A little net curtain twitching suggested Jimmy had been on the lookout for him via his front window. The main question now was whether Lucifer was at home too.

He had barely banged the knocker when the door was opened.

‘Come away in, son. I’ve been hoping you got my message. The nice lassie police officer said she would pass it on.’ At this point he spotted the plastic bag McNab was carrying.

McNab handed it to him. ‘As promised, Jimmy, a replacement blanket for the one you lost.’

‘Oh my, that’s kind of you, son. With the summer almost here I won’t be needing it for a couple of months, but I thank you all the same.’ He smiled as they entered the back room. ‘Good for a mug of coffee, son?’

McNab had hoped to be there and away again, but it appeared that Jimmy had other plans.

‘That’d be good, thanks, Jimmy.’

He’d already checked the window ledge for Lucifer and, thankfully, had found it empty. He didn’t regret not having those yellow eyes watching his every move, just waiting to pounce and scratch his own eyes out.

Jimmy brought in the pair of Old Firm mugs and handed McNab the Celtic one with a smile. He didn’t seem in a hurry to tell McNab why he’d been asked to come here, so he decided to show him the photos on the off-chance Jimmy had taken note of either men in the close.

Jimmy seemed mightily glad to be asked to give his opinion, and studied the images diligently.

‘Right,’ he finally said, pointing to Steven Willis. ‘I’ve definitely seen this bloke. Remember I said I thought the place might be an Airbnb? He was up and down the stairs a fair bit, so I guessed he had something to do with the place. The other bloke, though. What height is he?’

‘Same as me, but stockier.’

‘It’s the beard. I don’t recognize the beard,’ Jimmy said, as though he seriously wanted to.

‘No worries,’ McNab said. ‘What about this evidence you wanted to show me?’

Jimmy looked awkward and, for a moment, McNab thought he’d been brought there on false pretences.

‘It’s just that the cat has this habit of bringing back stuff. He’s a hoarder. It’s weird, but there it is. He pisses on the stairs and brings back stuff. Thinks he’s a dog.’

McNab found himself unsurprised by this new aspect of the devil cat.

‘I thought he was outside or up peeing on the stairs, so I went looking for him. Couldn’t find him, so came back and discovered him under my bed with his wee stash. A dead bird, a half-eaten mouse, a sock and this.’ He handed McNab a plastic bag. Inside was a cheap throwaway lighter.