The Second Rumpole Omnibus

The Second Rumpole Omnibus

John Mortimer

Language: English

Pages: 672

ISBN: 0140089586

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Horace Rumpole turns down yet another invitation to exchange the joys and sorrows of life as an Old Bailey hack for the delights of the sunshine state, where Senior Citizens loll on beaches and the sarcastic tones of the Mad Bull are heard no more. He settles instead for the beaded bubbles of Chateau Pommeroy's ordinary claret.

Shopaholic & Sister (Shopaholic, Book 4)

Doctor at Large (Doctor Series, Book 3)

Jokes for Men Only

Doctor On Toast (Doctor Series, Book 7)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

think I feel, Nick? What do you think?’ But he could give no answer to my question. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what you feel, Dad.’ And I don’t know what else we might have said to each other if we hadn’t been interrupted at that precise moment by my instructing solicitor, Mr Winter, and his side-kick, Jo. The unwelcome Winter announced that he had got a message, through the prison officer, that our client Mr Gladstone required our immediate presence down the cells. He had, it seemed, new

towards him. The track was rough, you know. Brambles. It needed clearing. And I must have tripped and… Well, that’s how it happened.’ I looked at her in silence and then slapped my pockets. ‘You don’t have a small cigar about you?’ ‘No.’ She was smiling and seemed relieved. ‘Stupid of me. I must have left them in the car.’ I turned to Jeremy Jowling. ‘Your dog’s probably guarding them with her fangs bared.’ ‘I’ll whizz out and get them. Back in a jiff.’ Jeremy went obediently. I sat looking

go out. He walked towards the woods.’ ‘What happened then?’ ‘Mrs Postern stayed indoors. Then she went out.’ ‘How long did she stay out?’ ‘I don’t rightly know. Ten minutes, quarter of an hour perhaps. Then she came back and got it.’ ‘Got what?’ Mrs Hempe pursed her lips as though about to have to mention some indelicacy, looked at the jury and said, ‘Her shotgun.’ ‘Did you see her get it?’ Pinker asked. ‘No. But I see her go out with it under her arm. She went back towards the woods

the war. She lived alone, took her lunch in all weathers on a bench in St James’s Park, being especially fond of fresh air and bright peasant-style knitted clothes, so that it was never difficult to spot Miss Tuttle in a crowd. One night, a certain Thorogood, Private Secretary to the Minister of State, was working late and he heard the sound of a copying-machine from down the corridor. He went to investigate, but by the time he got there the room was empty, although he found one bright green,

one, isn’t it? You spotted it, of course.’ ‘The point of law, Rumpole?’ ‘I knew you would, you clever old sweetheart, you dear old brain box. I made sure the point would not have eluded you. So we may get a pretty rough ride from the Judge, and you’ll have to bear the brunt, of course, opening a two-week case before an impatient chap like Bates. Well, good luck to you.’ ‘Is it really going to take two weeks?’ Piecan’s voice was tremulous. ‘Up to you, old fellow. Entirely up to you, if you

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