‘All paid for by the money he took from Cafferty?’ Rebus touched his toe against a box of empty spirits bottles. ‘He still had a ways to go by the look of things.’

‘That money you mentioned – Dad was skint when he came back. Even borrowed from me, though I could see how much it embarrassed him.’

‘Do you ever see your aunt?’

‘Which one?’

‘The one your dad’s brother Paul married.’

‘Auntie Joanna? Not in years. Uncle Paul and my dad had a falling-out decades back. Dad wouldn’t even let us go to the funeral.’

Rebus’s eyes narrowed. ‘I heard your dad gave her a bunch of cash after Paul passed away.’

Tommy Oram gave a snort. ‘I very much doubt that.’

There was sudden movement at the mouth of the lock-up. Two lads not yet in their teens had stopped their bikes and were straddling them, toes on the ground. The hoods of their jackets were up, and one of them had a hand in his pocket, as if ready to pull something out.

‘It’s okay,’ Tommy assured them. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

Nothing more was said. But as the two kids cycled away, a squat monster of a dog appeared, licking its lips.

‘Hiya, Buster,’ Tommy cooed. The dog gave a short growl and made to rejoin its owners. ‘They keep an eye on the place,’ he explained.

‘For a fee, I dare say.’

‘Not necessary. What’s worth nicking?’

‘Everything has its price.’ Rebus pressed his hands down against the mattress. ‘Why this place rather than a flat or a B&B?’

‘Didn’t cost anything, and the bed was already here. There’s another one folded up over there. It’s in case one of the flats needs them.’

‘You like your job, then?’ Rebus got up and approached the workbench. The shelves above it held rows of five- and ten-litre paint pots.

‘It’s better than nothing.’

‘Your employer’s okay? I suppose he must be, keeping you on after you were suspected of thieving.’

‘That was a renter who was being booted for non-payment. Just stirring things up.’

Rebus made show of remembering something. ‘I know you know the daughter. I hear she helped get you the job. I’m not saying I’d have thought she’s out of your league …’

‘On a dance floor, doesn’t matter which school you went to.’

‘So that’s how you met?’

‘I kept putting in requests – obscure stuff, showing I knew what I was talking about. And eventually she played one.’

‘So she’s a DJ?’

‘It’s allowed these days, you know.’

‘I’ll take your word for it.’ Rebus rested one hand against the worktop.

‘Careful,’ Oram said.

He lifted his hand and saw spots of pale blue paint on the tips of his fingers. Oram handed him a rag from a pile further along the bench.

‘I’ve got some white spirit if you want.’