Life at the Bar – Judges 1
We like to think that our judges are, well, just and are, at least when on the bench, upright, sober men and women. The majority are but just occasionally they misbehave and the mask of respectability slips. 
One day I was representing a woman, let’s call her Muriel, charged with obtaining social security by fraudulently claiming benefits to which she was not entitled. As usual she was a single mum trying to support her family with too little money. I can’t now remember the exact nature of the lie she had told to increase the welfare payments, but probably it was the small amount she earned from working part time. It wasn’t the first time Muriel had been before the courts for similar offences although it was some years since the last conviction.
She pleaded guilty to three offences of obtaining benefit by fraud and I said what I could on her behalf. My plea in mitigation fell on deaf ears and she was sentenced to six months on each count.
My recollection is that I had other cases at court that day, so I was still in the building in the late afternoon, when I was asked to go to the cells. Once down in the bowels of the courthouse I was told by one of the prison officers that the judge had requested my client be taken back up to the dock. I went to see her in her cell. She was a small woman, dark eyes now red-rimmed, and dark brown hair scraped back into a ponytail. She wanted to know why the judge wanted to see her again. I told her I didn’t know.
After my brief conversation with her I went back into the courtroom. None of the lights in the room was on, only a dim grey light from high windows penetrated the gloom. The panelling around the walls, the judge’s bench and all the seating were dark wood making it seem even darker and more austere. The judge’s bench was raised up and stretched across the width of the room. To one side of the raised area was a red curtain hung on a heavy brass pole. Behind that curtain was the door to the judge’s chambers. I was the only person there; no ushers and no clerk. After a few minutes Muriel was brought into the high dock at the rear, by two prison officers. We all waited in silence.
Suddenly the curtain was swept aside and the Judge staggered onto the bench. He was not robed save for his tabs, but was dressed in a pinstriped suit. In his right hand he had a half full wine glass which he was waving around. He took three steps into the room turned to look at Muriel and said, ‘Those sentences, they are consecutive not concurrent.’ As he was speaking he raised the wine glass and finished with the one word ‘Cheers,’ then fumbled his way back behind the curtain and into his chambers.
The sentences being consecutive meant a term of eighteen months imprisonment not six. Fortunately the prison officers ignored the impromptu and probably illegal sentencing session and recorded the sentence at concurrent.
Budleigh Literary Festival
Last weekend I went to the Budleigh Literary Festival http://www.budfest.org.uk. It is a small festival with no major sponsors and yet they attract some of the biggest names in literature. I went to talks by David Hare, Hilary Mantel, Margaret Drabble, Patrick Gale, Ben Okri and Sarah Waters to name but a few of the participants. Listening to other writers talking about their techniques for writing, where they find their inspiration and their ambitions for their writing provides inspiration for beginners like myself. A walk along the promenade between talks to air the brain and dwell on the talks – what more could any reader/writer want?
Beach Huts at Budleigh
David Hare talk about his work in the theatre reminded me of watching ‘Murmuring Judges’ at theNational and wanting to leap up from my seat, throw my arms in the air and scream ‘Yes’. How he managed to penetrate that most inscrutable of professions I don’t know but he got it right. It’s just a pity the myth has not yet succumbed to the truth. Then Hilary Mantel talking about the gaps in history in which she works. Margaret Drabble, who I have always thought of as a rigorous academic having such warmth and talking about her latest book, ‘Pure Gold Baby’ I have read a number of her books a long time ago, but I was inspired to go and buy some to read again. I must confess from the lovely second-hand book shop in Topsham.
The next day, it was Patrick Gale who had used a family story as the inspiration for his new book, reminding me about the family saga I hope to write some day. Next was Ben Okri who interviewed Erica Wagner, when she was meant to be in conversation with him and finally Sarah Water on her novel ‘The Paying Guest’ which I had just ordered from second hand bookseller. To add to that I met a friend I had lost touch with thirty five years ago, to find she was now living in Budleigh.
I did buy some books at the Festival – it’s what keeps them going, but sometimes I resent having to pay full price when I know I can buy them on Amazon or second hand much cheaper. It’s a difficult issue when we all have limited resources. Anyone have any thoughts on this?
Still on Holiday
I must get back to writing next week, but the last few weeks have been spent frittering the time away and having fun. I’ve been in Morocco for a week. What a delightful country, France with added spice, India but better food. I mention food because I did a course at L’Atelier Madada http://www.lateliermadada.com/fr/ I made a tagine for lunch The trip began at La Roserai Ouirgane in the Atlas Mountains. Then a few days in Marrakech, including the souk and the Majorelle Gardens. www.jardinmajorelle.com Then to Essaouira (has all the vowels) on the Atlantic coast. A picture beats a thousand words so …….
Life at the Bar – Shoplifting 3
Some months later the whole Duff Family were arrested. This time the store detectives together with the police decided to employ different tactics. The sisters and their mother had, once again, gone to Milton Keynes to steal from the Marks and Spencer’s in the shopping centre. Once they arrived on the outskirts of the city they parked their two vehicles, leaving mum to look after the cars and some of the younger children. Once inside the shopping centre they were kept under observation by a team of store detectives, who watched as they stole over twenty or so items from their 
favourite store. This time instead of arresting the sisters as soon as they left the store, they were followed back to their cars, and as they unloaded the stolen items of clothing into the boot of one of them they were all arrested by police officers, including Mrs Duff Senior.
The case was committed for trial at Luton Crown Court on a charge of conspiracy to steal. The indictment also had a number of charges of theft and it was to those they pleaded guilty. They had no alternative, caught red handed with the stolen clothing. They were not so fortunate in the judge either. My recollection is that he called them a scourge on the country, and a gang of modern day poachers. All of them were given custodial sentences including their mother despite her having no convictions for some years. The sentences for the sisters varied depending on their previous convictions, the youngest getting the least, but that suspended sentence given to them by Judge Slack at Aylesbury, was imposed consecutively on all five sisters.
That evening fourteen children were taken into care in the absence of anyone to look after them!
Life at the Bar – Shoplifting 3
Eventually, the Duff sisters were arrested as a result of cameras recording their activities in the shopping mall in Milton Keynes. The video showed the sisters outside Marks and Spencers transferring items of clothing from one to another. An Inspector purported to identify the sisters and accordingly they were 
charged with conspiracy to steal as well as a number of charges of theft against different members of the family. The trial was listed in front of Judge Slack at Aylesbury Crown Court. I was instructed to represent the eldest of the sisters, Martha.
Just before the trial was due to start an usher told me the judge wanted to see me in his chambers. He told me that if they all pleaded guilty he was mindful of their family responsibilities and he would not prevent them from looking after their children. I went back to the robing room and told the co-defending of the Judge’s indication on sentence. It took a bit of effort to persuade them to plead guilty to enough of the charges to satisfy the prosecution. Judge Slack did keep his promise and they were all given suspended sentences and a stiff warning about the consequences if they continued their activities.
Later the Judge told me that he wanted them to plead guilty because he knew he would not be able to avoid laughing out loud when I cross examined the officer, as he knew I would, about his ability to identify which sister was which.
The sisters however did not heed his warning.
Life at the Bar Shoplifting 2
Shop Lifting 2
The modus operandi usually abbreviated to MO of the Duff sisters relied on the similarity in their appearance, despite the age range from seventeen to thirty two. They were of similar height and their hair was cut to the same length, almost grazing their shoulders, and was a dark blonde with silvery highlights. They were similarly proportioned, neither too overweight nor too slim, unless they were pregnant and they wore almost identical clothes. Each of them had at least one small child, and two of the children were mixed race; they would dress the children in very similar clothing. The family acted a lot like a pack of lionesses in the way they cared for their children; it was often difficult to know which one of the sisters was the mother of any particular child.. 
The sisters would go into the stores usually in a group and then split up as they wandered around looking at clothes, making a display of their selection, holding the items up and waving them around to distract the store detectives. Some of the items were then secreted in the back of a pushchair. The one who had taken the clothes would then switch her pushchair with child to another of the sisters, and take that one’s child.
Normally the store detectives would wait until the sister they thought they had seen take something from the shop and hiding it at the back of their child in the pushchair was outside the store. By that time she no longer had the stolen items and could look aghast at being stopped and accused of theft. Sometimes one or other of them would be caught but never all of them at the same time.
That is until CCTV…..
Life at the Bar – Shoplifting 1
When I began my career at the Bar, I was instructed to prosecute a large number of cases of shoplifting for some of the large department stores in Oxford Street, London. The defendants were usually women and the items they stole ranged from expensive scarves to pairs of knickers. Often the women concerned were suffering from depression or had other problems and the thefts were largely a cry for help. They would appear at Marlborough Street Magistrates Court usually pleading guilty so that all I had to do was open the facts to the Magistrate. I would have about six or seven of these cases on each occasions and I always dreaded getting them mixed up and in outlining the facts would say the defendant had stolen six pairs of knickers and two bras instead of two pairs of knickers and six bras.
Later on I found myself representing a group of five young women for whom stealing from stores was a way of life. The five were sisters called Duff and, not surprisingly with that name, the family were Scottish by origin. They were travellers, moving from place to place following the horse fairs around the country. When I came to meet them they were living in the Buckinghamshire town of High Wycombe and had been there for several years after their father had an accident. He had tried to park the car and the caravan he was towing, by reversing into a lay by.
As he did so the back of the caravan hit a concrete lamp standard. Mr Duff got out of the car to check the rear of his caravan at which point the lamp standard broke and part of it fell on to him. He did not survive.
I first became involved with the family when the partner of one of them was facing a charge of assault. The trial took place at Aylesbury Crown Court, a rather shabby building with inadequate facilities. At the end of one of lunchtime adjournments, I needed to visit the toilet before the afternoon session began. The only toilets female members of the Bar could sue were shared with members of the public. When I went into one of the cubicles I found a collection of clothing all with their price tags attached, clearly stolen from the local branch of Marks and Spencer. I spoke to the usher and she called a police officer who took one look at them, his eyes rolled upwards and he said. ‘Oh, the Duff sisters.’
Of course there was no evidence to link the clothes to any of the young women, only their reputation – they were banned from every Marks and Spencer’s store in the UK.
But that was just the beginning of my contact with these charming thieves.
More next week.
Life at the Bar – Desperate Wives
So what happened to Sharon, the young woman I was there to represent?
The women all exchanged glances but before anyone could speak the door of the family court opened, the usher appeared and Sharon’s case was called on. I pushed the stories I had just heard to the back of my mind and walked into court with my client, leaving the three other women behind. Once in the courtroom I called Sharon to give her account of the incidents which gave rise to the application for an injunction preventing her boyfriend from contacting her. She wasn’t the best of witnesses and I could see that the judge was not impressed. Then cross examination began with the boy friend’s barrister asking Sharon if she wanted to stay at the Hostel or go back with Colin to her flat. Sharon hesitated. 
‘Of course I’d like to go back to the flat.’
The Judge interjected, ‘Of course she wants to go back to her own home. That Refuge is disgusting.’
‘Yes of course, your honour. But I am suggesting that the witness wants to go back to the flat with Mr Fenton.’
‘Well say so.’ It was clearly the end of a long day. He turned to Sharon and asked her if she did want to go back to her boyfriend.
Sharon looked round the court room. First at me with a look of desperation on her face and then at Colin’s barrister who was holding a piece of pale lilac notepaper in his hand. I looked away: I knew what was coming. Sharon had seen the letter as well and was struggling to find an answer.
‘Let me help you,’ said Colin’s barrister smiling, and he handed the piece of paper to the usher and asked her to give it to Sharon. Sharon looked at it. The barrister paused.
‘Did you write that?’
‘Yes.’
‘Would you like to read it to the court?’
Sharon read out the letter she had written asking Colin to meet her at the shop near the Refuge to talk about her going back with their child, Angelina.
‘You met Colin by arrangement and went back to the flat with him?’
Sharon’s voice was dull ‘Yes.’
‘And when you were there, you had intercourse with him.’
‘Yes.’
I looked up at the Judge and, as I expected, he told me that I did not have any grounds now for the application. I agreed and he turned to Sharon and told her to stop being so silly and return to her flat. Then, with a swift nod, he rose and swept off the bench before anyone could get to their feet.
Once outside the courtroom, the three women wanted to know what had happened. Sharon was crying so I told them she had agreed to give Colin another chance for the sake of the child. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’ I said. Sharon nodded her head as she wiped away the tears and blew her nose. All three of them looked at her in amazement, turned on their heels and walked away, leaving me with Sharon.
Along the corridor, I could see Colin saying goodbye to his barrister and then he walked towards them. He came up to Sharon and put an arm round her shoulders.
‘Come on, let’s go and get Angie and your things.’ And, without a word to me, the two of them strolled out of the building.
The usher came out of the courtroom and stood watching them for a few moments before turning to I and saying ‘They’re such liars, these people aren’t they.’
I smiled ‘That one was.’ but I wasn’t sure about the confessions I had just heard. I thought then, and still do they were true.
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