‘Clever bugger you are, James,’ mused Anderson. ‘Make Matthews look like a real shit while you’re the Mr Nice Guy. I just hope you can keep it going. Appearing to be the good guy is not exactly a role you are familiar with, old chap.’

Matthews sat at the table doing his damnedest not to react to what he was hearing.

‘Clever bugger. OK, so you’re not going to take the bait. Let’s just see what you do with Mr Thomson if you’re so fucking smart!’

His Lordship did not have time to be angry at what he was hearing. He was scribbling in his notebook so fast he was in danger of running out of ink.

‘Real evidence is something you can pick up and examine for yourselves. When witnesses are relying upon their impression of a situation and their recollection of it, there is always scope for mistake. That is obvious. But fingerprint evidence, scientific evidence, taperecorded evidence, each have a substantive quality.

‘What do the Crown offer? No fingerprints, clearly. No taperecorded confession, curiously. Forensic evidence, unconvincingly: a spot or two of blood on a jacket belonging to Charles Gallagher. A jacket found weeks after the death of Kevin Boyle. A jacket which could have been cleaned or even destroyed by the man who was so careful that he wore a mask at the time of the shooting and disposed of his gloves, gun and getaway car. This man keeps a leather jacket and does not bother to spend a few pence getting it drycleaned. In addition, you will remember the testimony of Professor Walker, the pathologist, who examined the scene. No evidence whatsoever that any blood sprayed out of the car to contaminate someone nearby.

‘But, of course, it goes further. Much further.

‘Dr Bruce, the forensic scientist, told you that it was seven hundred times more likely that the blood spots came from Kevin Boyle as opposed to someone else. An impressive statistic – or is it?

‘Unfortunately, Dr Bruce could not date the stains. The blood could have landed on the jacket weeks before, or after, the murder. He too examined the scene and could find no traces of blood outside the car, yet three spots are supposed to land on Charlie Gallagher. You know that thousands upon thousands of people in Britain alone have blood which would fit Kevin Boyle’s profile. The much vaunted statistics give you not so much as a hint as to how many of these people live in the Glasgow area and at some time over a period of many months have been in contact with Mr Gallagher’s jacket. This does not take the Crown to the starting line, never mind into the race.