In west Belfast on Tuesday, army bomb disposal experts examined a "device" at the home of Freddie Scapaticci and called it a hoax.
The prompt Sinn Féin counter-claim that the device was a pipe-bomb and the plea from former Sinn Féin mayor Alex Maskey that Mr Scapaticci should be "left to get on with his life in peace" had a certain charm, as did the idea of soldiers solemnly assessing the risk to the family and property of the man portrayed as "Stakeknife". But the story came and went in seconds on the news.
The same day, Martin McGuinness said that about 10 loyalists in the north Antrim town of Ballymoney kicked and threw bottles and stones at the car he was in. The republican leader appeared for the cameras, pointing out a smashed wing mirror and multiple dents, remarking that it could have been serious if the attackers had managed to break into the car.
His tone was rueful but relaxed - as befits a man who knows how repulsive many would find the spectacle of a former IRA boss making much of low-level aggression against his person. Again, it was a fleeting story, pausing only for Ian Paisley Jnr's flourish that Mr McGuinness was "not welcome in a Protestant town".
The split in Ulster Unionism dominated news programmes. Republicans are no doubt relieved to have the spotlight off their own internal state. They are also as gripped as anyone by David Trimble's struggle, their leaders fascinated by the speed and scale of implosion in his party and the behaviour of those around him.
In interviews off and on the record over past months, prominent figures have repeatedly turned the conversation to Mr Trimble's position, asking journalists how they thought he was doing, whether he would resign ahead of a heave and who might succeed him. One journalist noted that Martin McGuinness mentioned the UUP leader 50 times during their interview.
On Thursday, the day Mr Trimble promised to begin disciplining his rebels, Gerry Adams went to Dublin to talk to the Taoiseach, Mr Ahern, about the political vacuum, the need for momentum, for the Government to push for implementation of the agreement.
No doubt he ran through the role-plays he offers in such formal encounters: offended, distant, presidential, awkwardly joking, chiding, in his old-fashioned schoolmaster style.
The talk in Merrion Square may well have been stern recital on the one hand and soft talk on the other. But the pace of meltdown among Ulster Unionists must have crackled in the background like a half-heard radio.
One of Mr Trimble's better quips in the past, delivered in the driest of tones, has been that he suffers some disadvantage in dealing with dissidents in comparison to republicans. This time he made no jests.
To the leaders of Sinn Féin and indeed, Fianna Fáil, the lax discipline of other organisations must be a source of disbelief.
It's easy to imagine Mr Ahern and Mr Adams yesterday with one ear apiece on reports from the meeting of party officers, noting the tally of those present and absent and the reasons given.
Which of them were following the long UUP tradition of going missing to prevent showdowns, debate or decision? Ulster Unionism in recent days has followed few patterns, conformed to few political precedents, leaving observers floundering. But this struck a deep dark chord. No grey suits left, no-one seen as impartial by both sides who could broker a compromise, insiders said solemnly.
The rebels made their move and a fog of confusion suddenly blotted out the centre ground. Were major Trimble supporters of other days bona fide absentees because of family holidays or unavoidable business commitments - or was this the beginning of the end?
Then again, this might be over-interpretation. In the UUP custom of individualism above all, personal whim and refusal to co-ordinate tactics form a perfectly understandable motivation. So party president, the Rev Martin Smyth, one of the three supposed to be disciplined, who in the normal run of things should have been chairing yesterday's meeting, had "business at Westminster".
The formula was used most recently by Mr Trimble himself, when he left Tony Blair negotiating at Hillsborough and took himself off to be early for Prime Minister's Question-Time next day.
The other two rebels turned up: Arlene Foster left early.
It must have caused some head-shaking in Merrion Square, but little real humour. The Taoiseach and the Sinn Féin leader have been agreed on one thing to date, that there should be a Northern Assembly election as soon as possible. London said Mr Trimble wouldn't weather it, but now that a gale has caught him anyhow second thoughts are starting. A Trimble-less election may have just blown over the horizon.