Yesterday I chaired the Saturday court that covers three London Boroughs. As usual I asked security what trade we had and he told me that we had nine downstairs in custody: as he saw my expression lighten, he added "but there could be quite a few extras, sir".
We had a quick pre-brief with our legal adviser, who told me that she had been in the job for just a few years; at which point I promised that we would work as a team. If I didn't know, I would ask her in open court, and if she didn't know I would fall back on the Ways and Means Act, allowing her to look stuff up where necessary, ideally for the time it took the bench to drink cups of coffee.
As usual on a Saturday we were faced with a few Domestic Violence cases, a handful of shoplifters, mostly drug-driven, and a few Fail To Surrender to Warrant cases.
One lucky lad had been picked up on a warrant but the custody sergeant was off his form, and the time limit to hold the man was just expiring. So I gave him the good news, but I did point out his good luck, in that his only penalty for breaking a court order was two uncomfortable days in a cell. Rough justice of course, but I can live with that.
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