The driver of the car, which was probably stolen, looked too young to have a licence, but I figured joyriding was going to be the least serious offence I would be involved in that night. I could tell myself that I was going along to make sure Moses’s violence didn’t get out of hand, but it wasn’t true. If Billy Boyle had harmed Joe I’d pull the trigger myself and to hell with the consequences.

The Boyles lived in Pilton. They were council flats, but the family had taken over the whole landing of one high rise. The exterior of the houses looked like any other and, in spite of the fact that the Boyles’ gross earnings were over a million quid a year, they still claimed incapacity and housing benefit and anything else that was going. The battered Ford Escort screeched to a halt outside the stair where Ma Boyle lived. Lookouts were posted on every landing; they weren’t scanning for us particularly, it was just a general precaution against the drug squad or the vice squad. Not many rival gangs walked into the Boyles’ heartland, and the appearance of Moses Tierney caused quite a stir.

I craned my neck upwards as the doors and windows opened. Unlike in Cumberland Street, these neighbours liked nothing better than to watch a good fight. Moses kicked the car door shut with his boot; he pulled the shotgun out from under his coat and the driver stayed in the car with the engine running. I ran out after Moses and followed him. Gun crime isn’t a huge problem in Edinburgh, and whilst the guards were carrying blades, they bowed to Moses’s superior weaponry and melted back into the shadows. No one doubted that the leader of the Dark Angels was just the kind of crazy bastard to use what he was carrying.

Ma Boyle lived on the third floor. Her kitchen window faced onto the landing and the net curtains that hung on her windows offering a modicum of privacy were spotlessly white. The door to the flat was open; news of our arrival had spread fast. Moses wiped his feet on the doormat and walked in.