Stolen moments from the Mahon Tribunal By Michael Clifford

THERE were only a few people in the cavernous hall for lunch.

At one of the long tables, reserved for lawyers, former Dublin City and country assistant manager, George Redmond, nibbled on a sandwich. Then, he got down onto the carpeted floor, and, belying his 82 years, began a series of press-ups. It was early spring, 2004, and all was quiet in the surreal world of the planning tribunal.

At the door, a prison officer kept a wary eye on Redmond. The prisoner had been brought to Dublin Castle that morning from Wheatfield, where he was serving a sentence for corruption. His exercise complete, Redmond got up and wandered over to the reporters’ bench. The prison officer moved slightly, as if readying himself for action.