Humorous lawyer has humourless client

“The smothering section” includes drowning and the “cake throwing technique.” This is crackerjack! “A couple could pretend to be joking before attacking the target. This would lead to his eyes, nose, and mouth being plugged [with cake] and loses the ability to breathe.” Chocolate profiteroles, please. Twelve methods of assassination were explained; detonating a car from a distance, attacking motorcades, shooting down planes, booby trapping rooms storming houses sniping, and poisoning. Part of his defence was that the publication was a sort of journalistic exercise.

Waterstreet would know of this madness. Many would wonder why a lawyer of such note would represent a creature like Khazaal. I once posed that question to a close friend who was preferred counsel to society’s most evil scumbags. “Firstly,” he said, “everyone is entitled to legal representation, and if they can afford me, I take it.”

Mr. Waterstreet is a prolific writer. His newspaper column lamenting the passing of his friend, “Memories of my mate the rake” portrays him as a debauched but humorous, and sensitive larrikin. The sort of bloke you’d invite to dinner.

I suspect Charles might be akin to my friend in that when younger would go home after defending dregs of humanity, hug his wife, down a stiff Scotch, and play with his children. “It’s like unblocking sewers,” he said - it’s what criminal lawyers must do.”

Thought for the week: Khazaal would have made no money from his book. Who might have paid the Barrister?