRID exits. CARTER follows.)
[30]
SIR WILFRID. That makes three of us. Bring Mrs. Vole in.
(GRETA exits.)
And we’re probably three credulous fools, taken in by a young man with a pleasing personality.
(Enter and stand to one side.)
Mrs. Vole.
(ROMAINE enters. Exit.)
[90]
MAYHEW. (Horrified.) Good Lord! Do you mean…?
(Enter, closing the door behind.)
Excuse me, Sir Wilfrid. A young woman is asking to see you. She says it has to do with the case of Leonard Vole.
SIR WILFRID. (Unimpressed.) Mental?
Oh, no, Sir Wilfrid. I can always recognise that type.
SIR WILFRID. What sort of a young woman?
Rather a common young woman, sir, with a free way of talking.
SIR WILFRID. And what does she want?
(Quoting somewhat distastefully.)
She says she “knows something that might do the prisoner a bit of good.”
SIR WILFRID. Highly unlikely. Bring her in.
(Exit)
SIR WILFRID. What do you think, John?
MAYHEW. Oh well, we can’t afford to leave any stone unturned.
(Enter, ushering in the WOMAN.)
The young lady.
(Exit.)
[95]
MAYHEW. Hullo, where has she gone? She mustn’t leave without giving us further particulars.
(SIR WILFRID exits hurriedly. Calling offstage.)
SIR WILFRID. Carter! Carter!
(Offstage.)
Yes, Sir Wilfrid?
SIR WILFRID. (Offstage.) Carter, where did that young woman go?
(Offstage.) She went straight out, sir.
SiR WILFRID. (Offstage.) Well, you shouldn’t have let her go. Send Greta after her.
(Offstage.)
Very good, Sir Wilfrid.
