Ray Burke was the very picture of an upright citizen as he awaited sentence in Court Number 8. Thanks to the shortage of seating, in fact, he was upright for almost two hours.
But his neat suit, white shirt, and tie also set him apart in a courtroom where white-collar criminals were a small minority.
The former minister for justice was rubbing shoulders - literally at times - with a wide cross-section of Dublin's underworld.
There were a couple of burglars, a cocaine dealer, a robber who used a "corkscrew and knife" as his attack weapon.
There was also a man who had breached probation conditions for reasons summarised by his lawyer as "lack of intelligence".
The clicking of handcuffs punctuated proceedings as offender after offender was arraigned, sentenced or, in the case of the last-mentioned, returned to jail.
The hardest case was that of a recovering heroin addict with 19 previous convictions who agreed he must have held up a 74-year-old woman with a toy gun - his fingerprints were on the "weapon" - even though he had no memory of it. The man's counsel described his client's failed attempt to do "cold turkey" while in prison the last time.
Burke, waiting his turn with the judge, stood at the back of the courtroom, grim-faced except when he sucked a sweet and his expression eased a little. It was after noon before the backlog cleared and his case could proceed, whereupon the former politician finally secured a seat.
The main sentencing evidence was given by a detective named only as "Bureau Officer No 6 ". Then it was the turn of the respective lawyers: Paddy Gageby, for the prosecution, summarising the career of a politician who had "held some positions of responsibility"; and Paddy Hunt, for Burke, pleading that his client should not be made an example of "because of who he is".
The accused sat with his hands clasped between his knees, but relaxed visibly when the judge reserved judgment until January. It was 1.05 p.m. The former minister had qualified for another free lunch, and for a free Christmas.
When his entourage exited the Four Courts by the back gate, a bell rang out, as if announcing Mr Burke's reprieve. In fact, it was announcing the approach of a Luas. And after Burke skipped across the tram-line pursued by photographers he was, for the moment at least, back on the right side of the tracks.
