‘Indeed. Look at defence production twenty-one. Is that a copy of the News of the World from April 1994 with a headline “Super Cheat” above an article which appears to be an interview with you in the course of which you explain to the reporter how you made a series of false confessions and conned the police and the courts into treating you leniently?’

‘Tough luck, sonny. I conned them – for money. More money than even you will earn for this case, pal.’

‘Meaning?’

‘I told the paper a load of shit, lies, pure lies and would you believe it, they paid me for the story.’

An air of triumph.

‘So, by your own admission, you are someone who will lie and cheat if you think you can gain some advantage?’

Instant deflation.

‘I’ve told you the truth.’

‘But you are quite prepared to lie when it suits you – aren’t you?’

‘No.’

‘And you’ve lied here today, a series of deliberate, vicious, lies, in order to advance your own selfish ends and you have no qualms about convicting an innocent man of murder?’

‘No chance.’

‘Another lie. At the end of your interview with the police you told them to make sure they noted that you had volunteered the information you had just given.’

‘Did I fuck.’

‘Indeed you did, or at least that is what the police officers noted.’

‘They’re liars.’

‘I see. But you did volunteer the information, important information, and you are now claiming that the police have made up a lie to the effect that you wanted them to stress the voluntary nature of your actions. Doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it?’

‘They’re liars.’

‘Someone is certainly lying. So when your case comes to court, you will not wish the judge to be told about your co-operation in this case?’

‘That’s my business.’

‘Why should Mr Gallagher choose you to confess to?’

‘Ask him.’

‘I’m asking you.’

‘Ask him.’

‘When you are exercising, where is the officer escort?’

The sudden change of tack caught Warwick by surprise.

‘What? Eh, sometimes he stands in the doorway. Sometimes he goes for a cup of tea or whatever. I said that. So what?’

‘Comes back to check on you from time to time?’

‘Yes. I suppose.’

‘Did your cell look into the yard?’

‘Yes.’

‘A small window looking into the yard. Not much of a view I suppose?’

‘Very droll. What’s your point?’

‘You were in cell sixteen?’

‘Yes.’

‘Mr Gallagher was in cell eight?’

‘Yes.’

‘Obviously he could see into the yard or he would not have been able to talk to you?’

‘Obviously. You’re getting better at this.’

‘Thank you. I am trying. From the windows of these cells you can’t see the door to the yard, can you?’

‘Clever boy. Done your homework.’

Again the witness was gaining in confidence. Alas, a custard pie was just around the next corner.