Who among them can say with a straight face that honest Bertie has told the truth about his cash-rich lifestyle? He has given various bizarre versions to the Dail, to the Irish people, in sworn testimony. Is there really anybody out there, familiar with the barest detail, who believes he is telling the truth? And if nobody believes him, are we to take it that he is deemed by popular acclaim to be above the law?

There are two processes afoot at the moment in relation to Bertie Ahern and the stacks of cash that found their way into his bank accounts. One involves establishing facts. The other is concerned with perception, as expressed by public opinion.

Let's look first at the boring and complicated business of the facts. In Dublin Castle, the Mahon tribunal is attempting to get to the truth. The process began with an allegation that Ahern took bribes. The first step in this inquiry was to check out whether there may be validity to the claims. This involved examining the Taoiseach's finances.

The examination threw up huge cash lodgements to his accounts, way beyond his salary.

This raised suspicions that could have been quelled by Ahern. It was in his interest to speedily whack the suspicions on the head. He could have provided a detailed account of where he got the money, who gave it to him, and why. He chose not to.

For two-and-a-half years, the tribunal had to keep probing him in correspondence as to the origins of the money. He wasn't forthcoming. In February 2005, he swore an affidavit that was inaccurate, to say the least. Ahern is a leading politician, an intelligent, astute man, with the best legal brains at his disposal, and he is now claiming ignorance about a basic legal obligation.

It was only earlier this year, largely through pressure brought about by its own enquiries, that the tribunal discovered most of Ahern's foreign exchange transactions, principally the stg�68,000 which is currently the subject of public hearings.

In 2006, Ahern retained accountant Des Peelo to compile a report on his finances. It is now clear, and the Taoiseach accepts, that Peelo was not furnished with the full facts.

When cooperation isn't forthcoming, it is standard practice to invite the subject of an inquiry to a private interview. This took place last April. In the course of the interview, more details emerged.

When answers are still not satisfactory, the next step is to call a public hearing into the matter. All of this could have been avoided if Ahern had come clean at the earliest stage.

That he chose not to is baffling, particularly if his narrative is as innocent as he makes it out to be. He could have kept his bulging bank accounts away from the public gaze. He could have summarily dispelled all allegations that he received bribes.

Three days of public evidence have illuminated a few things. Ahern's story has changed as much as that of his nemesis, Tom Gilmartin. His journey from examination of his accounts to public hearing dispels the cock and bull he propagated about being desperate to help the tribunal. The bizarre explanations he gave to the public now appear more bizarre, even nonsensical.

The holes in his story, the ropey explanations, the failure to actively cooperate, are all now established. Any reasonable observer would have to conclude that his story is not believable. The old questions loom larger than HE COULD have sent somebody out for it. So goes the latest tale from Bertie's Wild Years. He could have sent somebody, a civil servant, a political flunky, out to the bank to buy 30 grand of sterling.

Picture the scene. Ahern is sitting in his office in Drumcondra, organising party strategy, devising policies that might be promoted to attract inward investment, hatching plans to get back into government. In walks the flunky. 'Cup of tea, Bertie?' 'Yes please, and while you're at it, would you ever take this big bag of cash and nip down to the AIB to buy sterling with it. And sure, keep a few bob for yourself. Nobody is counting, there's loads more where it came from.'

"I could have done it in instalments, or in different banks, or got somebody else to do it, " the Taoiseach told the Mahon tribunal on Thursday. Instalments? We got a busy flunky on our hands. 'Listen, would you buy five grand of sterling with this today? And you might nip over to Bank of Ireland next Tuesday for another five. We'll have further instalments next week, you'd never know how suspicious it might look otherwise."

Maybe he's telling the truth. Or maybe there was no changing into sterling. Maybe somebody just dropped two more packets of cash into his lap.

So it went in Bertie's Wild Years, circa 199395. He was back in the Castle last week. He will return again tomorrow, and again, into the future. To his supporters, this represents the hounding of an innocent man. His party colleagues make similar noises. Yet who among BERTIEAhern once told RTE that 'How Much Is That Doggy In The Window' was one of his favourite tunes. Given his memory difficulties when it comes to financial matters, Ahern was fortunate in not being asked the price of the canine. Once more last week at the Mahon tribunal, the Fianna Fail leader was unable to sustain the story he had told previously about his personal finances in the early to mid-1990s.

He spent last Thursday giving evidence and explaining his own explanations. A more appropriate anthem for Ahern might now be the Peter Gabriel song, 'I Don't Remember', the chorus of which goes: "I don't remember, I don't recall/I got no memory of anything at all."

Judge Alan Mahon referred to the "significant gaps" in the Taoiseach's story. The version of events so far about the Manchester function, the sterling in the safe and the various bank account transactions combines to leave us wondering if Ahern is trying to hide something.

The inability to provide an explanation for the dealings in large amounts of money, just over a decade ago, is very puzzling, indeed.

The transcript of Ahern's most recent tribunal appearance is available at www. planningtribunal. ie. It should be required reading for anyone who is considering going public to defend Ahern. His supporters argue the tribunal has moved away from the Tom Gilmartin allegations.

They claim their man has done nothing wrong. But they miss the point. As minister for finance, Ahern should not have taken the businessmen's money. There is no need to mention possible favours, bribery or corruption. The very act of taking the money was wrong. And without a credible explanation for the cash and the bank transactions, the tribunal is obliged to keep asking questions until it is satisfied the money is unrelated to the Gilmartin allegations. A cursory reading of last week's evidence again shows Ahern has not helped his own case.

One answer illustrates this point.

When asked about the lack of bank evidence to support his claim that he changed Irish money into stg�30,000 Ahern said: "The only explanation of that was the best of my recollection at that time. As I said to you previously, I had tried to find out precisely what amounts . . . I did recall that I had changed some money into sterling. I didn't have a record of that. If I did have a record of that I would have discovered that.

And I didn't have a breakdown of the figures. I only had the Irish pound amounts of the figures in the bank.

So I don't know precisely when I changed that. So the information I gave was the complete information I had at that stage to the best of my recollection."

Ahern's failure to provide understandable answers is curious. His financial dealings are now open to various interpretations, some of which are not ultimately very flattering and which would, if proven, confirm him truly as the political son of Charlie Haughey. Therein lies Ahern's problem and a nascent difficulty for Fianna Fail.

In the absence of opinion poll data it is hard to say if there has been any change in the public's response to the Ahern payments controversy due to what has been heard over the last 10 days or so.

Twelve months ago the public gave their verdict: Ahern was wrong to have taken the money but need not resign. We now have a lot more detail, although not much more clarity, about Ahern's finances. But Fianna Fail is banking that the public's mood will not harden against their leader. TDs fall back on the mantra that the controversy is not coming up at their constituency clinics. But the public may simply be weary of revelations about another senior politician with unexplainable financial affairs. After over a decade of tribunal investigations the public have come to expect little better from their political leaders. Ahern's evasiveness is probably hurting the perception of politics more than it is damaging his own reputation.

There will be no move against Ahern in the short term. The negative mutterings in the parliamentary party for now remain private.

Bertie Ahern's resignation over the next 18 months would most likely suit Brian Cowen. But Cowen will not move against Ahern . . . and Cowen's backers look like giving Ahern loyalty in return for a succession timed in their man's favour.

An early heave would not suit potential successors such as Micheal Martin or Dermot Ahern.

They need time to build their own internal support bases, and hope that Cowen's stature is diminished by economic turbulence and possibly even a perception that he's too close to the Ahern regime.

So we should not expect to see a band of Fianna Fail TDs on the plinth outside Leinster House in the short term calling on Ahern to bring an end to his term as party leader. But the longer the tribunal appearances go on the more Ahern will become a nuisance if not a liability for Fianna Fail politicians who have to fight the next general election.

With each visit to Dublin Castle Ahern is looking a lesser figure, and speeding up his movement towards the exit door.