‘Doubtless, but I was thinking of occasions when you appeared as a witness using the name Arthur John Beswick?’

‘What’s all that got to do with this case? He told me he done a murder. If you’re supposed to be defending him why don’t you get on and ask me about that?’

‘Oh, rest assured, I will, but for the moment, just tell the ladies and gentlemen on how many occasions you have given evidence for the prosecution?’

‘I can’t remember.’

‘Come now, be fair to yourself, how many times, or do you wish me to assist your recollection?’

Muirhead’s voice had now taken on a tone heavy with sarcasm. Warwick was clearly rattled. His eyes darted around the court as if looking for a means of escape. None was available to him. He would have to stand and fight.

‘Tell me then if you are so smart.’

‘Newcastle Crown Court, December 4th 1987, you gave evidence against a man called Frederick Charles Love, did you not?’

‘So what?’

‘The “so what” is that you claimed in that case that you had had a conversation with Mr Love in a cell and he told you about his part in a bank robbery.’

‘Something like that.’

‘Carlisle Crown Court, April 10th, 1989, you reappear as a witness, this time in a case against one Hugh Thomas. This time you claimed that you met Thomas on a number of occasions in a prison exercise yard. He apparently felt able to confess to you the fact that he was responsible for a slashing which took place in a pub.’

‘What does all this prove?’

‘It proves you are a remarkable man, Mr Warwick. You must have an extremely sympathetic nature. People have an almost uncanny need to unburden their souls to you.’

‘I know what I know.’

‘Yes, but why did you tell the authorities? Why did you grass?’

‘Who are you to call a grass, you wanker?’

‘And more to the point, why are you grassing unless you hope to get something out of it ?’

‘I never asked for nothing. Bloody listen, will you.’

‘London, this time. The Old Bailey, no less.’

The tone now light. Almost casual.

‘September 3rd 1992, and once again you appear as a witness. The accused was Philippe St André, a black man. He too confessed to you. This time about a murder. A man you claimed you only spoke to once, confessed that he had killed a rival drug dealer. All sounds a bit familiar, doesn’t it?’

‘Maybe to your twisted mind, it does.’

‘When your own cases come to court, on each occasion after you had given evidence, the judge was told in mitigation of your sentence that you had co-operated with the authorities in a serious criminal inquiry.’

‘Prove it.’

Muirhead did.