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Stop the week: Last word

1937-2005, barrister

Patrick Pakenham became something of a legal legend. During one appearance before an unpopular judge a bag of cannabis was produced as evidence. The judge opened the package, chewed the contents and announced: “Yes, yes, of course that is cannabis. Where was the substance found, Mr Pakenham?” The reply came swiftly, if inaccurately: “In the defendant’s anus, my Lord.”

His final appearance was as defence counsel in a complicated fraud case. “Members of the jury,” he began after a well-oiled lunch, “it is my duty to explain the facts in this case . . . unfortunately, for reasons which I won’t go into now, my grasp of the facts is not as it might be and the judge is nearing senility. While, by the look of you, the possibility of your reaching a coherent verdict can be excluded.” He was led from the court.

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— The Daily Telegraph

Aubyn de Margary

1941-2005, foppish stockbroker

Aubyn de Margary was a stockbroker whose colourful private life included a youthful friendship with the Rolling Stones, who once called on him at Lympne Castle, the family home, after playing a gig nearby. It was past midnight, and De Margary was not amused. He told them: “F*** off, it’s far too late.” In revenge the group found a pile of bricks on the estate and built a wall six bricks high across the entrance, much to the irritation of de Margary’s father when he tried to set off for work.

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— The Daily Telegraph