‘I don’t know what they call it. It was a dump. They call it the Wendy House.’

The accent was clearly English, probably London, but not Cockney. The voice displayed distinct traces of nervousness but was gaining in confidence. He stood upright in the witness box but his hands firmly grasped the ledge in front of him. He was fighting to keep control of himself.

‘This is going to be interesting,’ whispered Muirhead to his junior. ‘Looks an aggressive little bastard,’ came the reply.

Mike Matthews cleared his throat.

‘Which cell were you in?’

‘Sixteen.’

‘Did you get the opportunity to meet any other prisoners in the unit?’

‘Some chance. You only get to meet the screws face-to-face, and only when they’re telling you to do something or taking the piss out of you, know what I mean!’

‘Did you get the chance to converse with, to speak with any fellow prisoners?’

Warwick paused and looked down at his hands which had released their grip on the witness box. He rubbed his palms together before wiping them on his trousers. He was now sweating profusely.

‘Yes.’

It was almost a whisper.

‘Pardon?’

‘Look, I don’t need this. I was promised protection and no one has done a damn thing. They got my statement and you Mr smart arsed Prosecutor and your poxy Scottish police don’t give a rat’s arse any more.’

‘Mr Warwick!’

Both Matthews and the Judge barked at the witness, but for the moment there was no stopping him.

‘I’ve been threatened, called a fucking grass, had shite shoved under my cell door. The bastards even spat in my food. That’s what I got for cooperating. Well, I’m not co-operating any more.’

‘Mr Warwick, you will calm down, you will behave decorously and you will answer questions, in a civil manner using temperate language.’

Warwick fired a contemptuous glance towards the bench.

Mike Matthews realised this intervention from his Lordship was likely to make matters worse. He decided to adopt a more conciliatory tone.

‘I appreciate this must be difficult for you. It cannot be easy for you to give evidence against a fellow prisoner, especially when you have been threatened and treated in this appalling manner.’

Muirhead shot out of his seat like a ballistic missile.

‘I object to the learned Advocate Depute giving evidence in this matter. If that is what he wishes to do, he should go into the witness box and take the oath.’

‘Mr Muirhead, the Advocate Depute is trying to do his job and it is difficult enough without your unnecessary interruptions.’

‘His job, as my Lord puts it, is to ask questions without leading the witness or giving the evidence himself. Your Lordship’s job, if I may remind him, is to insure that that is precisely what happens.’

‘I do not need you to tell me...’

‘Perhaps if I rephrase the matter.’

Matthews was determined to retain some control over the situation.