‘Consider it done. Leave the money at the usual place. English fifties. No cheques. No credit cards. Cash, that’ll do nicely, thank you.’

‘Very bloody funny.’

‘Line’s breaking up again.’

‘Yes.’

‘Pardon.’

‘Yes...thank you.’

The line went dead.

‘Court!’

The macer preceded Lord Cowden to the bench to begin the trial of Her Majesty’s Advocate against Charles Gallagher.

Having bowed to the judge, the various counsel and solicitors settled into their places. Charlie sat in the dock flanked by two uniformed officers of Strathclyde Police. They held batons between their white gloved hands. Gallagher was wearing a plain blue single-breasted suit, white shirt and sensible tie. In a different context he would have been taken for a man of business. Unfortunately, his business was allegedly murder.

In the well of the court the lawyers sat round a table littered with papers.

In front of the dock were arranged the various productions in the case: photographs, maps, reports and a quantity of bloodstained clothing.

In the benches behind the dock, the unempanelled jurors shifted nervously in their seats, waiting, wondering, trying to catch a glimpse of the accused. The three front rows were occupied by the members of the fourth estate armed with their shorthand notebooks and copies of the indictment. A motley collection of cheap suits and short skirts were all eager for some juicy titbit early in the evidence which would provide them with a decent headline for the early editions or the lunchtime news.

One young reporter who, judging by his accent, had been sent north by an English newspaper, displayed a total lack of familiarity with quaint Scottish customs.

‘Will he be pleading guilty?’

The response from a veteran hack, ‘With James Muirhead in the case, there’s more chance of Ally McCoist becoming Pope’, left him a mite nonplussed and certainly no better informed.

The judge looked down towards defence counsel.

‘Mr Muirhead,’ he intoned.

‘My Lord, I appear with my learned friend Mr Anderson on behalf of the Pannel Charles Gallagher who pleads not guilty to the various charges libelled against him. There are special defences of alibi and reference may be made to these in the course of the evidence.’

The trial had begun.

The Clerk proceeded to ballot the jury by picking pieces of paper out of a plastic bowl and reading out the names each contained. The unfortunate nominees made their way nervously to the jury box and settled uncomfortably in their places.

When fifteen had been chosen, the Clerk invited them to stand while the charges were formally read over to them. Then they were put on oath.

‘Do you swear by Almighty God that you will well and truly try the accused and deliver a true verdict according to the evidence? Please say I do.’

They did.

Lord Cowden then proceeded to growl at the jury in his customarily charmless manner as if he was lecturing his servants on their lack of breeding and manners.