Last Monday afternoon Maguire told the Mahon tribunal how it was being used by Ahern's enemies. These numbered Tom Gilmartin, the star witness at the Mahon tribunal, who alleges he was told that Ahern accepted bribes of �30,000 and �50,000 from Owen O'Callaghan. The other enemies went unnamed, but references to them were already aired during the election campaign. They are dark forces, political opponents, elements of the media intent on destroying Bertie Ahern.

For some reason, these people are obsessed with removing Ahern from power.

When he was finished with these enemies, Maguire swung his ire towards the tribunal. It had circulated documents ahead of scheduled public hearings, knowing they would be leaked.

"Notwithstanding the warnings, the tribunal went ahead with the circulation and, as we all know, the inevitable happened, " he said.

As a result the tribunal had created a serious risk of interfering with the democratic process, Maguire suggested.

The charges could hardly have been more serious.

After 20 minutes, the barrister sat down, having failed to address the main reason why he was given a platform to speak. He didn't clear up what Ahern and his colleagues have characterised as "minor details" of a digout by friends to help him through a difficult personal situation.

There was no explanation as to how AIB bank in O'Connell Street had no record of stg�30,000 being lodged on 5 December 1994, as Ahern says it was, following the handover of a briefcase stuffed with cash the previous Saturday. No explanation as to the coincidence that the amount actually deposited on that day equated instead to $45,000. No explanation as to the coincidence that an earlier lodgement, compiled of two of the "dig out" payments, equated to exactly stg�25,000. No explanation as to how Ahern's Manchester pal, Michael Wall, lost �28,000 on the sale of a house to Ahern in 1997, when Ahern says he bought at market value at a time of rocketing prices.

There was precious little on the glaring questions arising out of transactions totalling �176,337 through the account of a serving minister for finance (subsequently leader of the opposition) over two years in the mid '90s.

On Tuesday morning Judge Mahon rejected the attack on his inquiry. Maguire responded again. Here was another opportunity to clear up the "minor details" within the framework of the tribunal. The lawyer chose not to.

In effect, Maguire's representation resonated with the position of Ahern and the wider Fianna Fail organisation. The story as spun in those quarters is not a series of dubious transactions totalling well over 500,000 in today's money.

The story is the dark forces. The story is the leaks.

The Mahon tribunal can be criticised on a number of fronts. It is a lumbering beast, operating at a snail's pace.

The Supreme Court has pointed to procedures that require amendments. Much is made of a minority judgement by Adrian Hardiman, the member anointed by the media as the towering intellect of the court, who was severely critical of the inquiry.

Precious little credence is given to the majority of the court, which ruled that the tribunal should continue its enquries into Quarryvale following a case taken by O'Callaghan.

Since last September, when Bertiegate I blew up, Mahon has been under siege. Ahern and a number of his ministers inferred that the tribunal itself was to blame for the initial leak of his financial details. There is no evidence to support this contention.

In March the Minister for Justice turned the screw, suggesting on no rational basis that the inquiry would cost 1bn.

Meanwhile, O'Callaghan and Liam Lawlor's widow took court actions, delaying this module further. If you didn't know better, you might think that an array of powerful interests want to shut up shop and leave the past buried.

On 6 April, the tribunal's website announced recommencement of public hearings on 30 April. Ahern knew what was coming. He has repeatedly stated that he was going to go to the Aras on 1 May, until he realised belatedly that the president would be abroad. He was going to call an election on the day that the papers would be full of another chapter in his dubious financial details. So he says, anyway.

Last April, Mahon could have suspended hearings until an unspecified date after the pending election and formation of the government.

That might have realistically taken things up to July, towards the August recess. It would have set back the expensive inquiry by up to a further six months and left him open to allegations of bias in favour of Ahern. He could have taken the shortterm heat, secure in the knowledge that Fianna Fail would remember him later on in his career. He chose instead to do his duty to the letter.

As for unlawful leaks, Ahern might take care not to break panes in the glasshouse. Last year, "sources close to Bertie Ahern" were party to a leaked story designed to undermine publication of the Moriarty tribunal report, which included criticism of the Taoiseach's signing of blank cheques for Charlie Haughey.

The man himself has handled the whole affair with his customary adroit brilliance. If we knew last September all we know now, the version of a little help from his friends at a difficult time would have been a harder sell. The dripdrip of information has served him well.

He has given three different versions designed to clear up the "minor details". Two, including one last September, to reassure Michael McDowell. Each version was characterised by his propensity to avoid clear, unequivocal statements. He managed to answer some questions but raise others. Throwing in aspects of his private life and the price of curtains has worked a treat.

Having spurned the opportunity to clear the air through his lawyer in the tribunal . . . as he has repeatedly said he was eager to do . . . he is unlikely to offer the public a fourth version. Why should he? The people have spoken.

The so-called media hounding is another smokescreen. For five days after the story broke on 29 April, the media probed relentlessly. It was the least that would be expected of a free press this side of Putin's Russia. On Friday 4 May, the story was dying when McDowell breathed new life into it and signed his own political death warrant.

The smart money says we may never know the full details of the blooming bank accounts of Bertie Ahern in the mid '90s. Gilmartin's frail health and the prospect of another challenge to the inquiry weigh against a conclusive outcome.

In the unlikely event that the full picture ever emerges, Bertie will have retired to dote on Rocco and Jay, his legacy secured. For now, he marches on to another term, the consummate practitioner of consensus politics, a nice man, a tough guy, a supreme survivor.

If politics is the art of the possible, then he has brought the possibilities to new horizons.

Still, we'd love to know how he acquired the house.