The former taoiseach was calmed by the notion that his Mahon ordeal is nearly over, writes Miriam Lord
UNLIKE ITS generously appointed version across the road from Leinster House, The Office of Bertie Ahern fitted comfortably into a small box yesterday.
Its sole trader was enduring his penultimate day on the stand in the Mahon tribunal, and the sight of clear blue water in the distance seemed to have a calming effect on the former taoiseach. Gently buffeted by questions from barrister Des O'Neill, Bertie deftly steered his way around them.
Apart from one mildly threatening squall in the afternoon - neutralised by the successful deployment of a bewildering amount of waffle - he emerged relatively unscathed.
It's been a long and tortuous journey to the point reached by O'Neill on Day 895 in Dublin Castle. But finally, he brought the business of Bertie Ahern and the Tribunal of Inquiry into Planning Matters and Payments closer to the basics.
Having painstakingly established during his previous appearances that Ahern received large amounts of money while minister for finance which were not consistent with his earnings, the time had come to examine the former taoiseach's relationship with some of the main cast of characters at the centre of this marathon saga.
Allegations of accepting money from developers have been levelled against Bertie Ahern. It has been shown that he received money from somewhere.
Over the course of years, after all the legal tussles and standoffs, the mountains of letters, the never-ending choruses of protest, the flurries of political indignation and accusations of witch-hunts, significant threads have been unravelled.
But in the narrow context of his terms of reference, can they be tied together by Des O'Neill? These latest hearings would appear to be his attempt to see if that can be achieved.
And in this regard, within the set boundaries, Bertie's bottom line remained unchanged yesterday.
"Never received a penny or a cent - in today's money." Thus far, with perhaps just another day of evidence to go from Ahern, the source of that money remains something of a mystery to everyone, including its financially muddled recipient.
If it stays that way, a battered Ahern should be able to slide away from the embarrassing and unedifying truths thrown up by the Mahon tribunal.
Bertie never gives up explaining how he was busy charting the future for Ireland during those years which are currently under the Mahon microscope.
He says this was why he came in contact with developers such as Owen O'Callaghan and Tom Gilmartin. "My position is that I wish I never heard of either of them, but that is another issue," he sighed.
He says his accuser Gilmartin only contacted him for assistance because "he thought I was a helpful person". It is a constant refrain from Bertie, this idea that he wouldn't be in the situation he is in now if he hadn't been such a nice guy.
All he was ever trying to do was get the economy moving.
Much of the evidence yesterday concerned his dealings with an American investment company called Chilton O'Connor, and a scheme to build a national stadium in Dublin. This appeared to be tied into O'Callaghan's plan to build a shopping centre in Quarryvale. The late Liam Lawlor and Frank Dunlop were also involved.
Ahern told the tribunal he met representatives of the company in late 1994. The tribunal produced ample documentary evidence that they had dealings more than a year earlier.
They met in Los Angeles airport when Bertie was in America on St Patrick's Day duty. He didn't remember the meeting, which came to light from papers in Liam Lawlor's files.
However, memory suitably jogged, he is certain that the meeting was very, very brief. Something to do with the IDA and bringing inward investment to Ireland.
The documents say otherwise. They indicate quite an amount of contact between Ahern and the interested parties on the matter of government support - both Neilstown and the Phoenix Park racecourse were mentioned as venues.
This came as news to Bertie, who declared - typically, nothing to do with the matter at hand - that the only stadium he supported was Croke Park. It's a shining success now, but back then he was "hammered" for his foresight.
Ever the victim, his support for Croker, he sniffed, "caused hell and high water, of course, by all the naysayers who now think it's a brilliant idea". To use the politically popular phrase, in Mahon, we are where we are. And at the moment, this seems to be nowhere.
It will suit Bertie Ahern just fine for it to stay that way.
