Prickly, unco-operative and cavilling, George Redmond was in denial mode throughout his evidence yesterday at Dublin Castle. Here was a witness who was more intent on seeing what the tribunal had on him (and then taking issue with this information) than in genuinely assisting Mr Justice Flood by explaining the source of the massive payments he received from builders and politicians.
By 1998, Mr Redmond had assets worth £1,051,360, though he never earned more than £29,000 a year. In the 1960s his savings were running at twice his income for the decade; by the 1970s, they were five times his earnings.
But finding out where this money came from was like drawing teeth. His appearance at the tribunal only came on foot of a summons, after he provided the lawyers with "limited information". This was, said Mr Des O'Neill SC, for the tribunal, in spite of assurances that the information sought would be given. It was only last Friday that the tribunal learned it would not be getting a statement from him.
In the witness-box yesterday, Mr Redmond continued on the same tack. There was to be none of the writing of lists of names which marked Mr Dunlop's evidence; instead, he referred Mr O'Neill to the statements he made to the Criminal Assets Bureau after his arrest last year.
But Mr O'Neill came prepared with his own analysis of the witness's finances. These show that the vast sums accumulated by Mr Redmond were put to little use until recent years. "I never did anything with it", the witness declared, in a rare moment of clarity.
If anything, he spent an inordinate amount of time switching his stash from one bank to another, clearly worried that it might be uncovered. He opened accounts in the Irish version of his name and gave fictional addresses in Belfast, England and Spain, as though Seoirse Mac Reamoinn, c/o Mijas, Espana, would fool anyone. He also hid large sums around the house, £35,000 in the bathroom, £12,000 in the kitchen, and so on.
Approaching retirement age, he made a number of gifts to his children and grandchildren. In 1986, for example, he gave £42,500 as a "marriage gift" to his son, John, who used it to buy a house in Leeson Park, a fashionable area of Dublin 4. (John Redmond is a partner in Fitzsimons Redmond, the legal firm representing the Murphy Group at the tribunal. However, Mr Redmond was not involved in this work.)
By 1998 Mr Redmond's other son, David, had also benefited to the tune of £110,490, according to Mr O'Neill's figures, while John's children received a gift of £55,000 from their grandfather.
Mr Redmond also paid for a holiday house in Cahore, Co Wexford, costing £37,000 ("I didn't even like it", he told the tribunal) in 1993 and for an apartment in Dublin, costing £67,000, in 1996. The massive appreciation in the value of these investments subsequently was not taken into account in calculating Mr Redmond's total assets.
Mr O'Neill's list also contains a reference to £210,000 in bonds bought for both sons.
IT is easier to understand now how Mr Redmond's lawyers were able to claim, during his trial on tax charges earlier this year, that their client was "effectively destitute".
Mr O'Neill also referred to a loan of £110,000 which Mr Redmond advanced to Jim Kennedy and Malachy Skelly. Mr Skelly sought legal representation before the tribunal yesterday, but there was no sign of Mr Kennedy, who runs an amusement arcade in Westmoreland Street, Dublin.
What Mr Redmond termed his "extra-mural activity" began in the mid-1960s, when he first started accepting gifts from Paddy Treacy, a former colleague in Dublin Corporation who had gone to work for the builder Matt Gallagher. "He was doing well, and some of it rubbed off on me", he explained. No figure was given for the extent of Mr Treacy's gratitude.
In 1971 Mr Gallagher's company built Mr Redmond's house in Castleknock, which was recently sold to settle with the Revenue Commissioners for £750,000. Both Mr Treacy and Mr Gallagher are deceased.
The other source he referred to was another builder, Tom Brennan, who has already told the tribunal that he gave Mr Redmond £40,000 to £50,000. But this amount is far less than the £300,000 which entered Mr Redmond's accounts during the 1980s, for which no adequate explanation was provided.
And what was this money given for? "I had a good understanding of the demands of the Planning Act and what should be done to make things right", he explained. He also had "good instincts" about investments and what to avoid. Mr Redmond went on to express regret for what he had done, though his memory was little improved when he returned after lunch.
All afternoon, Mr O'Neill worked his way through Mr Redmond's mushrooming bank and cash balances through the 1980s and 1990s. But he made little headway with a witness who was able to say whether a particular account contained £20 or £200 but seemed to have difficulty recollecting the bigger numbers.
Before Mr Redmond began his evidence, the tribunal revealed its efforts to extract financial records and other documentation regarding the Quarryvale project from the architect Ambrose Kelly.
Mr Kelly's lawyers said that, owing to the "vast amount" of documentation, their client needed 16 weeks to comply with the tribunal's request. Mr Justice Flood said there was no way Mr Kelly would be allowed that amount of time. The matter was adjourned until next week.
At the end of a frustrating day, Mr Redmond turned to the chairman and said: "I'm very sorry for what I've got myself involved in and I'll endeavour to help the tribunal as best I can."
Perhaps he'll try harder today.