‘Hearts, of course, same as you,’ he smiled, wanting to get inside now.

‘Doesnae make any sense,’ the boy continued.

‘What doesn’t?’ The Crow asked, wondering if it would spook the woman if he pushed past her son. He couldn’t afford to arouse suspicion at such a crucial stage.

‘You’re from Fraserburgh, you said. Why would you support Hearts? My dad says you should stay true to your hometown.’

The sirens were nearer now, then there were lights, frantic flashed reflections in the windows at the end of the road.

‘I was born in Edinburgh,’ The Crow said quickly. ‘I moved to Fraserburgh when I was a teenager. Your dad sounds like a very sensible man.’

‘Would you come on?’ the woman scolded the boy abruptly. ‘Before the baby wakes up.’

‘Sorry, Mam,’ the boy said, stepping into the building and letting The Crow in, too, as the lights and sirens flashed past the end of the road and away up the hill.

He breathed out, enjoying the small victory, letting it mask his relief.

‘I’ll be off, then,’ he said to the woman who was climbing into the lift. ‘Good to have met you.’

‘Be sure to tell your wife about the toddler group. It’d be nice to have someone to go with!’ she called as the doors finally closed.

The Crow began climbing the stairs to the third floor.

Lance Proudfoot saw a child run around the slight bend in the road first, a boy, older than five but no more than eight. Now that his own son was grown-up, he found it harder to age young children accurately. He could see the heads of the adults accompanying him above the top of a row of parked cars, talking to one another, nodding occasionally, looking relaxed. Other people had come and gone, but none had looked out of place.

A young man had walked past having a loud row on his mobile about money, drawing attention to himself with his bad language. Not a tactic a potential killer would employ. Lance kept checking the vicinity for other people sat in their cars. He was sure the police would be around somewhere.

A car carrying two men had just taken off and he hadn’t got a good view of them. He was mostly just surprised that no one had come to ask what he was up to, given how long he’d been sitting there.

Lastly, an elderly lady had shuffled along and into the building, struggling to get her key into the lock. Lance had fought with himself not to get out and offer to help, but that would have defeated the purpose of staying low, keeping the internal lights off, and avoiding using his mobile and streaming blue light onto his face.