The play is rich with an ever-increasing cast of characters, and some of the best lines in Irish political history. The plot gets confusing sometimes, but at its heart lies a small, very simple prop.
For in the beginning was . . . the bag. Brown paper, or white plastic. Stuffed with cash. Or sometimes a cheque or bank draft.
Ray Burke's packet was the size of a brick. Frank Dunlop thought too much of his leather briefcase to hand it over with his big donation. George Redmond stashed his cash in a cheap hold-all when returning from the Isle of Man.
But every bag must have its bagman (male only, so far). People like Frank Dunlop whose job it was to mind the money for other, richer individuals. Some bagmen, like Dunlop, had the job of dispensing cash, hospitality and favours. Others were more in the business of collecting the dough for favours given.
Next character in the dramatis personae of this tale of money and land is the developer. He starts as a rough-hewn builder straight up from the country, or back from the sites in England. Builds a few houses for someone else, then puts up a few of his own. Next thing, he's buying up land around the periphery of the cities, leasing it back to the farmers, biding his time for the right opportunity.
By the end of our tale, these men are fabulously wealthy. They sit on vast landbanks of priceless building land. They live on stud farms and breed thoroughbred horses and sheep. Helicopters and chauffeur-driven limousines are their preferred modes of transport.
But agricultural land, without zoning, road access or drainage, is worth little. Enter the planner, who makes decisions about how cities should grow, what areas should be built upon and what projects should get planning permission.
The right zoning or planning permission can increase the value of a plot of land by a factor of 10. The finger of suspicion pointed to a number of planners during the 1980s, and at least one senior official was prosecuted - unsuccessfully.
Which leaves us with George Redmond, the most senior figure in the administration of Co Dublin until his retirement in 1989. But even Redmond has refused to accept that the massive payments he received were linked to planning decisions.
However, planners only lay the ground rules, and their powers are not unfettered. This is where the politician enters the fray. Local politicians determine the overall development plan. They can reverse decisions made by the planners. All that's needed is the necessary majority.
Rezoning motions on Dublin County Council and elsewhere generally need cross-party support. The hierarchy of local politicians in Dublin in the 1980s and early 1990s was well established. Most of the "lefty" councillors could be expected to oppose controversial rezoning proposals. Some councillors could be counted on to support rezonings, usually because they were "pro-development".
Others could be persuaded over a well-oiled lunch or pub session. Yet more, as in the case of the councillors paid off by Frank Dunlop, gave their support in return for four-digit "election contributions". Within this constituency was a hard core of politicians, self-appointed whips who marshalled support for contentious votes, ensuring the numbers added up.
In the case of Quarryvale and other controversial projects, this group may have included "noises off", that is, senior politicians who were not on the council but could still influence council matters when asked.
So this is the ensemble of developers, politicians, planners and bagmen which has given rise to the greatest corruption scandal in the history of the State.
Like an iceberg, only a fraction is fully visible at this stage. The rest remains hidden from view.
There is much confusion, and well-founded allegations are becoming mixed up with mindless gossip in the prevailing atmosphere of uncertainty.
However, certain features stick out. Such as how long many of the main characters have known each other. Ray Burke met builders Brennan & McGowan in the late 1960s; both their families hailed from Co Mayo. One year, he was selling houses for them, the next they were fund-raising for his election career. Meanwhile, Tom Brennan was getting to know George Redmond through rounds of golf at the Hermitage.
Redmond, by his own admission, was the matchmaker, forever bringing together like-minded individuals in the worlds of business and politics. Mick Bailey and James Gogarty, for example, met through Redmond over a land deal.
Liam Lawlor was another figure constantly in the thick of things. Lawlor combined life as a Fianna Fail TD with a variety of business interests, including land dealing and consultancy. It was as a consultant that he says he became involved with the Luton-based developer, Tom Gilmartin.
Finally, many of those under suspicion clearly felt paying taxes was only for idiots. George Redmond coughed up £780,000 to the taxman after failing to file returns for a decade. Frank Dunlop took seven years to declare much of his income and is still in talks with the Revenue.
Well away from the muck of the building site or the boozy sessions in Conway's pub, around the corner from the council chambers, Leinster House is agog. Fianna Fail has been waiting for years for these allegations to come down the line. Fine Gael likewise has long heard the stories about some of its own councillors. But no one can predict the fallout, now that the dirt has begun to fly.
So far we've only heard about the minor characters - councillors and builders. The really big allegations concern present and former ministers, and will tumble the Government if proved true. And they will come when least expected. Who would have expected Bertie to be forced on to the defensive this week from an anonymous allegation?
The fact that so many of these allegations have been around for years is irrelevant. Many of the politicians under scrutiny are still around. So are the developers - witness Owen O'Callaghan's series of public statements this week, as his £300 million plan for Mahon in Cork came under fire.
So where to now? Expect more details from Frank Dunlop regarding his payments to councillors when he resumes his evidence next month. Expect revelations about the people who paid money to George Redmond over decades. Expect more insights into the accounting of Tom and Michael Bailey, now that the Supreme Court has cleared the way for the tribunal to delve into this particular mystery. But most of all, expect floods of denials.