The Flood Tribunal may be a marathon, but it's turning into a bit of a Telethon as well.
By 4 p.m. yesterday, evidence of the total amount paid to Politicians in Need was up to £180,000, and details of further contributions were still piling in. Meanwhile, proving that councillors can give as well as take, the phones have been hopping - Frank Dunlop's phone, anyway - with politicians wishing to make pledges (or whatever).
One of the many lists the witness furnished to the tribunal yesterday detailed contacts from politicians, direct and indirect, since his dramatic evidence of three weeks ago. One call was received within minutes of his being driven home sick on that occasion, he said, and while he was being attended by doctor.
Asked if he had interpreted another - indirectly relayed - message as a "threat", Mr Dunlop was charitable, saying he'd been around too long to be threatened. But the trouble with charity, as the lobbyist explained in evidence, is that you can never do enough for the needy.
One politician who was given £2,000 in 1992 was described as "insatiable". Another recipient had been involved in at least three zoning decisions "and any others that he could see his way of muscling into". Asked about the frequency of payments to a person who featured on lists for 1991, 1992 and for subsequent years, Mr Dunlop said: "Let's just say [they were] ongoing."
As the pen pictures built up just short of identification, tribunal experts found themselves faced with tantalising questions. Was Mr Insatiable who we thought he was? Could he and Mr Ongoing be the same person? And just where did Mr Muscle come in?
The packed public gallery wasn't worried. Attracted by the sounds that emanated from Dublin Castle last month, music lovers flocked into the tribunal hall yesterday, and they weren't disappointed. Three weeks on, Frank Dunlop had recovered his voice and was singing like the Vienna Boys Choir.
The witness clearly trembled at times, but his answers were precise. Occasionally he responded wordlessly to questions, and had to be reminded that while a nod was as good as a wink to a blind horse, it wasn't much good for the stenographers. Perhaps the most interesting evidence were the hints about what would yet be revealed. As befits a man who shares his surname with a well-known tyre manufacturer, Mr Dunlop kept referring yesterday to the need for a "road map" - his description of the detailed progress of the Dublin county development plan, from its drafting in 1990 to its adoption in 1993.
He didn't have all these details, he said, but unlike many men he wasn't reluctant to ask for directions. When he did have the "map", he suggested, he would be better able to describe the many points of interest (for the tribunal) along the route. The implication was so clear it could yet inspire a series of tyre commercials: There's a lot more mileage in Dunlop.